An untitled story
The phone rang again, and I fumbled through the navy blue blanket to find it. I hated being woken up for any reason-this included. So as I pulled the small black cordless phone from the wild mess of blanket and laundry, I turned the ringer off, and laid back down, trying to get back to sleep. Too late though-and in a matter of minutes, I was up again, groggily checking the phone's caller ID.
Telemarketing... simply put, the legal form of harassment. I squeezed out a light yawn, as I pushed myself up and out of bed. Outside of the blanket, my pajamas were drenched in sweat, and the chill ran from my skin to my spine as I went to my old dresser, staggering through disorganized laundry. I picked out a sky blue tank top and faded black jeans. My friends always criticized me for my fashion-because I'm 'not with the times', personally, I can't be fucked with the times though. I just like what I like...
My hair was wild as shit, and I was still pale as ever. My eyes were like emeralds under my ruby hair-which offset my paper skin in a manner I found most unpleasant...but my skin never tanned. It was always my biggest flaw, in my head. Some of my friends would argue it's that I'm so boyish...but I don't especially care if that WAS unappealing. I always figured guys liked it when they had a girl they could talk with anyway.
As I stepped out of the shower, the phone rang again, and I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and hurried back to my room-anticipating that it was finally the call I was waiting for. It was.
"Samantha, get your ass over here! It's 3, you slept an extra two hours?"
"Work was rough as fuck-I only got like 4 hours with those extra two."
Matt laughed, and I continued.
"And you were supposed to wake me up, dick!"
"Yeah yeah-just hurry up, David and Blaine gotta go to work in a bit-I don't want you to miss them."
"Alright-I'm on the way."
I hung up the phone, and went back to the bathroom, to get my clothes. As I removed the towel, I looked briefly in the mirror again. I was blushing-the only time there was color in my cheeks. My body was slender for the most-as pale as my face, and the only outstanding part of me to other girls would be my abs-though I've seen better, and the slight definition in my arms. Still, I know that I'm attractive enough to a lot of guys...I'm just not what I want of myself.
No guy I've ever been with even thought I was the cuddly type for an instant, either they looked at me as another guy, or a piece of ass, and I hated it. For that if nothing else, I wish maybe my breasts were just a little bigger-my figure was just a little more curvy...maybe that I could be a little softer...but I'm happy with the way I live, so I'm not willing to change that. I just hate the ultimatum of boy or whore.
Not that I AM a whore-actually I'm still a virgin, which-at 19 is a feat to most females.
Matt was my best friend since 7th grade, and I'm 19 now. He's never seen me as a man, or some other random slutty bitch. He's the only guy to have been there when I cried, the only one to believe I really would. He never tried to get in my pants either-I don't think he ever wanted to, and he's the only guy to have ever stood up for me. When I was sad he would hold me when we were younger-we'd cuddle-he was the only person who would, and he'd listen to all of my sad stories no matter how shallow they were, and never repeated a word of them.
That, if nothing else, is why I feel the way I do about him. I've always felt we were meant to be more than friends, I just didn't know if he felt the same-and I couldn't risk losing him to the whims of a shallow desire.
I pushed through the double doors, out of breath from having run all the way, to avoid missing the show. A tall, thin guy in a striped red and black shirt under a dark blue vest with short black hair and unusual piercing red eyes become my priority in the poor lighting through the crowd. It wasn't long before I found him-running up behind him and jumping on his back-forcing an opening in the crowd as I pulled back, locking him in a tight choke hold-his attempt to gasp for air turned into a suffocated cough instantly.
"The fuck's up with calling me late, dude?"
"Goddammit Sam!"
"Punk ass can't breathe?" Blaine laughed.
Blaine was the biggest fucker I've ever met. He's scary as shit, but I'm sure he's never meant to be that way. His voice always booms and he towers over everyone with muscles in his God damn hair even-well, if he'd had any. He had a crush on me when we first met, even though that wouldn't work out, he's one of the nicest people I've ever met, when he's not being a dick. In my sophomore year of high school, I broke his nose for grabbing my ass-now he's 3 sizes bigger...I'm about the same size.
"Sam-"
"What, bitch?"
"Aw, getting man-handled by a girl...again." Blaine continued to laugh.
I was caught off guard and my voice jumped a bit when Matt elbowed me in the stomach, it didn't even hurt though. I pulled him back and tightened my hold on him.
"That all you got, bitch?"
"Sam, come ON!"
He elbowed me harder-and I started to feel it, so I let him go.
"A whole 3 years, and you haven't changed at ALL..." Matt stated flatly, as he turned and looked at me.
His eyes were fixed and focused on me longer than any time they'd been before then, before he returned to his usually spaced, thoughtful look. I took it in, hoping for significant signs, but as always I could never read any signs of affection in him.
"Kinda hurt there, asshole." I raised my top slightly, and rubbed my stomach a bit.
My abs were firm, but not impenetrable. Matt cast a side long glance at my body, then placed his fist on my stomach, and pushed it in gently.
"Still working your way to manhood hm?"
"Still working your way to womanhood?"
He kept his hand there for a second, so I pulled the top up a little more, from over his hand, showing a little more of my stomach. At that, he quickly pulled his hand back.
"My bad, I wasn't paying attention..." He blushed, and I dropped my shirt back.
"Whatever, you know you liked it."
He laughed again, then Blaine interrupted.
"Hey, I'll say it-that's pretty damn hot. Just don't start looking like a man."
I then remembered where we were, as I heard a song end. The band on stage was in black leather-usual rocker attire...they were a pretty generic sounding local band, the kind of shit that never interests me, personally. As they begin to introduce their next song, I addressed Matt again.
"Hey, where's David?"
"You just missed him, but we'll see him tomorrow too, if you're on time, that is."
"It's your birthday, I wouldn't miss it for the world...
He started to say something, but the crowd went crazy for the band-our conversation was now totally on hold. I wished like hell they'd have just played another acoustic. But with the ear splitting silence, I wrapped myself around Matt's arm, and I felt him jump slightly, then I stood close to his ear.
"I missed you so much..."
I layed my head on his chest, and he wrapped his other arm around me. I then smiled as I looked at Blaine as he mouthed 'Matt and Sam sittin' in a tree', gesturing to the words as if that'd make him any more clear. I was just happy to finally have this moment back. The same place as always, the same people... something warm and familiar. After these last three years I didn't know what I was going to do without...this.
Matt and Blaine shared an apartment, at the time, a neat, well-kept place, which was pretty surprising considering Blaine lived there. I guess Matt did all the cleaning. When we finally got back to the apartment, Blaine had already left for work, and so it was just me and Matt. The whole of the car ride home we swapped stories, talked like close friends-it was as if all the past three years never happened. Even talking about it with him, it never got awkward or depressing-the words kept flowing the entire time...
"Hey, you still have that scar from when Pat cracked you with the bat?"
"Why?" He was slightly surprised, but tilted his head for me.
The scar was hidden beneath his hair-but It was still there, a long wild gash with tell-tale signs of poor stitching.
"He was such a dick..."
"He was your dad, though. He's gone now, fuck it..."
"Yeah..."
Matt punched me softly in the stomach.
"You still box?"
"Nah-I got enough equipment at my place now-fuck the gym."
"Well then, you've grown the fuck up since last I saw you on your own, didn't you? I hit my damn funny bone elbowing you...shit's not funny."
"Nor is that shit-corny bastard."
"Ha. I've been hitting the gym with Blaine since you left."
"Oh REALLY now? So you DID decide you were a man?"
"Hey dammit. I'll make my decision when you do."
I laughed a bit.
"So Blaine make you wrestle him yet?"
"Do I LOOK stupid?"
"I hate trick questions, man."
"But I can bench at least 150 now, feeling proud."
Already half dressed, I took in his body-he WAS gaining form. He was so damn skinny last time I'd seen him I could probably kill him blowing too hard in his direction-now though his pecs stood out-his arms looked thicker...he was coming along great.
"Matt's a hottie now? I thought you LIKED being a geek..."
"Now I'm a super geek!"
He jumped up, and did a dramatic flex pose-and as quick as he did, I fired a hard right dead in the center of his stomach, and he still collapsed under the blow, doubling over-then trying to play it off.
"More like super bitch!"
"Hey, you'd drop if someone hit you like that. Admit it."
"Wanna bet?"
"Fuck yeah."
"Then try me." I stood up, and he took a step back, raising a hand to keep me back.
"I c-can't just.."
We heard the door to the front unlock, and I saw Matt smirk a bit-and my heart sank.
We raced out of his bedroom to greet Blaine as he walked in. Blaine in a purple t-shirt and black jeans was a comic image in itself I noted, as I beat Matt to him by a split second. As Matt began to speak, I cut him off.
"WELCOME TO TACO BELL, THE TERMINATOR WILL TAKE YOUR ORDAH!" I spewed, and Blaine's face was as humored as my joke was humorous.
"Cute."
"Aww...hard day at work, big guy?"
I pushed to keep the conversation going-to keep drowning out Matt.
"I'm just tired-closing is bullshit."
"I get you, man. I won't hold you-night!"
"HOLD THE FUCK UP!" Matt yelled out over me-thwarting me.
"LALALALA" I tried to talk over him, childishly-but he continued.
"Me and SaMAAANtha over there have a little wager. She says she's got these abs of steel and nobody-including you can drop her...him...it."
"I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING LIKE-"
"Seriously?"
Blaine rammed his gigantic fist towards my midsection quick, and I put my hands up and stopped the impact as best I could. I heard Matt laugh a bit, so I punched him in the shoulder, he rubbed his arm.
