Alyssa
“Hey, have you got plans tonight?” Asher asks me. After I bailed on him yesterday, I’m surprised he’s still speaking to me. I can’t believe that Brady, actually-famous-fighter Brady Jones is Asher’s brother! “I was thinking we could catch a movie or something.”
“Oh yeah, I’m actually having a movie night with Cam, it’s been ages and we’re overdue.” I can’t possibly tell him the truth. That I have a last minute fight tonight. One of the regulars at the Octagon dropped out last minute and I got put forward in her place. The bonus income, if I win, will be nice. Maybe I could pay for the next date we go on.
Tonight’s events down at the ring consume all my thoughts. My opponent, Nicola Beet, is only seventeen but she’s been in league three longer than me.
There are nine different leagues. At the start of your fighting career you’re placed in a category dependent on skill, not weight or height, but plain, raw talent. I’ve only recently been pushed up into league three and I still feel new to it.
The fact that Cameron is fighting just two matches after me does nothing to help my nerves. I always get worried when Cam fights. He’s in league two, nearly ready for league one, but I’ve never seen his opponent fight before.
Asher seems disappointed that I’m busy, but this isn't exactly something that I can just cancel. I want to say something that’ll lift him back up when an idea comes to me.
“Hey maybe tomorrow, you, me, and Brady could all go out for a nice dinner somewhere?”
“Okay. I’ll talk to Brady.”
I feel antsy waiting around. I’m never normally like this. Cameron and I travel to the Octagon together in his car. I didn’t tell him I blew Asher off for this. I didn’t even tell him I haven’t told Asher about this part of my life. I don’t think he’d approve, somehow.
I sit in the dimly lit changing room, waiting, waiting, waiting. Eventually, at the sound of my song, my cue, I begin to walk out. The crowd is hectic but I finally make my way into the cage. Nicola is already there. Her hair is braided away from her face and she looks fierce. We’re about the same height and build, which I suppose is a good thing. She puts her mouthguard in and pulls on her head guard without giving me a second glance.
I watch Nicola as she turns to the crowd and fist bumps the air. Everyone cheers. She’s a local fighter, it shouldn’t surprise me that her supporters have all come out to cheer her on.
I think it’s more of a psychological move than anything else. She wants me to see her built up - to psych me out and throw me off my game. Clearly, she hasn’t done her homework. The only people I need backing me are Stefan and Cameron.
All these other people? They may as well not be here. They fund my winnings and that’s it.
You don’t need to be the favourite to be the best.
Ding ding ding
I spend most of the first round with my guard up, dodging her blows and giving her the run around. When the bell sounds again to end the round, I notice something.
“Left knee,” I say to Stefan as he hands me my water bottle. I take small sips and deep breaths and continue flickering my eyes around the room. As I imagined, Stefan is scanning over Nicola’s knee. I can tell the second he sees it.
Her left knee angles in slightly. It’s something that most would probably look at and see nothing wrong. After all, it’s quite common, it could easily happen over time with improper stretching to create tighter - and short - muscles. But Nicola is an athlete, with professional coaches, which leads me to think it could be from an injury.
The ref calls us back in, as Stefan locks eyes with me and gives a firm nod of his head, “get her.”
And I plan to do just that…
I freeze. The bell dings calling us into action but I’m frozen. With my guard down, Nicola manages to land her first solid blow to my jaw. It makes me stumble and fall to my knees.
I shake myself back into my zone.
Unfortunately, a fight is no place to get distracted, and Asher is certainly my biggest distraction.
