You guys are awesome as usual! Sorry, I just started back at college so updates might have a slightly longer wait, but I'll do my best. Feel free to express yourself through questions, comments, and concerns. Tate belongs to me. Enjoy.
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I whipped my long brown hair up in a ponytail, tightening it with extra strength.
You know what they say…A strong ponytail leads straight to a strong mind.
Heh.
God knows the last thing I needed was for it to fall out.
Straightening my white wifebeater, I observed myself in the mirror, feeling ready for battle.
For war.
I was all decked out in workout clothes: tank top, shorts, awesome neon blue tennis shoes…
I had it going on, yo.
Word.
Okay, I'm stopping.
Practicing my sneering face, I curled my lip in the mirror. "Hey, the name's Tate, and I'm gonna kick your ass, bitch."
Epic, yeah?
Immediately, that brought on rounds of laughter. And more until…
A knock on my door.
"Tate?" Rouge's voice called out. "You ready yet? It's time."
Always punctual, that one.
"Coming!" I gave myself one last look in the mirror and winked for confidence. It came out looking like one of my eyes was having a seizure. Maybe my eyes were epileptic.
I gave up on winking. It was a lost cause.
Rushing now, I barged through the door to find a suited-up Rouge, clad in a black velour tracksuit with matching gloves. She was also wearing a Yankees baseball hat. Classy.
"You remember what we talked about?" She asked, as we started to walk together towards the entrance of the school. Kids darted out of our way as we strode forward. "The moves we went over, the strategies we put in place?"
"I remember, Rouge." I swished my ponytail as we walked, feeling superior to all those who were without awesome hairstyles. They were clearly missing out. "We trained nonstop for the past three days, how could I forget?"
"Just checkin'." She adjusted her hat in anticipation. The front door was in sight.
"By the way," I chimed as we neared our destination. "You're a brilliant coach. Just thought I'd let you know."
She smiled widely back at me. "Thanks, sugar. I did my best. You were a great too, as well, grasshopper."
"You're only older than me by five months! Why am I a grasshopper?"
"It's a sensei-thing." She shrugged. "You don't understand. Besides, we'll technically be the same age in a few days since it's your birthday."
I grinned widely. "I know."
We reached the door and stopped. Rouge turned to me, deadly serious.
"Do you recall Plan X that we talked about?" She said.
"Yes…" I grimaced, thinking of the plan. "But I'm not going to need it. I'm strong enough."
She raised an eyebrow. "It's your last resort, Tate. Just know that it's there to use. You can pull it off if you really try."
"Fine." I said and then faced the wood paneled doors. "I'm ready."
My best friend grinned and hugged me tightly, breaking her coach persona for a second. "I love you, and I believe in you. You're going to kick his ass. Now go get'm, tiger!"
The doors opened…and we were out!
Instantly, the large green front lawn practically blinded us upon arrival. The day was bright, sunny, and expectant. I smelled winning in my future.
Yay.
A crowd of students was already gathered in the green, surrounding a crudely drawn-up circle in the middle. Excitement was in the air. My marks were happy and pumped up.
I like to think that they were dancing a jig right now.
Well, according to their jig, it was an abnormally warm seventy-two degrees with clear skies, approximately four-hundred and ten feet above sea level, a noise level of sixty decibels, and a time of 12:57 P.M.
A familiar scent was in the air. My head jerked toward it.
And in my sight was my rival, my nemesis, my challenger.
Victor Creed.
He was stretching over about one-hundred feet away, wearing almost an identical outfit to mine. Wifebeater, basketball shorts, and tennis shoes.
Except his wifebeater was black.
Figures.
He smirked tauntingly at me across the field. And I swear he winked.
I want to be able to wink, darn it!
Full of energy, I walked towards the ring, brushing through the crowd of mutants, and stepped inside. Victor, likewise, had made for the ring and entered at the opposite end.
It was on.
"You ready for this, Stripes?" He mocked, flexing his muscles in plain sight. I caught a glimpse of his scar. "Because I don't think you can take me."
"Really, Creed?" I sneered. "How'd you get that scar on your throat?"
The crowd 'ooohh-ed' in response. Cool.
"How'd you get yours?" He growled back, bristling. He was shifting side to side in anticipation.
"Kid." A gruff voice spoke. I turned to see Logan, still dressed in his trademark jacket despite the warm weather. "Just remember his weakness. You'll do fine." He put his hand on my shoulder comfortingly.
I smiled back at him. "Thanks, Logan—"
"Don't touch her, Jimmy." Victor's snarl carried ominously. "She's mine."
"No." I shrugged Logan off and turned back to face my opponent in the ring. "You're all mine, Creed."
Victor grinned with fangs in return. He was out for blood.
