Inevitably Yours
Chapter 59

MICHAEL

I sighed as I watched the buses roll-up. Unlike the regular school buses we would take to tournaments, my new school chose to share charter buses with the pack I’d already had problems with at Austin’s party. Luckily, this wouldn’t be an overnight tournament like I was used to over Christmas break at home. We were only going to be gone for the day.

I’d gotten here midway into the season, which put me in a weird position. I was dominating our whole wrestling team, but because I’d moved into town so late, league rules dictated that I stay at JV until right before the state qualifiers. So, there I was, stepping on a bus with the JV team. It was kind of pointless, but I made a commitment to the team, and I needed to fulfill it wherever I was able.

I was seated across the aisle from the opposing heavyweight at the back of the bus as we filed in.It turned out he was their varsity heavyweight, named Darian, but he was out for an injury and came to help their JV heavyweight through his matches. I was glad I wrestled the 215-pound weight class, just below his. I wasn’t necessarily worried about wrestling anyone. If I lost, I lost, but Goddess, did it suck to wrestle guys as big as he was. He took up a whole seat almost to himself.

The talk was pleasant on the way to the tournament, with the guys on my team acting a little overzealous in regaling my arrival here and my wrestling abilities. The varsity heavyweight nodded in approval, seeming impressed by what they were saying. It was hard for them to give an accurate accounting since the south didn’t wrestle like we did in the north. They were like an elementary school team awestruck by a high school wrestler with basic wrestling skills. I could see a squat, chubby kid sitting behind Darian fuming in his seat, though. I couldn’t tell if he was mad about what they were saying or if it was something else.

“What’s up with him?” I asked, jerking my head back towards him.

“Oh, that’s our JV heavy. Don’t worry about him. He’s probably annoyed they’re talking about you. He thinks he’s Goddess’ gift to wrestling. Nice kid, but he’s going to get wrecked talking s**t to the wrong person,” Darian answered. I shrugged and pulled out my phone; you couldn’t make everyone happy.

ME

| still miss me?

BLUE

| thats a silly question

ME

| tournament go okay?

BLUE

| it went fine

| team did great

ME

| omw to a tournament right now

| they got us charter buses

BLUE

| lucky!

| wish I could be there to see you wrestle 🙁

ME

| me too blue

| I’ll pin someone for you though

BLUE

| I know you will “Goddess, I wish he’d get on the mat with us.”

“He won’t. He knows what will happen. Coward,” Eros agreed darkly within me.

“Hey, Galbraith!” I heard from one of the officials.

“Yes, sir?” I asked once I reached him. I’d seen him on the floor, but we’d never met. He was holding a clipboard and studying it.

“I’ve seen your matches. You supposed to be varsity?” he asked, peering over his glasses at me.

“Uh, yea,” I replied, my hand rubbing the back of my head in embarrassment. “I got here too late in the season, and they’re making me wrestle JV until right before districts.”

“That makes me feel better then. I was concerned you were sandbagging my tournament,” he answered, letting his reading glasses fall to his chest.

“No, sir, not at all. I’d much rather wrestle varsity.”

“I have a team here with a few of their state qualifiers and some empty mat. You want to do a practice match with one of them?”

“Of course, I will!” I clambered. I’d take an opportunity to see what the upper caliber of this state’s wrestling was like.

“Alright, watch for your name like usual. I’ll put it up.”

“Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he laughed.

I came back and told Bobby what was going on. He explained that he’d seen that team before, and they usually demolished everyone in the second round of state qualifiers for our area. Kids from their team were regularly sent to the off-season national tournament and generally placed well. Bobby was certain their coach was from a northern, wrestling-centric school instead of our southern, football-centric ones. Their team was from one of the small pockets within the state that cared about wrestling. I could feel the adrenaline starting to pump through me as I took Bobby to the side and used him to warm up. I was about to get a real match.

“Galbraith on deck,” I heard over the loudspeaker, and I smiled at Bobby.

“Go get us a pin, bro,” he told me, throwing his hand out to dap me, ending in a snap.

I stepped up onto the mat, watching my opponent follow. He didn’t say a word, just paced back and forth across our starting point, staring at me. The ref brought his hands down to signal that we needed to put our feet on the line, so I stepped forward and put my hand out to shake my opponent’s. He gripped it firmly, trying to crush it, so I didn’t let him; I matched the force of his grip back, but his face gave nothing away.

