Fight Like a Girl - Sheena Kamal Page 0,53
world but me and her.
Kru keeps staring, though. As if he’s considering me. Doubting me.
I find Jason after, in the men’s change room. “What did you say to him?” I push him. Not hard, but hard enough. We’re alone, so it’s fine.
But apparently it’s not fine to him. “Don’t touch me if you’re gonna do shit like that,” he says. He goes to the door. “I told him the truth. Something’s up with you. I don’t think you should be fighting.”
“Stay out of it!” I push him again. He doesn’t like it, but we aren’t in the ring and he won’t do anything about it when we aren’t geared up.
“I will from now on. You need help. You hit your head one too many times or something.”
What, so I’m brain-dead now? I’ve got CTE like those football players? Chronic traumatic ence-something (I can’t remember exactly—but that DOES NOT mean I actually do have CTE).
“Wait,” I say.
He turns. “What?” He looks really angry, for some reason. I don’t know why. If anyone has a reason to be mad, it’s me. Talking to Kru behind my back like a snitch? That’s just straight-up wrong. If he really cared about me, he wouldn’t have said anything.
He waits for a moment, but I guess I don’t have anything to say to him, really, so he just leaves.
I wish I could talk to him without fighting.
A minute later Ricky comes in, sees me on the bench. I’m wide open, legs apart, like I’ve just been hit. “I would,” he says, smirking, “but you’re not my type.”
For the life of me I can’t think of a comeback. I try real hard, but my mind can’t seem to hold on to anything right now.
“Kru wants to see you,” says Ricky. I wait till he leaves, then I knock on Kru’s door and stick my head inside. I see him put a photo back into his desk drawer. He shuts the drawer and clears his throat. There’s a spreadsheet open on his computer screen and a selection of vitamin water on the shelf behind him.
My mouth is dry, but my palms are sweating. I’m still wearing my hand wraps, but I wish I’d taken them off. From the way that Kru is not looking at me, I already know what he’s going to say.
“Trisha…”
He never calls me this. Well, not never. The last time was when he found out my dad died and he said Trisha, I’m sorry. But I can’t remember any time before that, it’s been so long.
“Look, I’m just going to tell it plain. You’re off the card for Florida. Trisha, I’m sorry.” There it is again.
I stagger into the room. “Kru, please don’t.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not the right time. I already pulled you.”
“Well, put me back!”
“No.”
“Is it because of Jason? Because, Kru, I think he’s mad at me because I broke up with him. He doesn’t know anything!”
He blinks. I don’t think he even knew there was a thing between me and Jason, though it was obvious to just about everyone else.
This scorned woman line doesn’t work on him. “You can still come with us to Miami but no fighting.”
“Kru, I swear I can do this.”
“I know you can. I wouldn’t have put you on the card if I didn’t think so. But I’m not going to let you this time. We’ll get you ready for the next tournament. You can come with us to support. The team would like you there.” He says this last part quietly. He never speaks to me this way. With caution.
I can’t be in here anymore, so I leave. Outside, in the back lot, I put my fist into the brick wall. Blood wells at my knuckles and there’s a sharp stab in my wrist but the pain is nothing new. I feel it and I know I’ll feel it more in a minute, but for right now I barely let in anything but the rage. I don’t even feel the cold, which still lingers even though it’s supposed to be spring.
There’s a sound behind me like the clearing of a throat. Imelda’s standing there, looking at me. I didn’t even hear her approach. “What?”
“Kru told me that I’m replacing you in Florida. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Imelda is replacing me? What a surprise.
“Yeah, I look it, don’t I?” I bite out.
She doesn’t flinch, just stares at me with those big blue eyes that seem to follow me wherever I go. I try