Remade

Chapter 13

Although I had gotten mad at Mason for A) participating in dangerous, prohibited fighting and B) ending up in the infirmary, I was itching to get into the arena. Have you ever felt like you're just overflowing with stored energy and feelings and just had to get it out? That's been basically me for the longest time, so if I could get it all out of my system and prove my skills at the same time, great.

Adanna and I have started having mock Spars, 3, 4, sometimes even 5 a day. She's grown even stronger but her confidence is paper thin. She'll dominate the first couple fights, but she'll slow down and let her thinking display across her face like a billboard.

"Stop thinking too much about it," I practically yell as I have her pinned to the floor. "If you think too much, they'll read you and pick out your weaknesses like that," and I drop my hold and Adanna slumps down, panting, as if to further emphasize my point.

"I do not think I can do this," she wheezes.

"Don't say that. Don't say that ever again or let others know you think it," I snap. "You aren't a black sheep, you're a ram, a strong, incredible Ram who can take on whatever challenge she lays her eyes on."

Adanna looks at me and gives me a tiny smile. "I think all rams are male..."

"You get the idea!!" I say, almost laughing.

She nods and sits up straight. "You are right. I am strong. I can do this."

"Heck yeah you can!" I practically pump my fist in the air.

"I am still nervous though. Many people I do not know will be there."

"Ah, not that many."

The Sparring system is very specific and thought out. The large, closed air, main building of the Arena is surrounded by various branches of rooms where you can specify in what you want to practice. The area we use is small, since fighting is not so encouraged and could turn us barbaric. It's about the size of a high school gym cut in half the long way. On one wall there is a small Jumbo Tron and the tunnels leading to the dim boiler/locker room, on the other there are the bleachers for the measured amount of spectators, and in the middle, the Sparring strip. Outside the Arena, on the main doors, is a list of each of the fighters and 5 blank spaces underneath their names. Although we aren't allowed to have people in our "corner" so to speak, the first 5 to sign up under your name can come witness the fight. Everybody mostly respects the spots so you don't get many strangers signing up under your name to see some fighting action. The fighters also can't know who signed up for them but I received notice that my 5 spots were taken. The only way I'd know who signed up for me is to see the 5 either in the stands if I can or at the rendezvous spot after the fight, in the main public area of the Arena. The fighters don't know who came to support them and the supporters don't know who their friend is up against. It's all very dramatic and suspenseful.

"I promise you that you'll be fine. You really think a lot of people will show up?

"Yes, many. You have 5 spots taken, yes?" Adanna asks.

"Yeah but they're just my friends, you have nothing to worry about," I reassure, ignoring the curiousity in my head about who took the 5th spot. "Just pretend the crowd isn't there and you'll be fine."

"I will try," Adanna says thoughtfully.

"Good. Now rest up this weekend," I say as I pat her on the back and then stand up. "We got a big day on Monday."

The weekend seems to fly by and next thing I know, it's Monday and the Spar room is full with people. So is the competitors' "lobby" underneath the room even if we're like 36 girls. Girls pace nervously or fiddle with their fingers or chatter to whoever is closest to them. Their nervousness and anxiety has a commanding presence that takes up so much room. I'm dressed in a tight black tank top and active leggings, with my dark hair in a high ponytail. Jewelry is prohibited while fighting so I wrap Mason's necklace around my ankle and cover it with my sock for good luck.

As soon as I walk in, I see Adanna sitting in the corner looking petrified. Anyone would confuse it for cool and collected but I know better. I make my way over to her and she puffs her cheeks and exhales.

"Hey, calm down, you'll be fine."

She stays quiet and looks around the room. I take a quick glance and I see Tiffany with Stephanie and the rest of their clique huddled together, chatting quietly, and shooting looks at Adanna.

"They bothering you?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

"Are you ever going to talk?"

She looks at me and she slowly shakes her head no. She is standing up straight as a ruler but as her arms hang down and you get to her hands, you see they're stiffly in fists so tight her knuckles are white and her hands are shaking. She really is nervous.

"Okay. That's alright..." I say understandingly as the 6 TVs in the room come to life. We see Sparring room, its crowd of people, the strip, and the Jumbo Tron announcing the first fight.

"Charlie Cruz vs. Cass Seymour."

Everyone turns to one of the girls. I turn to Charlie because she's the one I think will win. She stands up and looks over at Cass. Cass, surrounded by her girlfriends, looks at her coldly and makes her way to her tunnel entrance. At the last second though, she turns her head and mouths "Good luck." Charlie nods in response and the two girls disappear into the tunnel that leads to the arena.

We all focus our attention back to the screens. Adanna has her eyes glued to the nearest one. "How come it all look so... big?" she asks. "So big and loud..."

I open my mouth to say something reassuring but I'm interrupted.

DING! DING!

Sergeant Williams, Cass, and Charlie all walk out from the left, center, and right tunnels. Williams is wearing a grey striped referee shirt and a whistle but no hat. He motions to the two girls, and as they shake hands he says a rapid fire string of instructions. The two girls nod, assume their positions, and the bell goes off again.

Everything happens fast. As the girls pounce, the Jumbo screen immediately changes to the name and face of each contestant and there are three grey bubbles next to each one of them. When the bubbles turn silver, it means they win the round, I hear a girl near me saying. Best two out of three, easy. Win with a knockout, they all turn gold and it's remembered.

The two girls are going at it, ignoring the three sets of bolas on either edges of the strip, preferring direct hand-to-hand combat. Everybody here is cheering, screaming, coaching as if the two could hear them. The crowd is doing the same except they have the luxury of seeing it in person. Adanna and I stay quiet, analyzing. Charlie is strong, more experienced. She doesn't make the same mistakes Cass does but Cass is faster. It seems they're actually pretty evenly matched. However, speed doesn't guarantee a win. Cass will get a few punches in but Carly will pin her for about 5 seconds at a time, causing the percentage bar on the Jumbo to fill up more towards her side than Cass's.

After two rounds, Charlie is declared winner and Williams blows his whistle and says over the speaker "Winner: CHARLIE CRUZ!" and he holds up her hand in victory. She grins, taking in the applause. She looks at the Jumbo Tron where her victory is also announced and underneath a glorious image of her face with a big WINNER underneath it and terrible graphics of floating confetti (you'd think the graphics would look better. Thanks James) and underneath it says: "Up next! June Gates vs. Bridget Walls."

Adanna gasps and I feel my face tighten to keep cool and collected. I look at her and say, "Don't worry, it'll be fun." She just stares at me as I reach up and tighten my ponytail.