"See? She thinks she's unstoppable!"
"You said you were tired, dude!"
"I can do this real fast, before I go to bed."
Matt locked me into a full nelson from behind.
"Get her, big guy!"
"This is BULLSHIT!"
I backed Matt into a wall-then from there he refused to budge-he held me as tight as he could-and he HAD gotten a lot stronger over the years-I couldn't get loose, and from the wall I couldn't move him, my feet were hardly even touching the carpet. Blaine was there quick-lining up how he wanted to hit me-I felt a shock through my gut just from the thought, panicked, and lifted my legs to cover my stomach. I twisted and struggled against them as Blaine struggled to get my legs down and Matt struggled to keep me up. I considered screaming rape-but I half worried someone in the apartment complex might take me seriously.
"Goddammit Matt-I'm a girl!" I began grasping for straws.
"When'd THAT start?"
"I didn't hit you as hard as this fucker! Blaine, I thought you didn't hit girls!?"
Blaine pressed his fist against my stomach, then pushed it in deep, starting a deep, slow ache and keeping me from breathing in. Desperately, I wrapped my legs around his arm tighter-keeping him from pulling back-just the thought of the impact had me shuttering.
"You're just one of the guys."
"Yeah, cept...with boobs. Dick."
He twisted his fist upwards, and I felt the air seeping out of me-despite trying to brace my stomach as hard as I could.
"Come on Sam, unless you like this as much as I do, you'll just get it over with."
I let my legs drop the same time as Blaine decided to give a rest, fortunately.
"Seriously? You like this?"
"Yeah, sure..." He let out a half assed laugh.
"He means Riding YOU like a bitch from behind, for once!" Joked Blaine, suddenly full of life, despite wanting to just 'sleep'.
"You're fuckin' weird...let me go."
"So you can bitch out of it?"
"So I can get it over with, and go to bed."
He slowly loosened his grip, so I ripped free of him to speed up his slow process. He walked around me- behind, and slightly to the side of the taconator. I raised my arms over my head, with my back against the wall, then took a deep breath, and exhaled, and closed my eyes.
"Fuck, I wasn't serious-"
"UUUUGHH!" I cried out louder than I meant to, and my legs buckled.
"Oh shit..." I barely even heard Matt...
I caught myself without dropping-without doubling over, like I said I wouldn't earlier-but all I could see was the grey rug beneath me and everything under my chest down to my waist wanted to fold-and I wanted my kneel for a moment at least-he'd hit me dead in the center-and I could feel waves of ache radiating from around my bellybutton, as I forced myself upright again. This time, I released a deeper cry as his gigantic fist connected under my ribs, with a strong, sickening impact.
I collapsed. There was no thinking about it or resisting it, until I was there and trying to pull in air-I couldn't even gasp-and I was sure I looked stupid curled up there in the fetal position. I felt Matt's hand on my back, and heard Blaine laughing-which pissed me the fuck off. But I couldn't say anything. I felt so helpless locked there...
"I'm SO fucking sorry-I didn't think he'd do it! I was kidding! Are you okay?"
"Well I got my laugh for the night...I'm going to bed." Blaine muttered.
"A-Ass" I tried to get out, but no air was coming, it was hardly more than mouthed.
"You're an ass, man." Matt said it for me.
"She broke my nose a month into knowing her. She's acting like she's never been winded before."
Fucking asshole. I tried to scream it, without thinking-I managed to weakly utter 'asshole' which was an accomplishment to itself to me. Blaine walked out of sight, casually, while Matt continued to try and console me.
"I think I'm gonna throw up..." I sounded like such a little bitch...
"Come on, lets at least get you off the floor..."
Matt grabbed me by my arm, and guided me to the couch, and I forced myself to lay flat on my back, resting on hand on my aching gut. I could breathe well enough to speak at this point, but my voice wasn't steady. I'd calmed down a bit-but I still felt pathetic...I guess that couldn't be helped.
Matt sat on the arm of the couch, near my head.
"Happy?"
"I already said I didn't know he'd do it. The hell do you wanna hear?"
We sat in silence for a moment.
"Sorry..."
"Doesn't matter. You seriously like crap like that?"
"...Yeah, why?"
I didn't respond.
"I know it's weird. I don't like... go around hitting people or anything, and I'd never hit a girl, you know? Unless she actually liked it too or something, I mean. I don't know why I like it-I know it's not remotely normal-"
"You like what you like, right? Everyone has their quirks. I was just asking, don't worry about it."
He shifted uncomfortably, and I felt the couch move a bit. I still felt a little nauseous, but I went on and sat up-it didn't hurt, but it still kind of felt like Blaine's fist was still in my stomach. Matt sat beside me once I gave him the room.
"You feel okay?"
"A little sick, but fine."
Matt put his hand flat against my stomach.
"So did you like that just now?"
"I was a LITTLE more focused on rather you were okay."
"So is that a no?"
He sighed, "I did...sorry. It's not like I'm attracted to you though. We have an amazing friendship, I wouldn't wanna risk ruining that-and I'm not your type, I know-plus the newest discovery..."
"If you had a chance to hit me then, would you?"
"Sam-I JUST said-"
"I'm just asking. I'm not into being beaten."
"...I dunno, shit..."
"Okay, where the hell's the shower?"
They had a shower/bath-so I opted for a bath. I stood in the mirror first, and removed my top, staring at my body-my stomach in particular. I could see the defined red marks where Blaine made impact, one just on my belly button, and one just under my ribs, exactly. That one was significantly more pronounced-though both stood out against my natural pale tone. They'd be gone by the morning-Blaine was right; this wasn't the first time I've been hit. I've been into MMA for 5 years, and before that I was boxing since I was 9. I was good enough to move on and spar with-then fight guys since I was 12.
None, however- were as big as him.
I sat in the warm water, and just thought to myself-reflecting on the past few years, again. Good ol' pa was a drinking man, and a very physical one. I hardly had friends growing up with him for a father-he scared most of them away. He actually broke a bat attacking Matt for simply being there when he got home from work. Good ol' ma always stayed with the drunk shit though-I guess she was a dumb shit. On my sixteenth birthday he got really drunk, and my mother decided then that she'd leave, that night. This story ends with him shooting her in the face, and trying to shoot me-I manage to get away, and I'm homeless.
There wasn't a moment of living like that I didn't wish I could talk to Matt-or anyone I knew, for that matter. I believe it was then though, that I accepted just how strongly I felt for him. I was a wreck of self pity and I had turned into a reclusive brat. I was too proud to be a bum-I managed to steal instead.
Eventually the police would catch up with me, but not to arrest me-but to tell me my dad had committed suicide-and I was heir to everything. I sold the old house. The instant I got my own place-my own phone, I called Matt...
I'm financially secure now-but I work anyway-because I don't like to think that it's related to my father. Matt's the only person who knows this all, of course. Recalling this all just reminded me how important it was to try-I had to at least try to be with him-and make the most of the time we had. I'm too used to thinking I could die any second to worry about every little repercussion-I'd rather live life, and the only thing left losing I give a rat's ass about losing anymore is him.
I slept in a white camisole and shorts-the same thing I'd run away in, ironically-I had just been woken up by my mom then, had no time to get dressed. I guess I'd gotten used to it-still was getting out of the habit. I used to sleep in the same bed as Matt in his room-tonight I decided I'd stick with the couch. I didn't want to make things more awkward for him than they already were.
"Change of plans tonight?"
The light flipped on, and I groaned loudly, I was just getting to sleep.
"What the fuck, dude?"
"Sorry, if you were sleep. I just wanted to talk, really fast."
"About what?" I didn't bother to sit up.
I saw him standing near the light switch on the wall, so I sat up a bit-still slouched against one arm of the couch so that he could sit down. He complied without instruction.
"I just wanted to apologize, if something I said earlier might've offended you..."
"Matt, I gotta say...you're acting like a real pussy right about now."
First we sat in silence for a moment, then slowly he started to laugh to himself.
"Sounds like you. I just don't want you to get the wrong idea...you're amazing-and I'm...weird, but I don't wanna do anything to endanger our friendship."
I went on and sat up, then laid across his lap, opposite to how I was. I stretched my arms up, over my head-and with my back propped up in his lap, I revealed my stomach in a way that might normally be out of character for me, and I felt him tremble ever so slightly beneath me.
"So...those are the bruises, huh?" He tried to distract himself.
"Hit me."
"WHAT!?"
"You said you like it right? Then I want you to do it."
He rubbed his hand on my stomach again-a habit he's always done I was beginning to understand.
"Are you sure? This doesn't feel right..."
I didn't budge, until I felt his body jerk, and anticipated the punches-he threw three. One hit me in my left side, the other two didn't sink in, though the pressure of the impact on my plexus on the third punch sent a slight familiar ache through me again-and my voice trembled momentarily as I spoke.
"Harder."
He was throbbing beneath me-I could feel it-and it was nice to know, but uncomfortable digging into my back. In any event, it was enough to distract me when he threw his next punch, connecting just above my belly button as I was breathing in-he locked my lungs. The next punch, landing directly in my plexus with considerable more force pushed the air out of me in a muted cry as I forced my mouth to stay shut. My body jumped in response, so I wrapped around his shoulders while he fired off 4 more punches, all landing generally in the middle-though none of them doing significant damage.
"I thought you said you didn't like this kinda thing?"
"For you, I think I could learn to like it."
I rested my head on his shoulder as I sat up in his lap-and he pushed his fist in and out of my stomach, playing with it.