The bell dinged, signaling the start of the round.
Here goes round one.
I suppose I should explain.
The day after I'd spilled my guts to Creed, he'd been bugging me constantly, just doing random, idiotic things. Things like getting real close and whispering in my ear, like wrapping his arms around me sporadically, like playing with my hair.
Annoyed, I'd finally had enough when he nipped my ear in front of the whole cafeteria at lunch.
So what did I do? I issued a challenge.
More specifically, I issued a challenge that I could whoop his ass in fighting. He accepted, of course, with a smug smirk on his face. The whole cafeteria heard this, and, naturally, spread word all over the school, escalating it into a big event.
One that everyone was waiting for. I even heard some teachers were betting on us.
Logan told me personally before that he put money on me. No pressure.
None whatsoever.
There were three rounds, winner of best two out of three won the challenge.
I was pumped. Rouge and I had been training for this for the past three day. Hard core training.
I, Tate, girl made of marks, half feral, was ready.
I would so beat Creed's ass.
So, as I was saying, the bell dinged.
First round here we go.
I jumped on the balls of my feet, bouncing. Waiting for his strike.
Creed smirked amusedly at my jitters, and lunged to the left, feinting at the last second, and then headed for my right side.
Luckily, my instincts had informed me of his plot. My right struck out just as he came upon me and hit him straight in the solar plexus. Victor huffed, losing air, but still managed to barrel into me through mere force.
We both went down, and I used his windedness to my advantage by staying on top. I quickly put my hands around his throat, trying to strangle him. The round would end when one of us was down for a count of three.
"One…Two…" I gritted out, trying to hold him down. "Th—
He threw me off, tossing me to the side, as he leapt up.
"It's not going to be that easy, babe." He grinned. I leapt up as well, keeping a good eye on him.
Darn! I almost had had him!
I darted to his right side for a kick. My leg went flying out and then…
Was caught by a smug Victor himself.
Crap.
"And that was your first mistake." Victor whispered, wrapping his fingers tightly around my foot. My bones felt like they were going to crack.
With a wink, he whipped me into the air and slammed me face down into the grass. My nose had broken, and all the bones in my body rattled from the impact.
I attempted to get up shakily, but Creed's foot was pressed firmly on my back, keeping me down.
"One…Two…" He crossed his arms snarkily as I wriggled beneath his foot. "Three."
The bell dinged. Round one was over. The crowd was screaming, some in support, some in 'booing' and some just to scream.
Victor was the winner. Of this round, at least.
I groaned into the grass, letting it muffle my frustration. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
A hand dragged me up by the back of my shirt, pulling me up straight.
"You can still give up, you know." Victor offered sneeringly, as if he was being generous. "You'd be saving yourself some pain. Besides, we all know who's the stronger one of us anyway. Everyone knows who wears the pants in this relationship, Stripes."
I growled angrily as my nose healed with a crack. Blood was coating my face. "Never."
Creed smiled sadistically in response, taking a finger to wipe some blood off of me. "Good. I like it better when you fight." He put the bloody finger in his mouth to suck it off. "But I can already taste victory."
"Go screw yourself!" I spat, yanking myself out of his grip. I started to walk to my designated side of the ring.
"I'd much rather like you to." I heard Victor murmured. I refused to turn around and give him a reaction.
But inside, I was hissing mad. My feral side was now in control.
We stood at our separate sides, waiting for the bell. I caught Logan out of the side of my eye looking concerned. He wouldn't have to anymore. Not after this round.
The bell dinged. Round two had begun.
I didn't waste a second, and I sprang into action, sprinting towards Victor. Anticipating my attack, he ran toward me as well, his fangs apparent. We were one second away from hitting each other when I slid to the ground, knocking his feet out from him.
Creed fell, and landed hard, straight onto his face.
See how that feels!
Quickly, I jumped up and straddled his back, punching him in the face as hard as I could. He roared and sprang up, but I hung on with one hand as he attempted to throw me off.
My other hand was clamped around his neck, feeling the vertebrate. Victor swung to the side, catching one of my legs, but I'd hooked the other one around him.
Trying to stay as steady as possible, I grabbed his neck with both of my hands and jerked violently to the side to hear a loud snap. Creed collapsed instantly, and I hopped off of him daintily.
"One…Two…Three." I said happily.
I'd just broken Victor Creed's neck.
He was not going to be a happy camper when he woke up.
The bell dinged. I was the winner of this round.
Victor came to with a twitch. Groaning, he sat up and cracked his neck back into place.
And that's when he spotted me. Cue the murderous glare.
Playtime was over.
"Have a nice nap?" I asked him, putting my hand on my hip over in my corner.
He merely snarled in response, crouching down into a pounce. I had really made him mad.
