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“What’s the worst that can happen?”he groans. “Here universe, take my dare and smite me down, I don’t mind.”
I snicker and scratch my nails along the back of his head. “Let’s go in. Don’t let it all be a waste. I have something to prove, and we’re running out of time.”
He stares into my eyes for a full minute – bringing us down to about seven minutes before I go up – then with a decisive nod, he takes my hand and starts running.
Before I get time to reconsider my big-bad-bravery speech, I find myself sitting on a padded bench in a locker room as Casey pulls my hair into a braid, and Bobby pushes my gloves on.
We’re the only people in here, and though all three of us know I was crying, Case doesn’t bring it up. I’m the world’s ugliest crier; red eyes, puffy cheeks, snotty nose – my opponent will probably think I was too terrified to face her.
A knock at the door has us looking over. “Three minutes for Reilly.”
My heart skips a beat as he leaves just as fast as he appeared. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, but surprisingly,happily, I’m not nearly as nervous as I was earlier. Chris’ visit helped put things into perspective; I’ve got bigger problems in my life, so a possible loss inside a sanctioned competition is way low on the list of shit to worry about.
“Babe? Are you listening to me?”
My eyes snap up. “Huh?”
“Baby. You sure you’re sure?”
“Yeah, I promise. I’m good to go. Actually, I’m excited.” I hop off the bench and punch him in the shoulder. “Let’s go beat some bitch up.”
“Slow down, you still have a minute and a half. I’ll walk you out when it’s time.” He bends low and gets in my face. “I need you to concentrate out there, okay? Izzy’s waiting for us. You’ll have us both in your corner the whole time. Just concentrate and listen to us, we’ll help you. Keep your hands up. The whole fucking time baby, hands up. Oh God.” He grabs his chest. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack. You can still stop this, baby. We can go home. Let’s go home.”
The poor guy looks like he’s having genuine chest pains. I never stopped to think how watching me fight will affect him.
I don’t thinkhethought about it, either.
His concern has me giggling. I’ve never heard him so desperate before. “Bobby, stop!” I put my gloved hands on his chest. “Babe, stop. I’ll be fine. We’ve already been through this, what’s the worst that could happen, right? Come on, I can hear them announcing the last winner. It’s my turn now, walk me out.” I drop a fast kiss on his lips as he stares.
Eventually, he hesitantly nods his head and takes my gloved hand in his. I peek up at him as the three of us move through the halls, and when his eyes meet mine, I give him the first two lines to his own fight song. I rap like a fool, but when the wordsluckandskillcross my lips, his steps falter and his hand squeezes.
His worried face is replaced with a dirty smirk, and his squeezing hand moves to my hips. He pulls me into his arms at the end of the hall and bends me backwards until our mouths clash. Spectators hoot, and send my blood pressure through the roof. “You think you’resoooofunny, don’t you, baby?” He pulls back and sets me on my feet. “I love you so much.” He smacks another kiss on my lips at the same time Casey clears her throat.
Right. Yes. Fight.
Let’s go.
We emerge into a big room similar to the one Jack fought in. This is a different gym. Different organizers, but it’s all the same at the end of the day. New fighters crapping their pants and hoping for the best.
I look around for my friends, only to find them in the front row, right by my corner. They’re all here, faces beaming, excitement rolling off them in waves. Jack’s is the only face that drops when he sees mine.
Oh, that’s right. Puffy eyes. Snotty nose.
I nod my head to let him know I’m okay, then I turn when Casey taps me on the shoulder.
She steps in and hugs me tight. “Good luck. You got this.” She looks around me. “That bitch is scrawny as a bean pole and ugly to match. And her tits are all weirdly squished into that sports bra. She’s got one D instead of two B’s. It’s weird. She deserves everything she gets, okay? Don’t go soft.”
I laugh and turn to look over my shoulder. She’s neither scrawny, nor is she ugly – though, the boob thing is right. She needs to go bra shopping and get fitted properly.
I turn back with a smile and squeeze my best friend. “Best pep talk, ever. I love you, Tink.”
Her head whips back angrily, and I realize my mistake too late. My gloved hands fly to cover my mouth to stop the laughter, but it’s too late. She looks me up and down the way only she can do. “Your tits look weird, too. Excuse me while I go sit on the other side and cheer her on. Whore.”
I watch her sway her hips back to her seat, I watch Jon watch her, but my laughter is interrupted when Bobby taps my shoulder. He tips his chin toward the ring, so we start moving, and as we approach, Izzy steps to me and pushes my mouthguard in. “Took your time, Jesus. You competing with Jimmy for most dramatic entrance?” Switching gears when my referee steps to the middle of the ring, she pats my arms down. “Okay. Hands up. You let them fall, you die.” When my eyes flare wide, she smirks. “Okay, dead is dramatic, but roll with it. Don’t let them fall. Not once. If I see you drop them, we’re spending the entire next week with them duct taped to your face. I’m not playing, so don’t fuck around.”
She’s completely serious.
“Do what Jack did: legs, body, legs, body, legs, body, head. Especially use your legs; your reach will keep her out of range. You’re better than your opponent. No one’s worked as hard as you have. This is yours, go get her.”