"Your stomach's pretty firm, and perfe-"
"Sounds like you're talking about boobs."
He laughed, then tried to get up-I moved so he could.
"I just don't know if this is right..."
"What?"
"You're just supposed to be a friend..."
"We both want more. Don't be such a picky bitch on me."
"If it didn't work out-who knows how it could affect our friendship?"
---------- Post added at 09:38 PM ---------- Previous post was at 09:37 PM ----------
When I awoke in the morning, I was covered by a blanket, and Blaine was in the recliner across from me, watching some or other reality show on a medium sized TV.
When I awoke in the morning, I was covered by a blanket, and Blaine was in the recliner adjacent from me, watching some or other reality show on a medium sized TV. He wore a biker jacket with a red muscle shirt beneath, and black jeans...something you usually only see in movies. I assumed the blanket was a parting gift from Matt, since he had work and likely left before now.
"Hey, last night I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"
"Huh? Why?"
Blaine looked away from the TV, and he locked his eyes on mine-looking for a reaction to his next words.
"Matt flipped shit this morning on me-he's NEVER flipped out like that before-I guess I hurt you more than I thought."
"Just bruises-I let you do it, so don't worry about it."
"I know you did. Since when do I hit people based on hearsay?"
"Yeah, I know..."
"I kinda thought Matt would stop me anyway, you know. I guess not though-he put me up to it..."
I rubbed my stomach under the blanket, feeling the superficial soreness from the bruises, Blaine left his mark-Matt however had not, which was just fine.
"I just wanted to apologize, though. My bad..."
"Dude...it's cool."
I've always been comfortable around Matt-we've been friends since I hardly had anything WORTH hiding...Blaine was a different story, however. I sat there in an uncomfortable silence, as he watched TV for a moment, before deciding to just go get my stuff from Matt's room, at least-wrapped in the blanket.
"Hey, what the hell do we do until 6?"
"...This."
"Are you fuckin' serious?"
"Getting stuck here was your own damn fault."
I sighed, exasperated, and stuck in front of a TV as cheesiest shit aired. We'd been sitting for two hours watching old reruns of fucking Power Rangers-returning to your youth is one thing-but Blaine was way too into this...which is priceless in its own light, he could swallow any of the characters on screen whole. It's rather priceless that he would somehow find a marathon of this shit...he had a knack for being a consistently odd asshole.
"Fuck this, man, I'm hungry."
"Bitch, the kitchen's RIGHT there." Blaine gestured to the area without carpet, a stove, and a fridge.
"I can't cook for shit-lets go get something."
"Can't, broke."
I heard the theme song start again, and felt slightly nauseated.
"I'll pay. Just drive."
We went to a 'Hardees' a few blocks away-a bit further than Blaine wanted to go, but there was no TV on there. I don't recall my order, I wasn't especially hungry. We sat across from eachother, so I could lie in the booth as I waited to hear our order.
"This is fuckin' boring..." Blaine whined-slouching in his seat, "I'm missing my marathon for THIS?"
"For free food? Yes. I'm sorry. Ass. I don't MEAN to feed you."
"Such a bitch..." Blaine put his head down.
I saw David as he walked in, in a green Jersey and shorts-he'd let himself go, had a bit of a gut...and he wasn't exactly cleanly shaven anymore. He looked JUST like one of those guys who never grows up-jewfro and all...ever since I met him though, that's all he ever was. I never really liked him-just tolerated his presence since he came with Matt and Blaine. When he came in, I stayed as I was, filling my side of the table in the hopes he would sit by Blaine instead.
"DUUUDE am I gonna GET to sit down?" He stopped right over my feet-I pointed at Blaine's booth.
"Blaine I gotta say, this is one rude ass bitch..."
I sighed-and sat up reluctantly-slouching now with my back angled between the wall and seat, and he let himself drop almost as fast as I move into the seat. Part of me wanted to kick my leg back up-and hit him dead in the face-but I dropped it on to the floor anyway. Blaine laughed to himself-he had no clue how irritating this fat fuck was.
"You don't recognize Sam, man?"
"Who?"
"Sam. Samantha, dumbass!"
He looked at my face-then his eyes drifted down, which was a tad repulsive-but he found his way back to my face-then eyes.
"Oh HOLY SHIT! NO FUCKIN WAY!" He punched me in the shoulder.
"You filled OUT girl, goddamn! I hardly recognized you at ALL."
"Huh..."
He snatched me forward and trapped me in a hug-I wanted to bite a chunk out of his neck, but he might actually have liked it. Plus he smelled like shit-I might've gotten an infection...
"It's been like 5 years-can't show your bro no love? He grabbed my ass suddenly-I pushed him off of me.
"Seriously...stop."
David laughed as loud, and obnoxiously as ever and I choked back the growing urge to punch him in the face.
"I'm just messin with you girl, chill-we're cool right?"
He made a fist and slow motion punched me in the face, before I pushed his hand away.
"Hey, you still do that boxin' shit?"
I didn't respond, Blaine decided to cut in.
"That's a damn good question."
"I swear you used to be like a man, waaaay back when."
I sighed-then pushed past him to check on our order. Our food had been there and gotten cold-the worker simply shook her head as I got there.
"Can't hear anything over him, can you?"
"Not a damn thing..."
She laughed, and I took our tray back to the table-I sat it down in front of Blaine-then went back to take my seat-David blocked me. I sighed for a moment-just tired of his utterly obnoxious nature, and figured I'd go sit on Blaine's side. Naturally, I neglected to think it'd be that simple to deal with David's simple ass-as I turned, I moved directly into a hard punch which almost instantly collapsed my lungs. The only immediate sound competing with the impact of the blow was my voice as it drug out for a bit-I caught my balance with my back against a table-and it took me a second to pull some air back in. Even if only for a few seconds though, it hurt-and I realized there was a crowd on me now. I was gonna fucking hurt David, at this point-my patience was totally done.
"I'm not as much of a wimp as I used to be, right? I got a mean ass right now...right?" He laughed.
Blaine put his head down and covered his face-at least he knew better...
"So how about it?" David started, "quick friendly round?"
He jumped up, and threw some half assed punches around in the air-showing off his ridiculously pitiful form, and I took a tight southpaw stance-my guard tight, as he moved in, smiling to himself. He threw in a straight left, I swayed further left, just under it and threw a light left to his ribs-buckling his body-then I came up with a hard right hook, hitting him in the face and flatlining him, in one fluid motion. He banged his head on the corner of a booth on his way down-and I briefly considered kicking him-I decided not to make it an issue worth reporting to the police. Everyone was silent now, just being in the restaurant was likely to cause a call to the cops, so I walked out. On the way, I heard people asking David and Blaine if they should call the cops.
"FUCK! You're still a goddamn man-I swear..."
David held a Ziploc bag of ice on his immensely reddened cheek-courtesy of the restaurant.
"You don't wanna get hit don't hit."
"Hey, remember when we used to go to the gym?" Blaine cut in.
"Yeah..."
"You used to love boxing people didn't you? You were an unofficial champion of the ring."
"Nah, that one dude beat me...well...like a fuckin' man."
"He was a man, and you were 14." He laughed, "but seriously...we oughtta go back, got nothing better to do anyway right? I can watch you win a few, unless you wanna go back to the apartment-my marathon ain't over yet."
The gym still smelled of piss. The blue-gray boxing ring trembled under the weight of two bulky guys laying into eachother inside, and the walls were still peeling beige messes. It's all I saw the instant I stepped in really...the arena, and the walls surrounding it. The work out equipment didn't matter, not the people talking or anything. I was...not to sound dramatic, but BURNING to be in the ring. It was my favorite place to be really-and I had forgotten just how much I loved it until I was there again-looking at it. The thick ropes I used to back my foes against-that I would use to support myself when my knees buckled...even the pain I felt in that fucking square was passion for me. Total piss and passion...
"David, look at her-tell me that ain't one happy lookin chick!" They both laughed.
I was fucking daydreaming...damn. I hurriedly walked to the ring, and away from them, and watched the guys in the ring go at it. They were obviously friends-pulling punches...it was boring...actually kinda painful to watch. Upon closer inspection, they weren't friends...father and son. The boy was about my age-defined face...pretty damn toned-I'm sure most girls would think he was a babe...
They stopped after a while.
"Hey, look at that." The greying dad pointed at me, "We got a fan."
"Heeeeyyy I think we DO!" The 'babe' sounded like he never hit puberty.
"That actually looks like you guys were having fun-I was just wandering if I could have a go."
They looked at eachother-both obviously amused at the idea.
"Now I don't pull punches, little lady." The old man spoke.
"Actually you were pulling them the whole time just now. I can name like 3 occasions for the last 30 seconds..."
"Wow, you know your stuff, huh?" The boy spoke again-I simply nodded.
"You try her, I'm gonna hit the bench for a bit-then maybe do some squats. REMEMBER: you already have a girlfriend."
They laughed to eachother again-and the old man handed me his gloves, after grabbing his shirt and a towel, and going to the bathroom. As I put the gloves on, the 'babe' continued to mock me.
"Sure you can move in that?"
I was in a red tank top and black tripp pants-all the chains and spikes removed. The kind of thing you build an insane sweat in-I was looking forward to that feel though.
"We'll find out, right?" He laughed at my response.
"Hey, babe!"
A fairly thick girl on the punching bags came over to the ring-in a sports top and trunks-obviously into boxing as well. She had a helmet on, and black gloves suiting the rest of her outfit.
"I got a fight for ya! But take it easy on her, kay? She's pretty small..."
