A/N: Warning genderbent Myka. Tell me what you think. Rating may change eventually
"Micah Othello Bering, you get down here immediately." My father bellowed up the stairs.
I clattered down quickly, standing at attention in front of him. "Sir?"
"I'm disappointed in you son." His face twisted into a grimace, and my heart sank. "Dancing? You didn't embarrass me enough with the gymnastics, you had to take up dancing? What kind of electives are those. I thought you said you'd go into wrestling or boxing at the least."
"I just, I don't know I thought it would be interesting. It's still a competitive sport." I mumbled, trying to shrug off the hurt.
"Sport? You're dancing in circles. You don't get into college with this kind of crap Micah."
"I'm not changing dad. Mom supports me, and…"
"And?" He raised an eyebrow.
"And I enjoy it." I snapped, turning on my heels and stomping upstairs.
"Where do you think you're going?" He yelled.
"The gym. I have a meet next week remember?" I replied scathingly, "You know, that other bit where I fail as a human being." I took a stand at the head of the stairs, "If you wanted girls so much then why did you name it 'Bering and Son's'?" I snapped.
"Because all I got were you and your brother." His words cut me deep. They always did. I didn't bother saying anything in return. I was too chicken to ever point out that he loved my little brother and doted on him. The star of the football team, prom king, dating the hottest girl. Tyson got everything handed to him on a platter. Why does he get all the praise?
I grabbed my bag of equipment and clattered down the stairs too quickly for my father to get on my case about anything more. I tossed my stuff into the back of my truck and started the old girl up. We got on the road and the tension in my shoulders finally started to dissipate with the growing distance from my father.
Plastic coated foam smashed into my face yet again and I tapped out far quicker than my opponent would have liked. Wrestling may very well be the worst thing on the whole planet. Our phys ed teacher had a very broad perspective, stating that we should all try every single sport at least once in our high-school careers. Personally I don't give a rat's backside about all these other sports. I just want to be a gymnast.
The dainty sound of someone clapping mixed with the various sounds of working out as I was pinned for the fifth time in as many minutes. "So you can climb the rope with only your arms, and you can tumble around like an acrobat, but you can't wrestle?" The arrogant tones of everyone's favorite smartass filled my ears.
"Go screw a pole Helena. I'd rather that than hear you teasing me all day." The brit laughed at me and I couldn't help but growl in the back of my throat. Helena had been a thorn in my side since she and her dumbass brother had moved here from England. She always had on this perfect ensemble that had all the guys staring at her while she stabbed them in the back.
She clucked at me and offered me a hand which I refused. "Oh come now Micah do be reasonable. I'm simply astounded that you can display such physical prowess and yet be unable to best an overweight garbage disposal."
"Hey!" Pete and I shouted at the same time. I got to my feet prepared to kill the little chit when coach Stanton called us, "Bering! Lattimer! You're done with wrestling today, get your butts over to weights!" Yeah sure, more like she's protecting precious Ms. Wells. God I wish I could hit a girl.
"Cool it Micah, HG will get her comeuppance some day, and then we can both laugh about it. I bet you Vice Principal Nielsen figures out a way to give her detention. You should have seen the fit he was throwing about her arrival." Pete started to giggle as he sat down at the bench to do curls. "My mom almost threw him out of the meeting."
I got on the floor and started doing push-ups, they built up more of the muscles I actually needed. "Oh yeah, I forgot your mom was on the school board. Think we could get Helena expelled or something?" I raised my eyebrows at him. I knew Pete disliked HG even more than I did. He got these weird vibe things about people all the time and so he hadn't liked her on the spot. My dislike of her started right after she dropped Jimmy MacPherson so hard he actually transferred schools. I didn't like the slimy bastard, but no one should have to deal with someone as ruthless as that.
"See… That right there is the reason why no one gives a crap about how nasty she is." Pete said, staring across the gym with an awestruck expression. I glanced up for a few moments and rolled my eyes. Helena had the attention of most the room as she stepped onto the wrestling mat. I pity the poor sap who got stuck with her. Even if they could keep their head around a girl with that many snarky remarks, Helena was a walking talking weapon and anyone who had seen her running on the track after school knew it.
Helena's favorite running attire was a sports bra and mini shorts. Not exactly the most modest, but it illustrated things that I thought only gymnasts had. A four pack, which for a girl is damn impressive, biceps that flexed with each swing of her arms, and the hottest legs on any of the girls in Denver I swear.
Girls like Helena were nothing but trouble. "Shut your mouth before you start catching flies Pete, she's not your type." I returned to staring at the floor.
"You're right, she's yours." Pete teased.
I jerked my head up to stare at him, "What? What are you on? Lattimer you've been staring at that girl's butt way too much. It's turned you into a zombie."
"Methinks someone is protesting too much." Pete replied in his lofty drama voice. Seriously, what kind of person has a special voice just for saying things in a manner reminiscent of shakespeare. Just Pete really.
"Methinks you're going to get pounded by both of us if you don't stop." I replied. I huffed slightly and moved into a handstand to continue my push-up routine. I had been slipping on the bars too much recently, maybe the extra muscle would help my grip.
"Well if the Mob wants it, it's gonna happen whether I tease you or not." He laughed at his own joke.
"Seriously? That got old after 3rd grade." I wished I could glare at him but knowing Pete he would ignore it anyway. I did get a nice view of Helena's fight. She was messing around with the other girl. Helena was grinning from ear to ear with this evil glint in her eye as she circled the panting girl, Amanda. Now Amanda is no wimp, but no one stood up against Helena. It just didn't happen.
Amanda shook out her shoulders and took a swing at Helena's head. I cringed, knowing how this would go. Helena leaned back, pushed Amanda's arm away with her forearm. Her arm slid down and around Amanda's until Amanda's bicep was hugged in Helena's elbow, and Helena's palm was on her shoulder blade. Helena lifted a kneecap and pressed it down on Amanda's back, sending them both to the floor with Helena kneeling on Amanda. The lack of screaming was how you knew Helena had shifted to use her whole shin instead of just her knee. Damn that girl is brutal.
Amanda let out a huff, and a groan upon impact and everyone clapped for Helena. Pete and I as one moved to go check on Amanda. The last person to underestimate Helena Wells was James MacPherson, and everyone knows how that went. Wells looked down at the two of us helping Amanda sit up and the disgust on her face was only surpassed by the rage in her eyes. She turned away and stalked to the changing rooms a good 20 minutes before the end of period. One of these days I'm going to put you in your place Wells.