Fear Her Wrath II: Crucible of Glass

Chapter 39

No news leads, despite our best efforts. This was always the worst. Waiting. Knowing that Deadstream had a plan, and we didn't know it. Because Dad had canceled my membership at the fight gym as part of my punishment for beating up Gennifer, my only chance to work out my frustration was after school sparring with Benedict. My bruises were starting to feel a little better, and I'd cut back on pain medicine accordingly. In other words, I was close enough to peak form to keep Benedict on his toes—or maybe on his face.

"Somebody looks tired," said Benedict as he straightened the wrestling mats on the floor of the school gym.

"Gee, I wonder why that could be?" I said, rolling my eyes.

"Still no luck?"

I paused in the middle of unlacing my shoes.

"Do I look like I've had any luck?"

"Well, you get to hang out with me," said Ben, flashing his winning smile.

"Sorry I don't consider hanging out with the most arrogant guy in school a fair tradeoff for a child being murdered."

I was being unusually short with Ben, but if my mood was bothering him, he didn't show it. Without any further bickering, we changed into our sparring clothes, finished our stretches, and took our usual positions opposite each other on the wrestling mats.

"So, what is the vigilante practicing today?" asked Ben as he rolled his shoulders.

"Grappling," I said, taking my eyes off his biceps. "And my ribs and nose are fine, so don't you dare hold back."

"I wasn't even considering it," said Ben with a smirk.

He was holding back. Again. Sometimes, you get to put the arrogant jerk in their place, and this was one of those times.

"Maybe I'm the one who should be going to the Olympics," I said as I held Benedict down in a pin.

"I don't have to fight girls at the Olym—oww!"

I twisted his arm a little. It was always fun to toy with him like this.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It's just that it's different... psychologically," he said through gritted teeth.

"Really?"

I increased the pressure on his arm.

"Yeah. When you're fighting a guy, all you're thinking is 'how do I get this guy to hit the mat before I do?' With a girl, it's more... complicated."

"So you can't fight a girl without undressing her in your head. That's not an advantage."

"Of course, it depends on the girl."

He rolled suddenly to the left, breaking free of my grip. We both scrambled to our feet and started circling each other.

"And what does that mean?" I asked warily.

He went for my right forearm, but missed. We continued to circle the wrestling mats, sizing each other up—or maybe checking each other out. It felt kinda like the same thing at the moment.

"Just that some girls are more distracting than others," said Ben.

"So I'm distracting, huh? You really know how to compliment a girl."

He made another grab for my wrist, and this time I saw it coming. Catching him by the arm, I threw him to the ground for a second time. I was on him before he'd realized what had happened.

"You know, if you were less of a pig, you might not be losing to the girl you just started training six months ago."

"What can I say, Maggs? I'm a great teacher."