The girl didn't say a thing, just climbed into the ring-so I did the same thing. Her boy-toy started the fight-and just like that the world fell away. I had no mouthpiece, helmet or any protective equipment on whatsoever-but I was GOING to do this. My opponent looked just as determined as me.
She thrusted her arm out in a quick, light jab-and I met her fist with my own, a quick test of my reflexes-she repeated two more times, before she stepped in hard and swung a hard right hook that I swayed out of. She was solid-but her legs were weak, she had to throw her whole body into anything she did-her arms were fast, but her body was sluggish. She couldn't keep up with me. THIS...was why I hated fighting girls. Totally tactless with their physical ability.
She threw a hard straight left that I swayed right from-then she swung an awkward uppercut-almost making me eat my previous thought. In stepping back I felt my back against the ropes-and she saw her opportunity to rush in and slammed a hard uppercut into my stomach. It didn't even hurt, but I let myself clinch to her anyway, my arms wrapped high on her shoulders as if embraced to her-and I let her fire more shots into my midsection.
"Harder." I whispered in her ear-and I felt her body jump in response.
She slammed another as hard as she could into my stomach, one that I felt, as I staggered back to the ropes-and my stomach ached and pulsed with the feeling.
I only briefly savored the feel before she swung a haymaker with her all for my face-and against the rope-I ducked-and came up with a hard uppercut-she wasn't as solid as she looked-and I felt my fist slide deep inside of her and spittle all over my face. Her jaw was limp and her defenses dropped as she curled around my fist-and disgusted now, I swung my own haymaker a hard right which sent her spiraling straight to the mat.
"HOLY SHIT!" The boy-toy's outcry woke me out of my daze.
"So maybe now I can try you on for size?"
Time passed for a bit without his response-his girl helped herself out of the ring, eventually. He offered her no help-he was more busy sizing me up, if that was even what he was doing...
"Heh...alriiiight-but I'm not about to pull any punches..."
He took his shirt off to show off-he was a big guy, but nothing to Blaine-and from what I saw earlier his form was total shit. He was something impressive to his woman, and that was fine-I personally was taken neither with his appearance, or his nature. I leaned casually against the ropes, waiting for him to get in. Once in, he began stretching his arms and working his shoulders-like he was about to do a lot of hard work. He didn't put wear a helmet OR put in a mouthpiece-he still wasn't taking me too seriously. I waited for him to beckon with his glove-holding it out for me, and so when he did, I immediately made contact with his glove.
I threw a straight left in the instant he began pulling his glove away, and he staggered, caught off guard. He laughed a little to himself-but he was visibly annoyed-which was what I wanted.
As he stepped up again, point blank range from me-he threw a lazy straight back at my face-and I turned my neck a little-moving out of it, before hitting him with another hard, straight left right in the mouth-he gritted his teeth and threw another, with the same results.
He swung a hard right almost as quick as I hit him, and I ducked it just barely-then quickly dashed to his side as he tried to throw a straight where he thought he'd pinned me. As he turned, I hit him with another straight left-and jumped back as he swung a right with all he had-the instant his arm passed I leaned forward and hit him with a left jab again, and it felt almost as if he were looking at me in hatred...but I know that meant he was starting to take me seriously. He was too big not to take seriously at the same though.
He backed me into a corner-and swung a hard right-most of his arm catching the turnbuckle itself as I straightened myself right behind him. As he swung his body back around at me, growling-I ducked as I weaved forward, and slammed a hard right into his right side-he threw a left straight back down at me, and I weaved far left, his momentum ripped him forward, and I slammed another shot directly into his kidneys-I raised my arms, without much moving room to just take the next shot. His backhand sent me to the ropes to the right of me, not behind me-and before I had my balance back-I leaned out of a straight punch, and continued the backing motion as he swung another predictable backhand-I did NOT however, predict running again into the turnbuckle-and as soon as my back met that he flattened me against it-his fist digging upwards in my stomach and through any muscle-my feet potentially having left the ground. In the impact I heard my initial cry-the air being pushed through my vocal cords-then I heard the sigh when your lungs do the last emptying themselves-this was my fault, for not taking him seriously...
As I tried to double over-he came up with an uppercut throwing my body straight again-then a hook sent me staggering across the ropes-the instant I caught myself on the turnbuckle across from me, his glove slammed again dead center in my mid-section-but there was still no air to push out-just a whimper. He did it again-and I felt myself heave, quickly growing more nauseated-and for a moment my momentum was cut. He swung his right hand this time at the back of my head-and I used the moment to dodge out heading towards, and behind him. There's no room to savor the match with him trying to kill me, so I guess I'd have to wrap it up.
He turned towards me, and prepared to resume his rampage-and as he swung his right, I moved to the left, and forward as his momentum came towards me-then I sent a straight right into his face-as he staggered where I was. Upon swinging back again I swayed hard to the left-as he arm went over my head my fist went into the side of his, throwing him with his momentum to the floor.
With his body, his temper collapsed as well, and he slowly started laughing to himself, while I pressed into my upper belly, breathing slowly. My jaw felt unhinged and my head was spinning slightly-but that would pass as I adjusted to the slowing of my adrenaline. As my adrenaline died down, I began to feel the chill of being saturated in sweat. The 'boy toy' rolled over, flat on his back, and I kinda laughed to myself at this point, as well.
"Chick's not bad then, I take it?" The old man's voice rang clear as he came into view, a towel draped over his shoulder."
"She's somethin' else, pops." Who TALKS like that anymore?
The old man scrambled into the ring, and smacked his son upside the head.
"Lemme see your gloves, I gotta see this."
"Actually...can I get a few minutes? He got a few good ones in, I feel a bit sick..."
"So I know what's weak now-just keep working the body, huh?"
Truth be told, I wasn't interested in boxing the old fucker before he said that-not that I thought he'd suck, I just would rather...not box someone when I'd started to feel taxed from prior matches. But just the thought he was going to take this as seriously as I would made it seem so much more worth it, for me.
Gloves touched, then he raised his arm again, in the slow gesture of a punch-I met gloves with him quickly again. He threw a faint-leaving his arm lingering-and met his glove again, undaunted or swayed by his bluff.
Then I was totally caught off guard when he threw another bluff the same way, instead carrying his fist all the way around and catching me with a right hook-I staggered a few steps backward, then returned fire with a hook of my own, he swayed backwards on me, and I watched my own fist sail just before his nose without making contact-the old man simply pulls back in with a right straight, and I lean towards it, pulling to the right at the last moment-and pulling my whole body to the left as I bring my right straight for his face-with his momentum going, I was sure I had him-so my body was completely unbraced as I heard myself cry out when his left hand rammed the air from me again-and I fell on him to keep myself from collapsing for a moment.
"You're good...but two things-never forget your opponent's arms are longer than yours-and never assume they're right handed."
I'd just fallen against some of the most obvious principles in boxing...suffice to say I was disappointed in myself-but I didn't have room to be hard on myself, because I'd left myself open to anything he might do to stop my thoughts from flowing-and as he slammed into me again, my legs quit, and I collapsed to my knees and the fetal position, gasping. All of my adrenaline was shot, and I was sure I was close to puking-I couldn't even swallow the lump in my throat. I felt more scared of throwing up than embarrassed for the situation, and this was the first time this had ever happened to me.
This was just not my day-I've never had this kind of trouble dealing with people-I guess my time out of practice had made me rusty...
"Sorry, maybe we should call it a quits."
I didn't want that. It's about all I could say-not even on a reasonable level-but I didn't want it to end with me gasping on the floor like a little bitch-and somehow those words alone gave me the will to stand again. I still couldn't breathe-I still felt sick...
The old bastard fired a light jab at my gut again-and I shielded myself with both hands, irrationally petrified-he brought a straight left up and punched me right in the nose-then again with a right, sending me staggering-I was feeling lightheaded, but I hated the way it was going-I had to make an attempt. As he approached I threw a hard left he leaned out of-I made a quick dash for the right-anticipating his punch, which came as I expected-a hard left much like a clothesline that I went under-and swung a hard right, knocking the old man off balance-sending him staggering.
I still couldn't feel myself breathing-my waist was tight and the only thing I had going for me was a really warped sense of adrenaline.
Taking advantage of the momentum being on my side- I rushed in with another punch-one he ducked-and I pulled my body away as he shot his left towards it, throwing myself off balance as I realized it was another feint-and his uppercut connected-and I staggered back against the ropes-and held on. I wanted to know that I COULD touch him-in this condition I couldn't have beat him-but at my best, maybe...
He slammed a hard right in my stomach as I sat there against the ropes-and brought the world momentarily back into focus for me, and I fell forward-unable to stop myself. He caught me, and pushed me back against the ropes and fired two more shots off, the latter must've been with his all-it felt like my insides caught fire and I turned my body away. My legs buckled in the process, and I collapsed against the turnbuckle, realizing I had yet to breathe. My vision was shot, but I could hear the old man, thought he sounded distant.
"Damn, I really overdid it...sorry..."
His voice started to blur out, and I began to black out. The pain started going numb, and the last thing from the moment I recalled was a sharp inhale before losing consciousness. I had forgotten I'd even been with David and Blaine until I came to in the apartment, on the couch again.
It was cold-I was still in sweaty ass clothes. Trying to push aside thoughts of my new experiences, I immediately searched Matt's room where I left my bag-digging through my clothes for something to change into after I showered-it was almost 5, so in about two hours I'd be seeing Matt-I've never been so nervous to see him ever before-I'd almost entirely forgotten now that I had been beaten to the point of unconsciousness...
