13 Shades of Grey

A Bet of Sorts

Disclaimer: Beyblade, the idea of the spinny-tops, and all related indicia, belong to Takao Aomi. Amber is courtesy of Zadien, whilst I own Arista.

-----

"I am the best hockey player this school has ever had the displeasure of confining." Amber said grinning.

Her small mouth was curved into a grin, her tawny eyes dancing with laughter. Her rounded face was held high while her chin jutted out to prove her point. Her skin was a bonze colour because she was Irish and spent many a days outside. Her ebony hair had parts streaked with gold, glossy in the warm breeze outside while the sun shone down on her. She was dressed in the school's outfit, a navy tartan skirt with a white button-up shirt. Her black blazer was tied around her small waist as she walked comfortably along the school grounds. Her socks were pushed down to her ankles to be enclosed by her century old sneakers.

Arista grinned back at her, eyes glittering merrily. "Not likely, I'm much better and an all-around better person," she added for a laugh and a half.

Her face was accentuated by her peaches and cream complexion, marred by rare flecks and the shadows of her silver hair which fell over her forehead, spilled around her shoulders, ending with gold tips two inches past her shoulders. She stood a bit taller than her companion, clad in the same school outfit. Her socks were also lowered to gather at her ankles while she wore black and red skate shoes. The plaid skirt went to just below her kneecaps, the top button on her shirt undone due to the warmth of the weather. Her navy orbs were flecked with sprinkles of amber.

"Says who?" The ochre eyed teen shot back inquiringly.

"I do." The silver haired female replied in a likely arrogant fashion, mimicking her friends tone.

They exchanged looks before stopping promptly to laugh before continuing on their journey to the school doors.

"Actually, you would both be mistaken. I am the best hockey player in this pathetic excuse for a school."

The two turned around to be faced with the moss-green eyes and striking ginger hair of none other than Brooklyn Adams.

"What a pleasant surprise." Amber faked alacrity.

"Would you like to prove that?" Arista's eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.

His face was clear of any freckles, which bothered Arista to no end. He was a red-head, by law he should have freckles. It was the same with Johnny though, he was a red-head and he had no freckles either. Absently, she wondered why that was.

Brooklyn's pale blue eyes looked from the Russian to the Irishwoman and he rolled his eyes. His almost pure white skin was soft and perfect. His lips curved into the slightest of smirks.

"Any day, Belle."

"Huh?" She was snapped out of her reverie. "You're on! Today, right now, right here. I bet that you can't beat me at one-on-one hockey match."

Brooklyn nodded to assure her that he'd accepted, before continuing his tirade to ruin the two girls' day. "But, the loser has to be the winners slave for... Two weeks."

He watched in satisfaction as he got her riled up. Amber shook her head knowing the other girl wouldn't back down.

Arista's mouth opened and closed like a fish. That meant that she had to everything he told her to do, and for thirteen days?

If I lose, I'm making a bet that's worse than going to hell and back. But if I don't accept, then his already over-sized head will get even bigger.

"So what's it going to be, Belle?" He asked somewhat impatiently.

"Stop calling me that, and no way I'm going to lose to you."

"Okay then. But we have to have it later, when there are witnesses."

"Why? You want to lose around people? I thought you'd rather when no one was around so that you won't get embarrassed." A small smirk flittered across Arista's mouth.

"That's what you think. I want witnesses around so that when you lose, everyone will know it."

"Not going to happen, Mr. I-think-I'm-the-best-but-really-am-not!" Amber quipped dryly.

He gave a gallic shrug before responding. "Just be there."

And with that he turned around and walked away.

"'Ris, you know that if you lose, he's going to boss you around for two weeks?" Amber spoke slowly.

"I thought you were my friend. Be a little more supportive, why don't you?"

"Yeah. But still, he is a good player. Even if he's a total dick-wad."

"I don't plan on losing anytime soon, Ams. I've got a game plan, it's all up here in my noodle." Arista tapped her head with her index finger to elucidate her point.

At least, I hope I won't lose...

--

"He shoots-" Brooklyn waited for the puck to go into the net "-and he scores!"

Time stood still for Arista as she watched the puck glide on the smooth ice, straight into the net.

First she was shocked, then as she slowly processed the fact that he had won; she gave out a cry of frustration.

"Cheater! I demand a re-match!"

"Okay. But just to make it fair, let's raise the stakes a little... The winner, which is obviously going to be me again, will get to boss the loser, which is going to be you again, around for two weeks, and-" Brooklyn paused here to think about what he could possibly add to make her life more of a terror, "-the loser, namely you, will also have to subject themselves to volunteering for cafeteria duties for a week."

"WHAT?" Arista's exaggerated facial features and her louder than normal voice did little to hide her shock.

The large crowd that had gathered 'oohed' and 'awed' at his bold statement. They now looked over to Arista, waiting for her reaction.

Idiots, she thought with a groan as they watched her intently.

"WHAT?" She repeated again. "What do you mean volunteer? Are you mad, Adams?"

"I meant what I said. When you lose again, you'll have to help with lunch duties." He spoke slowly, as if talking to an eight-year-old. "Unless you're afraid you'll lose... Again." He added for good measure because he knew it would irritate her.

She glared as he taunted her, leaning on his black hockey stick.

"In your dreams. You just watch, I'm not going to lose. First one to score five goals wins."

"Sure thing Belle."

She gritted her teeth and skated over to the centre. Brooklyn skated in pursuit. Amber was already there, waiting for them. She blew a whistle, and dropped the puck, purposely dropping it closer to her Russian friend.

The black circular disc fell onto the ice with a dull thud. Arista, being the quicker of the two, already had the puck and was skating towards the left end of the icy field.

Brooklyn wasted no time in going after her. Just as she was about to shoot, he snatched at the puck with his stick, and glided around at the back of the net.

"You want it?" He waited for her reaction. She glared at him challengingly. "Then come and get it."

She charged around the right side of the net, but he had skated out from the left. She mentally slapped herself.

He looked behind him and saw her angry expression.

Smirking he slowed down as he neared the net, and shot the puck slowly, wanting to prove to her that he was the better of the two.

He knew how to get her worked up. This was too easy.

--

"No!" Arista yelled as Brooklyn scored his fifth goal.

"No, no, no, no, no. NO!"

"Actually, it's more like yes, yes, yes, yes, and what was it again? Yes!"

"Go fuck yourself." She said through gritted teeth.

"So unlady-like." He mocked her, enjoying her misery.

She gave another cry of anger then slowly skulked off, ignoring him, and the crowd.

All she could think about was the fact that she had lost! And to an ego bigger than the size of the Himalayas, or even Mount Everest in this case. The mere thought of it sent dreadful shivers down her spine.

"I swear I'll get you back for this, Adams!" She yelled aloud to no one in particular.