“Don’t waste your time with the ice queen,” she said as if he hadn’t spoken, plucking her gum out of her mouth and rolling it between her thumb and index finger. “It’s not likeit”—she smiled viciously at Cya as she pressed the gum into the fabric of their tunic and ground it in—“has a cunt you actually fuck.”
The second after her declaration stretched impossibly, and even though he didn’t fully comprehend the insult, Dex snarled furiously on Cya’s behalf. Cya, however—ah gods, Cya paled, then they flushed. Then their face filled with an unholy rage that burned Dex’s nose with ashy fumes.
With a shriek better befitting a banshee, Cya literally tackled Niki to the ground, and what followed was something Dex had only ever seen in porn—erm, movies—as someone behind him yelled, “Girl fight!”
Chapter eleven
Battles and Boobs
Dex
“Unholyshit,”Dexcriedas he was jostled this way and that as onlookers converged on the scene, most of whom already had their phones out to record.
Niki was screaming bloody murder as she attempted to crawl away, but Cya coiled their tail around her waist and dragged her back. “I’m gonna rip out your wings, you anthropomorphic cavity!” they roared as they wriggled on top of the wailing Spryte and yanked out a fistful of her cotton candy hair.
“Help! Get this tranny psycho off me!” Niki sobbed, beating against Cya’s chest.
As they rolled around in the black grass, no one—not even Noodle Boy—tried to stop it. If anything, he looked too scared to intervene. Too bad. Dex kind of wanted the Sypent to try so he could watch Cya bitchslap the scales right off him.
Since Dex was, for the most part, a pacifist, he huffed in exasperation and shoved the gathering bystanders out of his way until he was standing over the dueling duo. “Okay, Cy, that’s enough.”
Dodging their jabbing elbows, he bent down and grabbed the Sypent around the waist. It took more effort than he expected to peel Cya off the wailing Spryte, and even when he managed it, they struggled against his grip. Hissing barely intelligible insults, they writhed in his grasp in an attempt to get at Niki again.
“Cya, stop! Would you just—deities, how are you this slippery?” he muttered as he clamped his arms around their wriggling body to trap them.
Tears streaming down her face, makeup smeared, Niki held the strands of her hair that Cya had ripped out and caterwauled. Now that Dex had Cya somewhat contained, Kent swooped in and fretted over the Spryte. He cooed and doted, casting scathing glares in Cya’s direction.
“She ruined my blowout,” Niki blubbered like a toddler. “Hermaphrodite bitch!”
“Backstabbing whore,” Cya shot back, lunging at her again.
“I think you need a timeout,” Dex declared.
He threw Cya over his shoulder, pinned their muscular tail to his chest, then strode purposefully away. The crowd parted for him, mostly to keep out of Cya’s reach as they continued to screech and flail. The lower half of their tail wound around Dex’s middle and flexed, rattle smacking his stomach as they beat their fists against his lower back.
“Put me down, you oaf,” they commanded, but he ignored them.
Without much forethought, Dex headed to the dyscus training field. This late, it would be empty of athletes, and he knew where Coach kept the first aid kit in case Niki had managed to hurt Cya. He didn’t think shehad, mostly because Cya had fully dominated that fight, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“Dex, for deities’ sake, put me down,” they ordered again.
“Nope,” he said easily.
“This is entirely undignified!”
“Don’t care.”
Another wordless screech, then they started to smack whatever part of his back his bookbag wasn’t protecting. Either they were purposefully pulling their punches, or they were too weak from their life of luxury to do any damage, because their strikes didn’t hurt much at all. Like he had when his sister had been young, Dex let the tantrum run its course in hopes Cya tired themself out quickly.
Halfway to the field, the Sypent stopped struggling, going limp in his hold. He couldn’t tell if they’d simply run out of anger, or if they were trying to lull him into a false sense of security so he would loosen his grasp enough to allow them escape. Or maybe they were simply using their dead weight to make it harder on him. They were petty enough, after all.
Since he spent whatever free time he had at the school gym, he was strong enough to shoulder their weight pretty easily. He was only panting a little by the time he climbed onto the empty bleachers overlooking the training field and deposited Cya rather clumsily onto a metal bench.
They yelped as they scrambled for purchase, hair falling out of their messy bun in wavy chunks. Their tunic was ripped down the middle nearly to their belly button, and they held it together with one hand as their other tugged on the hem where it had ridden up to their hips.
To preserve their modesty, Dex looked away and shrugged off his backpack, digging around inside for the hoodie he kept at the bottom. He held it out to them, and they startled at the offering. “Wear this. Youcan”—he gestured vaguely at their ripped clothes—“you know, cover up or whatever.”
Cautiously, they took it and placed it in their lap, tracing the letters of his last name printed across the shoulders. The tattered edges of their tunic fluttered in the breeze, parting enough for the moonlight to glint off the thin gold chain strung between their—