The phone rang again, and I fumbled through the navy blue blanket to find it. I hated being woken up for any reason-this included. So as I pulled the small black cordless phone from the wild mess of blanket and laundry, I turned the ringer off, and laid back down, trying to get back to sleep. Too late though-and in a matter of minutes, I was up again, groggily checking the phone's caller ID.
Telemarketing... simply put, the legal form of harassment. I squeezed out a light yawn, as I pushed myself up and out of bed. Outside of the blanket, my pajamas were drenched in sweat, and the chill ran from my skin to my spine as I went to my old dresser, staggering through disorganized laundry. I picked out a sky blue tank top and faded black jeans. My friends always criticized me for my fashion-because I'm 'not with the times', personally, I can't be fucked with the times though. I just like what I like...
My hair was wild as shit, and I was still pale as ever. My eyes were like emeralds under my ruby hair-which offset my paper skin in a manner I found most unpleasant...but my skin never tanned. It was always my biggest flaw, in my head. Some of my friends would argue it's that I'm so boyish...but I don't especially care if that WAS unappealing. I always figured guys liked it when they had a girl they could talk with anyway.
As I stepped out of the shower, the phone rang again, and I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and hurried back to my room-anticipating that it was finally the call I was waiting for. It was.
"Samantha, get your ass over here! It's 3, you slept an extra two hours?"
"Work was rough as fuck-I only got like 4 hours with those extra two."
Matt laughed, and I continued.
"And you were supposed to wake me up, dick!"
"Yeah yeah-just hurry up, David and Blaine gotta go to work in a bit-I don't want you to miss them."
"Alright-I'm on the way."
I hung up the phone, and went back to the bathroom, to get my clothes. As I removed the towel, I looked briefly in the mirror again. I was blushing-the only time there was color in my cheeks. My body was slender for the most-as pale as my face, and the only outstanding part of me to other girls would be my abs-though I've seen better, and the slight definition in my arms. Still, I know that I'm attractive enough to a lot of guys...I'm just not what I want of myself.
No guy I've ever been with even thought I was the cuddly type for an instant, either they looked at me as another guy, or a piece of ass, and I hated it. For that if nothing else, I wish maybe my breasts were just a little bigger-my figure was just a little more curvy...maybe that I could be a little softer...but I'm happy with the way I live, so I'm not willing to change that. I just hate the ultimatum of boy or whore.
Not that I AM a whore-actually I'm still a virgin, which-at 19 is a feat to most females.
Matt was my best friend since 7th grade, and I'm 19 now. He's never seen me as a man, or some other random slutty bitch. He's the only guy to have been there when I cried, the only one to believe I really would. He never tried to get in my pants either-I don't think he ever wanted to, and he's the only guy to have ever stood up for me. When I was sad he would hold me when we were younger-we'd cuddle-he was the only person who would, and he'd listen to all of my sad stories no matter how shallow they were, and never repeated a word of them.
That, if nothing else, is why I feel the way I do about him. I've always felt we were meant to be more than friends, I just didn't know if he felt the same-and I couldn't risk losing him to the whims of a shallow desire.
I pushed through the double doors, out of breath from having run all the way, to avoid missing the show. A tall, thin guy in a striped red and black shirt under a dark blue vest with short black hair and unusual piercing red eyes become my priority in the poor lighting through the crowd. It wasn't long before I found him-running up behind him and jumping on his back-forcing an opening in the crowd as I pulled back, locking him in a tight choke hold-his attempt to gasp for air turned into a suffocated cough instantly.
"The fuck's up with calling me late, dude?"
"Goddammit Sam!"
"Punk ass can't breathe?" Blaine laughed.
Blaine was the biggest fucker I've ever met. He's scary as shit, but I'm sure he's never meant to be that way. His voice always booms and he towers over everyone with muscles in his God damn hair even-well, if he'd had any. He had a crush on me when we first met, even though that wouldn't work out, he's one of the nicest people I've ever met, when he's not being a dick. In my sophomore year of high school, I broke his nose for grabbing my ass-now he's 3 sizes bigger...I'm about the same size.
"Sam-"
"What, bitch?"
"Aw, getting man-handled by a girl...again." Blaine continued to laugh.
I was caught off guard and my voice jumped a bit when Matt elbowed me in the stomach, it didn't even hurt though. I pulled him back and tightened my hold on him.
"That all you got, bitch?"
"Sam, come ON!"
He elbowed me harder-and I started to feel it, so I let him go.
"A whole 3 years, and you haven't changed at ALL..." Matt stated flatly, as he turned and looked at me.
His eyes were fixed and focused on me longer than any time they'd been before then, before he returned to his usually spaced, thoughtful look. I took it in, hoping for significant signs, but as always I could never read any signs of affection in him.
"Kinda hurt there, asshole." I raised my top slightly, and rubbed my stomach a bit.
My abs were firm, but not impenetrable. Matt cast a side long glance at my body, then placed his fist on my stomach, and pushed it in gently.
"Still working your way to manhood hm?"
"Still working your way to womanhood?"
He kept his hand there for a second, so I pulled the top up a little more, from over his hand, showing a little more of my stomach. At that, he quickly pulled his hand back.
"My bad, I wasn't paying attention..." He blushed, and I dropped my shirt back.
"Whatever, you know you liked it."
He laughed again, then Blaine interrupted.
"Hey, I'll say it-that's pretty damn hot. Just don't start looking like a man."
I then remembered where we were, as I heard a song end. The band on stage was in black leather-usual rocker attire...they were a pretty generic sounding local band, the kind of shit that never interests me, personally. As they begin to introduce their next song, I addressed Matt again.
"Hey, where's David?"
"You just missed him, but we'll see him tomorrow too, if you're on time, that is."
"It's your birthday, I wouldn't miss it for the world...
He started to say something, but the crowd went crazy for the band-our conversation was now totally on hold. I wished like hell they'd have just played another acoustic. But with the ear splitting silence, I wrapped myself around Matt's arm, and I felt him jump slightly, then I stood close to his ear.
"I missed you so much..."
I layed my head on his chest, and he wrapped his other arm around me. I then smiled as I looked at Blaine as he mouthed 'Matt and Sam sittin' in a tree', gesturing to the words as if that'd make him any more clear. I was just happy to finally have this moment back. The same place as always, the same people... something warm and familiar. After these last three years I didn't know what I was going to do without...this.
Matt and Blaine shared an apartment, at the time, a neat, well-kept place, which was pretty surprising considering Blaine lived there. I guess Matt did all the cleaning. When we finally got back to the apartment, Blaine had already left for work, and so it was just me and Matt. The whole of the car ride home we swapped stories, talked like close friends-it was as if all the past three years never happened. Even talking about it with him, it never got awkward or depressing-the words kept flowing the entire time...
"Hey, you still have that scar from when Pat cracked you with the bat?"
"Why?" He was slightly surprised, but tilted his head for me.
The scar was hidden beneath his hair-but It was still there, a long wild gash with tell-tale signs of poor stitching.
"He was such a dick..."
"He was your dad, though. He's gone now, fuck it..."
"Yeah..."
Matt punched me softly in the stomach.
"You still box?"
"Nah-I got enough equipment at my place now-fuck the gym."
"Well then, you've grown the fuck up since last I saw you on your own, didn't you? I hit my damn funny bone elbowing you...shit's not funny."
"Nor is that shit-corny bastard."
"Ha. I've been hitting the gym with Blaine since you left."
"Oh REALLY now? So you DID decide you were a man?"
"Hey dammit. I'll make my decision when you do."
I laughed a bit.
"So Blaine make you wrestle him yet?"
"Do I LOOK stupid?"
"I hate trick questions, man."
"But I can bench at least 150 now, feeling proud."
Already half dressed, I took in his body-he WAS gaining form. He was so damn skinny last time I'd seen him I could probably kill him blowing too hard in his direction-now though his pecs stood out-his arms looked thicker...he was coming along great.
"Matt's a hottie now? I thought you LIKED being a geek..."
"Now I'm a super geek!"
He jumped up, and did a dramatic flex pose-and as quick as he did, I fired a hard right dead in the center of his stomach, and he still collapsed under the blow, doubling over-then trying to play it off.
"More like super bitch!"
"Hey, you'd drop if someone hit you like that. Admit it."
"Wanna bet?"
"Fuck yeah."
"Then try me." I stood up, and he took a step back, raising a hand to keep me back.
"I c-can't just.."
We heard the door to the front unlock, and I saw Matt smirk a bit-and my heart sank.
We raced out of his bedroom to greet Blaine as he walked in. Blaine in a purple t-shirt and black jeans was a comic image in itself I noted, as I beat Matt to him by a split second. As Matt began to speak, I cut him off.
"WELCOME TO TACO BELL, THE TERMINATOR WILL TAKE YOUR ORDAH!" I spewed, and Blaine's face was as humored as my joke was humorous.
"Cute."
"Aww...hard day at work, big guy?"
I pushed to keep the conversation going-to keep drowning out Matt.
"I'm just tired-closing is bullshit."
"I get you, man. I won't hold you-night!"
"HOLD THE FUCK UP!" Matt yelled out over me-thwarting me.
"LALALALA" I tried to talk over him, childishly-but he continued.
"Me and SaMAAANtha over there have a little wager. She says she's got these abs of steel and nobody-including you can drop her...him...it."
"I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING LIKE-"
"Seriously?"
Blaine rammed his gigantic fist towards my midsection quick, and I put my hands up and stopped the impact as best I could. I heard Matt laugh a bit, so I punched him in the shoulder, he rubbed his arm.