Good. He'd make more mistakes that way.
Hopefully.
The bell dinged for the start of the third and final round. Whoever won this, won the whole challenge. They would be the victor.
No pun intended. Victor would not be the victor.
I'd see to that.
We circled each other wearily, trying to judge and predict what the other would. Victor eyeballed my stance that mimicked his own. He bared his teeth slowly; it wasn't even a smile, it was a warning of what was to come.
My marks raced in anticipation.
Without warning, Victor dropped to all fours and tackled me in the chest, pushing his claws into me. Impaling me.
And let me tell you, impaling hurts. Friends don't impale friends.
Fortunately, this rule was not broken, seeing as Creed and I weren't friends. We were something different. More vivid.
I crashed to the ground with a growling Victor on top of me, and I managed to fit my legs between our chests. Then I pushed out, pushing Creed off of me and his claws out of me.
It hurt like hell.
Moaning, I slowly straightened up to find a large fist flying towards me. I quickly blocked it, but skid backwards from the impact. In return, I fired out a kick to his shins which didn't even make him flinch.
Stupid high pain threshold.
He slashed out with claws fully extended. I dodged to the side, but his other hand had come up and sliced my outstretched hand. I hissed and sent a punch that cracked his own nose, causing it to bleed into his mouth.
Victor didn't stop. I had pushed him too far. He was too far gone.
A well-placed kick threw me off my feet, and I crumpled to the ground in surprise. Quickly, before he could pounce again, I vaulted back to my feet and backed away to my side.
I needed to strategize.
Victor glared at me with an animalistic look. Breathing heavily, he tore off his shirt as if it were annoying him. His chest was glistening with sweat.
It was hard to look away. This so wasn't fair.
I frowned to myself. Might as well fight fire with fire.
Thinking this thought repeatedly, I took off my own wifebeater, revealing my black sports bra underneath. If I was distracted, so would he.
Fairness. Don't you love it?
His eyes were raking over me, and I knew that he was definitely distracted. It made me feel slightly self-conscious but…pleased?
Shaking my head, I cleared all thoughts and got my head back into the game. My mind was wandering to Plan X. I wondered if I should use it.
Aw, what the heck. Why not?
Stalking closer to Victor, his eyes stayed glued on my body.
Honestly, I don't know what he was staring at. I felt sweaty and gross, but to each his own.
Creed tensed as I got closer, and swung out a clawed hand when I got in range. Luckily for me, I caught it.
Turning it over, with my eyes locked on his, I lowered my face and kissed his palm gently.
Victor froze.
Slowly, I kissed each and every one of his five fingertips, and then I crept closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
His eyes were wide with shock as I leaned my head up to his. His head started to lower. We were only a couple inches away.
Now.
I headbutted Victor with all the strength I could muster. He fell over, dazed, and I kicked him in the chest, making him fly backwards. I went over to his body.
"One." I said, stomping on his arm, breaking it. "Two." I stepped on his fingers, hearing many pops. Victor groaned, almost coming to. "And three." I smirked down at him.
The bell dinged for the final time. I had won.
I had won! I was the winner of the challenge!
The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and I could see Rouge and Logan roaring in approval at the front. A warm feeling bloomed in my chest.
At the sound of several pops, I looked down to see Victor's angry eyes looking back up at me.
I narrowed my own. "So who wears the pants in the relationship, I wonder?" I held out a hand to help him up.
He ignored it and rose to his feet on his own, glaring at me.
"Don't be a sore loser." I said, smirking. "You're just mad that you didn't win fair and square."
A low growl rose in his throat. "Oh, I wouldn't say you won fair, Stripes."
"You're just angry that you didn't think of it yourself." I puffed up proudly. "And technically, this was Rouge's idea. So two girls bested you today."
Victor started to shake, probably in fury. He started to turn away.
"Victor…" I rolled my eyes. "Don't be a big baby."
I reached for his arm, which he jerked away quickly.
"Don't." He growled. "Touch me."
I sighed. His pride had been hurt too much by this challenge.
Men.
Still sighing, I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. He stiffened at the contact at first then loosed up, wrapping his own arms around me. Our scents mingled.
Everything felt…right.
I wasn't willing to admit that. Ever.
We slowly separated, looking each other in the eye.
"Now." I grinned. "Are you ready to congratulate the winner on her awesomeness yet?"
"Something like that." He murmured, and then I was somehow put into a fireman's hold over his shoulder and screaming. He walked in the opposite direction from the crowd.
"Viiiiiiictorrrr! My fans!"
"Screw your fans; you have me."
"I hate you!"
"No, you don't."
Somehow I couldn't respond to that comment.
And that's how I ended up beating on his back the whole way back to the mansion.
