Ms. Sasha offered me an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Elise.”
“It’s okay,” I nodded, passing Ms. Sasha the plates back.
“Awwww, Elise,” Ms. Sasha pulled me into a hug, and my emotions spilled over.
I sobbed in Ms. Sasha’s embrace until she led me into her house, where she silently comforted me. My nervous system was a wreck, and almost everything was a trigger. It took me about fifteen minutes to get my emotions together, and I appreciated Ms. Sasha for not prying any further. She’d been anonjudgmental constant in my life for so long, but this one thing I couldn’t open up to her about.
CHAPTER NINE
Elise Marshay Hunter
As an educator, the week after Thanksgiving break always seemed to drag by. It was the first week back, and the three-week countdown to Christmas break had already begun. Rashawn’s absence in my life only made the last five days drag harder.
However, I had my emotions together and my head clear while we stood around for our last round in the kickoff tournament at Wiregrass High School. Students from Pasco, Pinellas, and Hillsborough counties were all in attendance. The chaos of the tournament was healing my inner child. Four mats were running at once, coaches shouted commands in all directions, and crowds cheered for their family or favorite wrestlers. The buzzing in the gym almost made me feel electric. My girls were killing it, and I was thankful for that because we were unsurprisingly getting hammered during the dual meets since we often had to forfeit rounds due to the fact that we didn’t have enough girls on the team to compete in every weight class.
For every weight class that we didn’t have a wrestler, we had to forfeit, and the other team was awarded six team points.That rule made it extremely difficult for smaller teams to win at dual meets. Outside of the free points the other team received, my girls had to win every match with a pin in order to offset the imbalance for us to win. Yet my girls walked into every dual meet knowing the possible outcomes with their heads held high. Growth was our mission for the season when we participated in the dual meets.
On the other hand, tournaments gave my girls the opportunity to take home a W that was decided by their strength and skills, without the forfeits stacking against them on the scoreboard. The tournaments were based on individual brackets, where each girl battled within her own weight class, and the winner had to rely solely on their performance on the mat. If our top three girls on the team could place in the top four at tournaments, we would still have a chance to make it to districts.
Taylor, our elusive 110-pounder, had already secured first place, and Melody, our 135-pounder, had fought her way to second. Our other girls also did well on the mat, but we were waiting for Cara, our 190-pounder, to compete. Cara was our last match of the day, and our hope was that she could also secure first place. The girls huddled around Cara, offering her words of encouragement, while I adjusted her headgear strap. Melody had an ice pack on her shoulder, and Taylor had a bruise under her right eye from an elbow she took to the face. War wounds to go along with their W’s.
Cara was the team captain and extremely confident when she stepped on the mat. I loved how much of a natural born leader she was, and knew I didn’t have to do much. Our team fell silent while Cara bowed her head and said a silent prayer. I smiled and placed my hand on Cara’s shoulder while holding her intense gaze.
“Remember, she likes to leave that left arm exposed on tie-ups, exploit it early,” I reminded.
“I got it, Coach,” Cara smiled.
The bracket board above us changed to display Cara’s name. She popped her mouth guard in and bounced in place, careening her neck from side to side.
“Mat 2, 190-pound championship match. Smith from Northside and Richardson from St. Mary’s!” The announcer stated.
“I’mma bring that first place medal home,” Cara grinned. She bounced out onto the mat with her long curly ponytail bouncing the entire way.
The referee stood in the circle, and both girls crouched down slightly on opposing sides. They shook hands when the referee signaled, then he blew the whistle. Cara and her opponent, Stephanie, collided in the center of the mat. Both girls were going at it. Cara shot in low and knocked Stephanie off balance, but she quickly recovered and pivoted. They scrambled across the center circle, and Stephanie managed to slide behind Cara, driving her to the mat and gaining control just as the final seconds ticked. The ref hit the mat twice, and two points were on the board for Stephanie’s clean takedown. Stephanie’s cocky behind roughly pushed Cara’s head away from her as they separated, a smug grin on her face.
Cara grinned back, and I saw the fire dancing in her eyes.
“Cara, ignore her. She wants to ruffle your feathers,” I shouted.
Cara scrambled towards me as I rushed towards the edge of the circle with a bottle and a fresh rag. I wiped the sweat off Cara’s forehead while her head was still held high. She took a small swig of water while her chest heaved.
“Reset. That left arm is what you need to focus on. She’s a little lighter on her feet, but you got her if you lock in. If you choose to shoot in low again, you have to take her down.”
“After she just pushed my head unnecessarily, I got her,” Cara confirmed, stretching her arms and legs.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the fifteen second break, and Cara passed the water back. I rushed off the mat while Cara returned to the center. The referee whistled, beginning the second match. Cara and Stephanie circled the mat, reaching in here and there. Then Cara slid low with full force that time, wrapping her long arms around Stephanie’s thighs, using her shoulders to push her forward until her butt collided with the mat. Cara got the upper hand as Stephanie tried to scramble to prevent the inevitable. With the full force of Cara’s weight repositioned to Stephanie’s upper body, she couldn’t do anything but thrash her legs around while both shoulders were pinned to the mat. She fought with her lower body to break free, but the referee counted down, slapping the mat.
ONE! TWO!
We all erupted in cheers and screams! A successful pin to end the match. Cara beamed proudly as she pulled herself off Stephanie. She bounced to the middle of the mat, her hands clapping loudly. We continued cheering from the sidelines, some of the girls jumping up and down around me. Stephanie peeled herself off the mat, and that cocky grin was nowhere in sight as Cara’s hand was raised while they stood in the middle of the mat. Cara rejoined the team and we bombarded her with a group hug once we were off to the side.
“I told you guys the tournament is where we will shine until we rebuild the team. I’m so proud of every single one of you ladies,” I cheered, clapping loudly in the noisy hallway.
We had a quick powwow before finding a spot to observe the last match of the day before the awards ceremony. I wasovercome with joy for my girls as they went up to grab their awards. Afterwards, in the locker room, I handed out small medals I had customized for each girl and complimented each one on her strengths during the tournament. It was around seven o’clock by the time I was done saying goodbye to my girls and their parents.
For the first time in nearly a month, I was in an amazing mood, and my melancholy fog was lifted. I walked to my Lexus and slipped inside, turning the heat and seat warmers on full blast. After backing into my mother’s BMW, I left my truck at Essex’s shop to be repaired. He almost refused to fix it since I wouldn’t tell him how the damage occurred. After weeks of waiting for parts and repairs, my baby was finally back on the road. Knowing the repairs would be free probably made me more willing to recklessly damage my car that day.
When I realized none of the cars were moving, and other people were starting to get out of their cars, or worse, the parents in trucks and SUVs started driving across the sidewalk to make their exit across the grass. I remained in my seat because I didn’t have anywhere to be, wasn’t planning to help fix the issue, and definitely wasn’t about to drive my baby over a curb.