"See? She thinks she's unstoppable!"
"You said you were tired, dude!"
"I can do this real fast, before I go to bed."
Matt locked me into a full nelson from behind.
"Get her, big guy!"
"This is BULLSHIT!"
I backed Matt into a wall-then from there he refused to budge-he held me as tight as he could-and he HAD gotten a lot stronger over the years-I couldn't get loose, and from the wall I couldn't move him, my feet were hardly even touching the carpet. Blaine was there quick-lining up how he wanted to hit me-I felt a shock through my gut just from the thought, panicked, and lifted my legs to cover my stomach. I twisted and struggled against them as Blaine struggled to get my legs down and Matt struggled to keep me up. I considered screaming rape-but I half worried someone in the apartment complex might take me seriously.
"Goddammit Matt-I'm a girl!" I began grasping for straws.
"When'd THAT start?"
"I didn't hit you as hard as this fucker! Blaine, I thought you didn't hit girls!?"
Blaine pressed his fist against my stomach, then pushed it in deep, starting a deep, slow ache and keeping me from breathing in. Desperately, I wrapped my legs around his arm tighter-keeping him from pulling back-just the thought of the impact had me shuttering.
"You're just one of the guys."
"Yeah, cept...with boobs. Dick."
He twisted his fist upwards, and I felt the air seeping out of me-despite trying to brace my stomach as hard as I could.
"Come on Sam, unless you like this as much as I do, you'll just get it over with."
I let my legs drop the same time as Blaine decided to give a rest, fortunately.
"Seriously? You like this?"
"Yeah, sure..." He let out a half assed laugh.
"He means Riding YOU like a bitch from behind, for once!" Joked Blaine, suddenly full of life, despite wanting to just 'sleep'.
"You're fuckin' weird...let me go."
"So you can bitch out of it?"
"So I can get it over with, and go to bed."
He slowly loosened his grip, so I ripped free of him to speed up his slow process. He walked around me- behind, and slightly to the side of the taconator. I raised my arms over my head, with my back against the wall, then took a deep breath, and exhaled, and closed my eyes.
"Fuck, I wasn't serious-"
"UUUUGHH!" I cried out louder than I meant to, and my legs buckled.
"Oh shit..." I barely even heard Matt...
I caught myself without dropping-without doubling over, like I said I wouldn't earlier-but all I could see was the grey rug beneath me and everything under my chest down to my waist wanted to fold-and I wanted my kneel for a moment at least-he'd hit me dead in the center-and I could feel waves of ache radiating from around my bellybutton, as I forced myself upright again. This time, I released a deeper cry as his gigantic fist connected under my ribs, with a strong, sickening impact.
I collapsed. There was no thinking about it or resisting it, until I was there and trying to pull in air-I couldn't even gasp-and I was sure I looked stupid curled up there in the fetal position. I felt Matt's hand on my back, and heard Blaine laughing-which pissed me the fuck off. But I couldn't say anything. I felt so helpless locked there...
"I'm SO fucking sorry-I didn't think he'd do it! I was kidding! Are you okay?"
"Well I got my laugh for the night...I'm going to bed." Blaine muttered.
"A-Ass" I tried to get out, but no air was coming, it was hardly more than mouthed.
"You're an ass, man." Matt said it for me.
"She broke my nose a month into knowing her. She's acting like she's never been winded before."
Fucking asshole. I tried to scream it, without thinking-I managed to weakly utter 'asshole' which was an accomplishment to itself to me. Blaine walked out of sight, casually, while Matt continued to try and console me.
"I think I'm gonna throw up..." I sounded like such a little bitch...
"Come on, lets at least get you off the floor..."
Matt grabbed me by my arm, and guided me to the couch, and I forced myself to lay flat on my back, resting on hand on my aching gut. I could breathe well enough to speak at this point, but my voice wasn't steady. I'd calmed down a bit-but I still felt pathetic...I guess that couldn't be helped.
Matt sat on the arm of the couch, near my head.
"Happy?"
"I already said I didn't know he'd do it. The hell do you wanna hear?"
We sat in silence for a moment.
"Sorry..."
"Doesn't matter. You seriously like crap like that?"
"...Yeah, why?"
I didn't respond.
"I know it's weird. I don't like... go around hitting people or anything, and I'd never hit a girl, you know? Unless she actually liked it too or something, I mean. I don't know why I like it-I know it's not remotely normal-"
"You like what you like, right? Everyone has their quirks. I was just asking, don't worry about it."
He shifted uncomfortably, and I felt the couch move a bit. I still felt a little nauseous, but I went on and sat up-it didn't hurt, but it still kind of felt like Blaine's fist was still in my stomach. Matt sat beside me once I gave him the room.
"You feel okay?"
"A little sick, but fine."
Matt put his hand flat against my stomach.
"So did you like that just now?"
"I was a LITTLE more focused on rather you were okay."
"So is that a no?"
He sighed, "I did...sorry. It's not like I'm attracted to you though. We have an amazing friendship, I wouldn't wanna risk ruining that-and I'm not your type, I know-plus the newest discovery..."
"If you had a chance to hit me then, would you?"
"Sam-I JUST said-"
"I'm just asking. I'm not into being beaten."
"...I dunno, shit..."
"Okay, where the hell's the shower?"
They had a shower/bath-so I opted for a bath. I stood in the mirror first, and removed my top, staring at my body-my stomach in particular. I could see the defined red marks where Blaine made impact, one just on my belly button, and one just under my ribs, exactly. That one was significantly more pronounced-though both stood out against my natural pale tone. They'd be gone by the morning-Blaine was right; this wasn't the first time I've been hit. I've been into MMA for 5 years, and before that I was boxing since I was 9. I was good enough to move on and spar with-then fight guys since I was 12.
None, however- were as big as him.
I sat in the warm water, and just thought to myself-reflecting on the past few years, again. Good ol' pa was a drinking man, and a very physical one. I hardly had friends growing up with him for a father-he scared most of them away. He actually broke a bat attacking Matt for simply being there when he got home from work. Good ol' ma always stayed with the drunk shit though-I guess she was a dumb shit. On my sixteenth birthday he got really drunk, and my mother decided then that she'd leave, that night. This story ends with him shooting her in the face, and trying to shoot me-I manage to get away, and I'm homeless.
There wasn't a moment of living like that I didn't wish I could talk to Matt-or anyone I knew, for that matter. I believe it was then though, that I accepted just how strongly I felt for him. I was a wreck of self pity and I had turned into a reclusive brat. I was too proud to be a bum-I managed to steal instead.
Eventually the police would catch up with me, but not to arrest me-but to tell me my dad had committed suicide-and I was heir to everything. I sold the old house. The instant I got my own place-my own phone, I called Matt...
I'm financially secure now-but I work anyway-because I don't like to think that it's related to my father. Matt's the only person who knows this all, of course. Recalling this all just reminded me how important it was to try-I had to at least try to be with him-and make the most of the time we had. I'm too used to thinking I could die any second to worry about every little repercussion-I'd rather live life, and the only thing left losing I give a rat's ass about losing anymore is him.
I slept in a white camisole and shorts-the same thing I'd run away in, ironically-I had just been woken up by my mom then, had no time to get dressed. I guess I'd gotten used to it-still was getting out of the habit. I used to sleep in the same bed as Matt in his room-tonight I decided I'd stick with the couch. I didn't want to make things more awkward for him than they already were.
"Change of plans tonight?"
The light flipped on, and I groaned loudly, I was just getting to sleep.
"What the fuck, dude?"
"Sorry, if you were sleep. I just wanted to talk, really fast."
"About what?" I didn't bother to sit up.
I saw him standing near the light switch on the wall, so I sat up a bit-still slouched against one arm of the couch so that he could sit down. He complied without instruction.
"I just wanted to apologize, if something I said earlier might've offended you..."
"Matt, I gotta say...you're acting like a real pussy right about now."
First we sat in silence for a moment, then slowly he started to laugh to himself.
"Sounds like you. I just don't want you to get the wrong idea...you're amazing-and I'm...weird, but I don't wanna do anything to endanger our friendship."
I went on and sat up, then laid across his lap, opposite to how I was. I stretched my arms up, over my head-and with my back propped up in his lap, I revealed my stomach in a way that might normally be out of character for me, and I felt him tremble ever so slightly beneath me.
"So...those are the bruises, huh?" He tried to distract himself.
"Hit me."
"WHAT!?"
"You said you like it right? Then I want you to do it."
He rubbed his hand on my stomach again-a habit he's always done I was beginning to understand.
"Are you sure? This doesn't feel right..."
I didn't budge, until I felt his body jerk, and anticipated the punches-he threw three. One hit me in my left side, the other two didn't sink in, though the pressure of the impact on my plexus on the third punch sent a slight familiar ache through me again-and my voice trembled momentarily as I spoke.
"Harder."
He was throbbing beneath me-I could feel it-and it was nice to know, but uncomfortable digging into my back. In any event, it was enough to distract me when he threw his next punch, connecting just above my belly button as I was breathing in-he locked my lungs. The next punch, landing directly in my plexus with considerable more force pushed the air out of me in a muted cry as I forced my mouth to stay shut. My body jumped in response, so I wrapped around his shoulders while he fired off 4 more punches, all landing generally in the middle-though none of them doing significant damage.
"I thought you said you didn't like this kinda thing?"
"For you, I think I could learn to like it."
I rested my head on his shoulder as I sat up in his lap-and he pushed his fist in and out of my stomach, playing with it.
