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There was jostling on the other end as the phone was obviously passed to the other person. A female.
“Hi Ava, my name is Fiona, but you can call me Fifi.”
“Fifi? I always thought that was another name for a vagina.”
“Really? I knew a guy called Richard Head once. Poor prick. Anyhoo, we are getting side tracked. I haven’t got long, but I wanted to make sure you know to keep a few good head kicks up your sleeve.”
“Sorry?”
“Head kicks. If there’s one thing Nash doesn’t like, it’s getting kicked in the head as a follow up to a punch. Really pisses her off. Try not to give her stabbing punches. You know, one-offs. Always hit with combos. Plan two moves every time you hit. One at a time, she will pick ’em off and shove things up you that you won’t enjoy. Well, I mean, you might, but there’s a time and a place for such things and only if it’s really late and none of your mates are gonna find out about it, aye?”
Ava couldn’t help but bust out laughing. As she did, there was another jostle on the other end, and apparently Gasnier had wrestled the phone back. “I’m so sorry about that. She’s... well, none of us are sure what she is.” He chuckled.
“I think she’s great. Tell her thank you.”
“I hate encouraging her, but yes, I will. Good luck, Ava. When you make your entrance, don’t head straight to the Cage. Soak it in. Absorb the energy of the crowd. You’ll never get another buzz like your first sell out crowd. I’ll be cheering you on if it means anything. My whole team will.”
“It does... Thank you.”
The phone hung up, leaving Ava feeling much more cheerful. Maybe the advice was meant to accomplish just that. Even though it had been quite a while since Ava had, had any interaction with a vagina, there was no harm in holding on to ‘Fifi’s’ advice.
33
The ‘big fight’atmosphere didn’t hit Ava until about a kilometre away from the stadium, which was where traffic was being diverted away from the highway that led to the stadium. Unless people wanted to go there of course. And it looked like the line leading to the stadium was longer than the one leading away from it.
In the pitch black night, the lit up stadium in the distance was a beacon of energy waiting for them all. Ava, the boys and her father travelled in a stretch hummer, easily recognizable as the odd one out in a sea of station wagons and hatchbacks. The traffic police noted the sticker on the windshield and hurried them forward, which only reinforced the other drivers’ assumptions as to who was in the limo, bringing frantic beeps from many of the cars as they drove past.
They made their way to the special event entrance, usually reserved for rock stars and the like. People were everywhere. Fight fans on both sides of the street, walking towards the gates, paused as the limo drove past to cheer and clap.
The limo turned into the special entrance bay where a small group of people waited outside the doors. It looked like a mix of regular fans, eager for a glimpse of the fighters, and paparazzi or news journalists. Ava waited until cleared by the floor staff to exit the car, but although security had cleared most of the fans and cameras away, some still lingered.
“Hey! Warrior princess!”
It wasn’t the voice Ava recognised first. It was the name. She spun around and was once again face-to-face with an old flame. Though their time together had been brief, she had never forgotten Lauren—her touch or her lips. Looking at her standing there behind the roadblock signs, Ava could honestly say she was vastly more beautiful than Ava remembered.
Ava walked forward a few steps as a guard gripped Lauren by the arm to move her aside, but the buxom beauty didn’t budge, only moved her head to look at him, her expression ice cold.
“It’s OK!” Ava called. “Let her through.”
Lauren flicked her arm so quickly the burly guard was taken aback, stumbling a few steps as both Lauren and the slender man beside her walked forward. Lauren opened her arms just as Ava did, the two embracing like warm friends would, not one time lovers.
“You’re the last person I expected to see. It’s been so long,” Ava said, giving her a squeeze.
“My girl in her first title match? I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“It means a lot,” Ava said, pulling back, looking from Lauren to the slender, bespectacled man.
“Ava, this is Clive. Clive, Ava,” Lauren said, gesturing to each.
“Hi!” Ava smiled, taking his firm handshake.
“Absolute pleasure, Ms Beckinsale. I saw you take that sandhill last week.”
“You don’t have to be so formal, babe.” Lauren smiled at Clive. “We totally fucked a few years ago. I was the best she’s ever had or will have. She’d tell you that herself if she wasn’t so focused.” Her tone suddenly turned from light hearted to deep, serious. “Actually, could you give us a minute?”
Clive gave a small nod of understanding. Clearly he had been expecting this request, he just hadn’t been sure of when it would come. “Of course. Good luck tonight, Ava. Take her... um... out. Take her down.”
Ava thanked him as he moved away, leaving the two blondes alone. “Big fight fan, huh?”
