Six Things Before Breakfast

7

It's Tuesday. Maxon is jogging next to him. "What happened to Cal's date? I was too afraid to ask her. Did it go well?"

Sanders looks ahead. "None of your business."

"Cal is my business. She's my friend. She's like a little sister."

Sanders can't be bothered to be so irritated early in the fucking morning. He sighs and says, "He was an asshole. She cried. I made her feel better. She's good now. She broke their side mirrors, so they're not going near her again. Happy?"

Maxon smiles. "Yeah. Come on."

*

Becks texts him just as afternoon training ends. Sanders's team won. Obviously. Where are you

Courts, babe. Why? U done?

Yes, and I'm in need of food :^(

Sanders smiles. What the fuck kind of emoji is that I'm scared

I-i just added a nose :^(

Sanders laughs. He laughs and types his response. Ah, you're so fucking cute. Come meet me in the courts, I'm too tired to go to you

K >:^(

What is that

Now it's an angry emoji with a nose

Sanders laughs again.

Becks has food in her mouth when she tells Sanders, "I have a match next week. And you need to come watch."

Sanders's grin fades. He bites his lip. "Uh, I'm...busy that day. I'm having an arm wrestling competition with Rosen. It's important. He's the defending champion."

Becks doesn't look impressed. She has rice in between her teeth. "You're a loser."

"I love it when you flirt with me."

She rolls her eyes. "I'll text you the details. Don't bring Siam. I think it's going to be a difficult one."

Sanders drops his act. He sighs and purses his lips. "I don't like going to your matches."

Because once Becks is in the ring, she's going to do everything to win. She doesn't care if she's hurt, or if she's fighting with one eye closed or one leg broken. Becks has lost. She's lost matches. The first time she went inside the ring, she lost, and then she cried afterwards, but Sanders looked at the red gashes on her knuckles and the bruises on her face and thought that the opponent looked just as bad. But once Becks is in the ring, there's no—there's no stopping her. Sanders has gone to every single one of her matches. It doesn't mean he can bear watching her get hurt—she never gets out of it unscathed.

"But you'll go anyway," his best friend says, chewing loudly. "You always do."

So Sanders doesn't have a choice. "Please do that TKO thing again," he says. "You ended the match in a minute and nine seconds. I would like that again. I cannot bear to watch several rounds, two minutes each, of you getting beat up. Also, can I bring Rosen?"

"I got a lucky hit that time," Becks says. "Yeah, bring him. Adan's watching, too."

"Oh, good, they might start doing porn or something next to me."

Becks snorts. "Are you going to eat your lettuce?"

On the day of the match (Sanders and Rosen decided to reschedule their arm wrestling competition, it can wait), Sanders is nervous. He's more nervous than Becks. Maxon can see it. "Dude, are you okay?"