Dollface sighed, exiting the counselor's office after being scolded by Mz. Z and her assigned principal, a strange Italianate man with…. A woman's haircut?

Either way, the first week of school hadn't even started yet, and she was already up to her ass in trouble.

"Dude!"

"WOAH!" Dollface stumbled, tackled by the surprisingly sturdy Marcus outside of the massive dining hall that housed all the bureaucratic offices.

"You should join wrestling! We need more girls!"

Dollface stared incredulously at Marcus as he bounced, the other strange teens expectantly looking over his shoulder at Dollface, "How heavy are you?"

Dollface looked Markus up and down, "You have a girl's league?"

"Yes, we do. What's your weight?"

Dollface and company turned to the porch where Mz. Zee had snuck past Miss Martel for her smoke break.

"Coach! Coach!" Markus grinned, grabbing Dollface's delicate hands, "Whaddya think?"

Mz. Zee took a long drag on her cigarette and released smoke into the neon blue sky, thinking.

She approached Dollface, grabbed her chin with a witch-like hand, and squished the girl's face.

Dollface roughly pulled away.

"What's your weight?"

"E-eighty-eight at last check up…" Dollface said, turning red.

"Perfect!" Markus shouted, "We need a new class one-hundred!"

The encounter had been unexpected, the girl's league even more so.

There was no Michael to scold or applaud her.

"I'll make it work." Mz. Zee said, turning, "Do you have any experience weightlifting?"

"I help at Grampa's farm."

"That's not experience." Mz. Zee coarsely said, "I should've known, girls' in combat sports is still new. Follow me."

Markus bounced on his heels, "I hope you can! You'd love it!"


"Well, good news!" Mz. Zee dryly, sarcastic tone shrill, "So, when did you say you last had a check-up?"

Dollface stared at the small digital screen on the floor next to the state athletics approved scale in shock at the reading, "J-just a few weeks ago!"

"Hmm…" Markus, crowded into the cramped 'girls' locker room' that was basically a broom closet with a toilet stall and a row of portable lockers, and asked, "Have you been eatin' more?"

"No…" Dollface stared.

Ninety-eight point seven pounds, exact.

How could she get so heavy, so fast?

"Do you remember the date?" Mz. Zee asked, clearly not believing her.

"Late July. Last week of it, I-I think," Sock-footed, Dollface stepped off the scale and picked at her nail polish, too stunned to speak.

First her light blonde hair turning almost copper, now her weight rising at unprecedented speeds?

"Get your shoes on, Coach Hardtack and Assistant Kujo are starting warmups in the practice arena," Mz. Zee ordered.

Dollface obeyed, scared that she was too slow to get her boots on.

"Move it!"


"Ya got any experience with weightlifting?"

"Well, uh, m'gramps sometimes coaches th'middle schoolers."

"That's not shit here," Growled Head Coach Hardtack, a frog-like old man hunched on a weight bench, "Sit."

He pointed at the bench across from him, signaling to Dollface that she was to sit. She nervously sat across from him, stiff.

"Alright, let's get started," the elderly coach said, "Season starts in November. Until then, practice is from Monday to Thursday. Got that?"

Dollface sharply nodded, still scratching at her nail polish nervously.

"Speak up!"

"Yes sir!"

"Good. We'll be weightlifting Monday and Wednesday, wrestling on the others."

Dollface's eyes searched the world beyond Coach Hardtack.

"Look at me when I'm talkin' to you."

Shifting, Dollface tried to force herself to look at Coach Hardtack's face, but found that she still couldn't stay focused in one place, "Yes sir!"

He stared at her, "Try it out before we get worked up over insurance then dip out."

The door behind him opened, and Coach Hardtack turned, relieving Dollface of his undivided attention.

"Afton! I see you've finally gotten rid of that girly-ass hair of yours!"

Dollface's stomach dropped, a strange coldness overtaking her.

The inside of her mouth hurt, she was speechless.

A young man, very physically fit with short, dark hair, had entered the weightroom. He had a square face and hollowed-out cheekbones, and with the addition of his nose and strong brow and hooded eyes, shared a strikingly similar profile to her. A silver eye rolled to her, almost as if he was glaring at her.

Under his cold, side-eyed gaze, Dollface felt helpless.

Afton.

Dollface's fingers gripped the leather textured naugahyde seat of the weight bench, nails digging crescents into it.

"Family resemblance?" Mz. Zee asked, looking between the two and breaking the silence.

Still staring at 'Afton', Dollface shook her head, petrified.

There was a third Afton son?

"Never seen her in my life."

Dollface's eyes flicked around the room.

"Better get you acquainted with the coaches if you're planning on joining anytime soon," Coach Hardtack grunted to his feet, "This is junior assistant coach Mikey Afton. We mostly just call him 'Mikey'."

Dollface stood, eyes on Mikey.

"You got a starin' problem or something?"

Dollface ignored his dry remark, "Any relation t'William Afton?"

He squinted, dour face going dark, "Son."

Her stomach dropped.

She wasn't safe at St. Godiva's.

"Stop starin' and get t'work!" Snapped Coach Hardtack, "I got places t'be. Coach Zama- Zamolo- Zamalama- Aw Hell! Coach Zee, get her to Coach Kujo and Coach Jenny!"