"Your stomach's pretty firm, and perfe-"
"Sounds like you're talking about boobs."
He laughed, then tried to get up-I moved so he could.
"I just don't know if this is right..."
"What?"
"You're just supposed to be a friend..."
"We both want more. Don't be such a picky bitch on me."
"If it didn't work out-who knows how it could affect our friendship?"
---------- Post added at 09:38 PM ---------- Previous post was at 09:37 PM ----------
When I awoke in the morning, I was covered by a blanket, and Blaine was in the recliner across from me, watching some or other reality show on a medium sized TV.
When I awoke in the morning, I was covered by a blanket, and Blaine was in the recliner adjacent from me, watching some or other reality show on a medium sized TV. He wore a biker jacket with a red muscle shirt beneath, and black jeans...something you usually only see in movies. I assumed the blanket was a parting gift from Matt, since he had work and likely left before now.
"Hey, last night I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"
"Huh? Why?"
Blaine looked away from the TV, and he locked his eyes on mine-looking for a reaction to his next words.
"Matt flipped shit this morning on me-he's NEVER flipped out like that before-I guess I hurt you more than I thought."
"Just bruises-I let you do it, so don't worry about it."
"I know you did. Since when do I hit people based on hearsay?"
"Yeah, I know..."
"I kinda thought Matt would stop me anyway, you know. I guess not though-he put me up to it..."
I rubbed my stomach under the blanket, feeling the superficial soreness from the bruises, Blaine left his mark-Matt however had not, which was just fine.
"I just wanted to apologize, though. My bad..."
"Dude...it's cool."
I've always been comfortable around Matt-we've been friends since I hardly had anything WORTH hiding...Blaine was a different story, however. I sat there in an uncomfortable silence, as he watched TV for a moment, before deciding to just go get my stuff from Matt's room, at least-wrapped in the blanket.
"Hey, what the hell do we do until 6?"
"...This."
"Are you fuckin' serious?"
"Getting stuck here was your own damn fault."
I sighed, exasperated, and stuck in front of a TV as cheesiest shit aired. We'd been sitting for two hours watching old reruns of fucking Power Rangers-returning to your youth is one thing-but Blaine was way too into this...which is priceless in its own light, he could swallow any of the characters on screen whole. It's rather priceless that he would somehow find a marathon of this shit...he had a knack for being a consistently odd asshole.
"Fuck this, man, I'm hungry."
"Bitch, the kitchen's RIGHT there." Blaine gestured to the area without carpet, a stove, and a fridge.
"I can't cook for shit-lets go get something."
"Can't, broke."
I heard the theme song start again, and felt slightly nauseated.
"I'll pay. Just drive."
We went to a 'Hardees' a few blocks away-a bit further than Blaine wanted to go, but there was no TV on there. I don't recall my order, I wasn't especially hungry. We sat across from eachother, so I could lie in the booth as I waited to hear our order.
"This is fuckin' boring..." Blaine whined-slouching in his seat, "I'm missing my marathon for THIS?"
"For free food? Yes. I'm sorry. Ass. I don't MEAN to feed you."
"Such a bitch..." Blaine put his head down.
I saw David as he walked in, in a green Jersey and shorts-he'd let himself go, had a bit of a gut...and he wasn't exactly cleanly shaven anymore. He looked JUST like one of those guys who never grows up-jewfro and all...ever since I met him though, that's all he ever was. I never really liked him-just tolerated his presence since he came with Matt and Blaine. When he came in, I stayed as I was, filling my side of the table in the hopes he would sit by Blaine instead.
"DUUUDE am I gonna GET to sit down?" He stopped right over my feet-I pointed at Blaine's booth.
"Blaine I gotta say, this is one rude ass bitch..."
I sighed-and sat up reluctantly-slouching now with my back angled between the wall and seat, and he let himself drop almost as fast as I move into the seat. Part of me wanted to kick my leg back up-and hit him dead in the face-but I dropped it on to the floor anyway. Blaine laughed to himself-he had no clue how irritating this fat fuck was.
"You don't recognize Sam, man?"
"Who?"
"Sam. Samantha, dumbass!"
He looked at my face-then his eyes drifted down, which was a tad repulsive-but he found his way back to my face-then eyes.
"Oh HOLY SHIT! NO FUCKIN WAY!" He punched me in the shoulder.
"You filled OUT girl, goddamn! I hardly recognized you at ALL."
"Huh..."
He snatched me forward and trapped me in a hug-I wanted to bite a chunk out of his neck, but he might actually have liked it. Plus he smelled like shit-I might've gotten an infection...
"It's been like 5 years-can't show your bro no love? He grabbed my ass suddenly-I pushed him off of me.
"Seriously...stop."
David laughed as loud, and obnoxiously as ever and I choked back the growing urge to punch him in the face.
"I'm just messin with you girl, chill-we're cool right?"
He made a fist and slow motion punched me in the face, before I pushed his hand away.
"Hey, you still do that boxin' shit?"
I didn't respond, Blaine decided to cut in.
"That's a damn good question."
"I swear you used to be like a man, waaaay back when."
I sighed-then pushed past him to check on our order. Our food had been there and gotten cold-the worker simply shook her head as I got there.
"Can't hear anything over him, can you?"
"Not a damn thing..."
She laughed, and I took our tray back to the table-I sat it down in front of Blaine-then went back to take my seat-David blocked me. I sighed for a moment-just tired of his utterly obnoxious nature, and figured I'd go sit on Blaine's side. Naturally, I neglected to think it'd be that simple to deal with David's simple ass-as I turned, I moved directly into a hard punch which almost instantly collapsed my lungs. The only immediate sound competing with the impact of the blow was my voice as it drug out for a bit-I caught my balance with my back against a table-and it took me a second to pull some air back in. Even if only for a few seconds though, it hurt-and I realized there was a crowd on me now. I was gonna fucking hurt David, at this point-my patience was totally done.
"I'm not as much of a wimp as I used to be, right? I got a mean ass right now...right?" He laughed.
Blaine put his head down and covered his face-at least he knew better...
"So how about it?" David started, "quick friendly round?"
He jumped up, and threw some half assed punches around in the air-showing off his ridiculously pitiful form, and I took a tight southpaw stance-my guard tight, as he moved in, smiling to himself. He threw in a straight left, I swayed further left, just under it and threw a light left to his ribs-buckling his body-then I came up with a hard right hook, hitting him in the face and flatlining him, in one fluid motion. He banged his head on the corner of a booth on his way down-and I briefly considered kicking him-I decided not to make it an issue worth reporting to the police. Everyone was silent now, just being in the restaurant was likely to cause a call to the cops, so I walked out. On the way, I heard people asking David and Blaine if they should call the cops.
"FUCK! You're still a goddamn man-I swear..."
David held a Ziploc bag of ice on his immensely reddened cheek-courtesy of the restaurant.
"You don't wanna get hit don't hit."
"Hey, remember when we used to go to the gym?" Blaine cut in.
"Yeah..."
"You used to love boxing people didn't you? You were an unofficial champion of the ring."
"Nah, that one dude beat me...well...like a fuckin' man."
"He was a man, and you were 14." He laughed, "but seriously...we oughtta go back, got nothing better to do anyway right? I can watch you win a few, unless you wanna go back to the apartment-my marathon ain't over yet."
The gym still smelled of piss. The blue-gray boxing ring trembled under the weight of two bulky guys laying into eachother inside, and the walls were still peeling beige messes. It's all I saw the instant I stepped in really...the arena, and the walls surrounding it. The work out equipment didn't matter, not the people talking or anything. I was...not to sound dramatic, but BURNING to be in the ring. It was my favorite place to be really-and I had forgotten just how much I loved it until I was there again-looking at it. The thick ropes I used to back my foes against-that I would use to support myself when my knees buckled...even the pain I felt in that fucking square was passion for me. Total piss and passion...
"David, look at her-tell me that ain't one happy lookin chick!" They both laughed.
I was fucking daydreaming...damn. I hurriedly walked to the ring, and away from them, and watched the guys in the ring go at it. They were obviously friends-pulling punches...it was boring...actually kinda painful to watch. Upon closer inspection, they weren't friends...father and son. The boy was about my age-defined face...pretty damn toned-I'm sure most girls would think he was a babe...
They stopped after a while.
"Hey, look at that." The greying dad pointed at me, "We got a fan."
"Heeeeyyy I think we DO!" The 'babe' sounded like he never hit puberty.
"That actually looks like you guys were having fun-I was just wandering if I could have a go."
They looked at eachother-both obviously amused at the idea.
"Now I don't pull punches, little lady." The old man spoke.
"Actually you were pulling them the whole time just now. I can name like 3 occasions for the last 30 seconds..."
"Wow, you know your stuff, huh?" The boy spoke again-I simply nodded.
"You try her, I'm gonna hit the bench for a bit-then maybe do some squats. REMEMBER: you already have a girlfriend."
They laughed to eachother again-and the old man handed me his gloves, after grabbing his shirt and a towel, and going to the bathroom. As I put the gloves on, the 'babe' continued to mock me.
"Sure you can move in that?"
I was in a red tank top and black tripp pants-all the chains and spikes removed. The kind of thing you build an insane sweat in-I was looking forward to that feel though.
"We'll find out, right?" He laughed at my response.
"Hey, babe!"
A fairly thick girl on the punching bags came over to the ring-in a sports top and trunks-obviously into boxing as well. She had a helmet on, and black gloves suiting the rest of her outfit.
"I got a fight for ya! But take it easy on her, kay? She's pretty small..."
The girl didn't say a thing, just climbed into the ring-so I did the same thing. Her boy-toy started the fight-and just like that the world fell away. I had no mouthpiece, helmet or any protective equipment on whatsoever-but I was GOING to do this. My opponent looked just as determined as me.
She thrusted her arm out in a quick, light jab-and I met her fist with my own, a quick test of my reflexes-she repeated two more times, before she stepped in hard and swung a hard right hook that I swayed out of. She was solid-but her legs were weak, she had to throw her whole body into anything she did-her arms were fast, but her body was sluggish. She couldn't keep up with me. THIS...was why I hated fighting girls. Totally tactless with their physical ability.
She threw a hard straight left that I swayed right from-then she swung an awkward uppercut-almost making me eat my previous thought. In stepping back I felt my back against the ropes-and she saw her opportunity to rush in and slammed a hard uppercut into my stomach. It didn't even hurt, but I let myself clinch to her anyway, my arms wrapped high on her shoulders as if embraced to her-and I let her fire more shots into my midsection.
"Harder." I whispered in her ear-and I felt her body jump in response.
She slammed another as hard as she could into my stomach, one that I felt, as I staggered back to the ropes-and my stomach ached and pulsed with the feeling.
I only briefly savored the feel before she swung a haymaker with her all for my face-and against the rope-I ducked-and came up with a hard uppercut-she wasn't as solid as she looked-and I felt my fist slide deep inside of her and spittle all over my face. Her jaw was limp and her defenses dropped as she curled around my fist-and disgusted now, I swung my own haymaker a hard right which sent her spiraling straight to the mat.
"HOLY SHIT!" The boy-toy's outcry woke me out of my daze.
"So maybe now I can try you on for size?"
Time passed for a bit without his response-his girl helped herself out of the ring, eventually. He offered her no help-he was more busy sizing me up, if that was even what he was doing...
"Heh...alriiiight-but I'm not about to pull any punches..."
He took his shirt off to show off-he was a big guy, but nothing to Blaine-and from what I saw earlier his form was total shit. He was something impressive to his woman, and that was fine-I personally was taken neither with his appearance, or his nature. I leaned casually against the ropes, waiting for him to get in. Once in, he began stretching his arms and working his shoulders-like he was about to do a lot of hard work. He didn't put wear a helmet OR put in a mouthpiece-he still wasn't taking me too seriously. I waited for him to beckon with his glove-holding it out for me, and so when he did, I immediately made contact with his glove.
I threw a straight left in the instant he began pulling his glove away, and he staggered, caught off guard. He laughed a little to himself-but he was visibly annoyed-which was what I wanted.
As he stepped up again, point blank range from me-he threw a lazy straight back at my face-and I turned my neck a little-moving out of it, before hitting him with another hard, straight left right in the mouth-he gritted his teeth and threw another, with the same results.
He swung a hard right almost as quick as I hit him, and I ducked it just barely-then quickly dashed to his side as he tried to throw a straight where he thought he'd pinned me. As he turned, I hit him with another straight left-and jumped back as he swung a right with all he had-the instant his arm passed I leaned forward and hit him with a left jab again, and it felt almost as if he were looking at me in hatred...but I know that meant he was starting to take me seriously. He was too big not to take seriously at the same though.
He backed me into a corner-and swung a hard right-most of his arm catching the turnbuckle itself as I straightened myself right behind him. As he swung his body back around at me, growling-I ducked as I weaved forward, and slammed a hard right into his right side-he threw a left straight back down at me, and I weaved far left, his momentum ripped him forward, and I slammed another shot directly into his kidneys-I raised my arms, without much moving room to just take the next shot. His backhand sent me to the ropes to the right of me, not behind me-and before I had my balance back-I leaned out of a straight punch, and continued the backing motion as he swung another predictable backhand-I did NOT however, predict running again into the turnbuckle-and as soon as my back met that he flattened me against it-his fist digging upwards in my stomach and through any muscle-my feet potentially having left the ground. In the impact I heard my initial cry-the air being pushed through my vocal cords-then I heard the sigh when your lungs do the last emptying themselves-this was my fault, for not taking him seriously...
As I tried to double over-he came up with an uppercut throwing my body straight again-then a hook sent me staggering across the ropes-the instant I caught myself on the turnbuckle across from me, his glove slammed again dead center in my mid-section-but there was still no air to push out-just a whimper. He did it again-and I felt myself heave, quickly growing more nauseated-and for a moment my momentum was cut. He swung his right hand this time at the back of my head-and I used the moment to dodge out heading towards, and behind him. There's no room to savor the match with him trying to kill me, so I guess I'd have to wrap it up.
He turned towards me, and prepared to resume his rampage-and as he swung his right, I moved to the left, and forward as his momentum came towards me-then I sent a straight right into his face-as he staggered where I was. Upon swinging back again I swayed hard to the left-as he arm went over my head my fist went into the side of his, throwing him with his momentum to the floor.
With his body, his temper collapsed as well, and he slowly started laughing to himself, while I pressed into my upper belly, breathing slowly. My jaw felt unhinged and my head was spinning slightly-but that would pass as I adjusted to the slowing of my adrenaline. As my adrenaline died down, I began to feel the chill of being saturated in sweat. The 'boy toy' rolled over, flat on his back, and I kinda laughed to myself at this point, as well.
"Chick's not bad then, I take it?" The old man's voice rang clear as he came into view, a towel draped over his shoulder."
"She's somethin' else, pops." Who TALKS like that anymore?
The old man scrambled into the ring, and smacked his son upside the head.
"Lemme see your gloves, I gotta see this."
"Actually...can I get a few minutes? He got a few good ones in, I feel a bit sick..."
"So I know what's weak now-just keep working the body, huh?"
Truth be told, I wasn't interested in boxing the old fucker before he said that-not that I thought he'd suck, I just would rather...not box someone when I'd started to feel taxed from prior matches. But just the thought he was going to take this as seriously as I would made it seem so much more worth it, for me.
Gloves touched, then he raised his arm again, in the slow gesture of a punch-I met gloves with him quickly again. He threw a faint-leaving his arm lingering-and met his glove again, undaunted or swayed by his bluff.
Then I was totally caught off guard when he threw another bluff the same way, instead carrying his fist all the way around and catching me with a right hook-I staggered a few steps backward, then returned fire with a hook of my own, he swayed backwards on me, and I watched my own fist sail just before his nose without making contact-the old man simply pulls back in with a right straight, and I lean towards it, pulling to the right at the last moment-and pulling my whole body to the left as I bring my right straight for his face-with his momentum going, I was sure I had him-so my body was completely unbraced as I heard myself cry out when his left hand rammed the air from me again-and I fell on him to keep myself from collapsing for a moment.
"You're good...but two things-never forget your opponent's arms are longer than yours-and never assume they're right handed."
I'd just fallen against some of the most obvious principles in boxing...suffice to say I was disappointed in myself-but I didn't have room to be hard on myself, because I'd left myself open to anything he might do to stop my thoughts from flowing-and as he slammed into me again, my legs quit, and I collapsed to my knees and the fetal position, gasping. All of my adrenaline was shot, and I was sure I was close to puking-I couldn't even swallow the lump in my throat. I felt more scared of throwing up than embarrassed for the situation, and this was the first time this had ever happened to me.
This was just not my day-I've never had this kind of trouble dealing with people-I guess my time out of practice had made me rusty...
"Sorry, maybe we should call it a quits."
I didn't want that. It's about all I could say-not even on a reasonable level-but I didn't want it to end with me gasping on the floor like a little bitch-and somehow those words alone gave me the will to stand again. I still couldn't breathe-I still felt sick...
The old bastard fired a light jab at my gut again-and I shielded myself with both hands, irrationally petrified-he brought a straight left up and punched me right in the nose-then again with a right, sending me staggering-I was feeling lightheaded, but I hated the way it was going-I had to make an attempt. As he approached I threw a hard left he leaned out of-I made a quick dash for the right-anticipating his punch, which came as I expected-a hard left much like a clothesline that I went under-and swung a hard right, knocking the old man off balance-sending him staggering.
I still couldn't feel myself breathing-my waist was tight and the only thing I had going for me was a really warped sense of adrenaline.
Taking advantage of the momentum being on my side- I rushed in with another punch-one he ducked-and I pulled my body away as he shot his left towards it, throwing myself off balance as I realized it was another feint-and his uppercut connected-and I staggered back against the ropes-and held on. I wanted to know that I COULD touch him-in this condition I couldn't have beat him-but at my best, maybe...
He slammed a hard right in my stomach as I sat there against the ropes-and brought the world momentarily back into focus for me, and I fell forward-unable to stop myself. He caught me, and pushed me back against the ropes and fired two more shots off, the latter must've been with his all-it felt like my insides caught fire and I turned my body away. My legs buckled in the process, and I collapsed against the turnbuckle, realizing I had yet to breathe. My vision was shot, but I could hear the old man, thought he sounded distant.
"Damn, I really overdid it...sorry..."
His voice started to blur out, and I began to black out. The pain started going numb, and the last thing from the moment I recalled was a sharp inhale before losing consciousness. I had forgotten I'd even been with David and Blaine until I came to in the apartment, on the couch again.
It was cold-I was still in sweaty ass clothes. Trying to push aside thoughts of my new experiences, I immediately searched Matt's room where I left my bag-digging through my clothes for something to change into after I showered-it was almost 5, so in about two hours I'd be seeing Matt-I've never been so nervous to see him ever before-I'd almost entirely forgotten now that I had been beaten to the point of unconsciousness...
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