The whistle blew, and we started to fight for control of each other’s hands. He was fast, strong, and skilled. It was the first real opponent I’d faced since moving. I grabbed one of his wrists, and he immediately dropped his knee down on top of my wrist and ripped his hand away at the same time. He reached forward and grabbed the back of my head, pulling me into him. I let him so he couldn’t shoot on me if I pulled back away from him; doing that would only put me off balance.

I grabbed for his head, and we ended up in a mutual head and arm position, mirroring each other with one hand on the back of the elbow and the other controlling the head. I turned my forehead into his temple, driving his head away from me and rubbing in my stubble to make it burn. It gave me enough opening to pop his elbow up and duck under his arm. Then, I threaded my other hand behind him and pinned his head to his shoulder with my ear as my hands locked behind him, giving me control of both his head and arm.

I swept one of his legs away, and we dropped to the mat. He started trying to bridge onto his head, but I was keeping him almost pinned. I was so close to getting his shoulders flat when I heard the buzzer and the ref’s whistle. The first period ended.

I offered my opponent a hand to help him to his feet once I was on mine again, but he slapped it away and elected to stand on his own grumpily. Looking over at the score, I was up 5-0. Two points for the takedown and three for exposing his back to the mat in a ‘near fall.’ It was time for the next period, so the ref flipped a coin. It landed on my opponent’s color.

“Top, bottom, or neutral?” the ref asked. He pointed upwards without saying a word.

“f**k, this is not a guy I want on top of me,” I thought, the adrenaline getting replaced with something else. This kid was big and skilled and would be a real challenge to get out from under.

“Don’t panic. It isn’t him,” Eros told me.

Dropping to my hands and knees to start, my heart beat so fast I thought it would burst from my chest if I couldn’t calm down; I tried to slow my breathing. This was my biggest weakness in wrestling. Lawrence. He was why I started, and the panic I felt from being smothered never went away. It had cost me plenty of matches when I started, but it happened less and less as I gained experience. I could feel the anxiety set in, though, and I knew this wasn’t good. I felt him get into position over me, and as soon as the whistle blew, I shot to my feet like a rocket. All I needed to do was break away; If I could turn and face him, this fear would go away.

I felt myself get dragged back to the mat, and my body froze. From there, it was like watching someone else’s match. From the moment he pulled me back to the mat to the moment the ref’s whistle chirped and he slapped the mat to declare the pin could not have been more than thirty seconds. The anxiety won; I had no fight and needed it all to be over. My body wouldn’t do what I wanted it to, and it was all I could do to push air through my lungs. I didn’t even bother walking across to shake the opposing coach’s hand; I was ashamed. I’d let him beat me again. I would never escape this.

“All that s**t everyone talked, and you’re just a f*****g scrub,” the pudgy heavyweight laughed from his seat on the way back.

“Man, you might want to shut the f**k up. That guy went to nationals last year, and from everything everyone has told me, this guy would put you in a coffin,” Darian stood up for me. I wasn’t saying s**t. They’d never understand what happened, and I wasn’t going to try to defend myself.

“A coffin? I’d teabag this b***h in front of his mama, drag my balls all over his face before the pin. He ain’t s**t,” came his reply.

“f**k it, bro; I’m not saving you if he puts his hands on you,” his mentor told him; he seemed as much done with the JV kid’s attitude as I was.

I sat stewing as he continued. My teammates argued with him for me, but he ran his mouth for three hours. They reminded him we wrestled their school next, right after New Year’s. He didn’t care, I wasn’t technically in his weight class, and I wasn’t getting in a fight on this bus.

As we departed, I heard his voice coming from behind me, “See you next time, bitch.”

“You gonna let him talk to you like that?” Bobby asked, clearly puzzled. “What was that back there? You had him in the first period. You just gave up in the second.”

“It’s complicated, man. I don’t want to talk about it.”

We said our goodbyes, and I walked over to the treeline. I stepped out of my clothes within the cover of the woods, feeling the air that was disappointingly much too warm for December hit my skin, and I stuffed everything into my bag. Shooting my parents a text that I’d be home late, I shifted and picked up my bag. Anywhere would be better than here. Maybe I’d feel better after Eros had some time out to himself.

QUINN

Michael never told me how his tournament was going. I was used to the disappearing act, but we had been getting along great since Christmas and really hoped this wouldn’t set us back.

Sapphire reminded me that I needed to focus on Jaxx and meeting his family, that I had to stop worrying about Michael. I turned my attention back to the mirror, appraising my appearance for the hundredth time.

My shimmery silver tights looked nice under my black skirt. I paired them with a white sweater with three-quarter sleeves and had Michael’s necklace and Jaxx’s bracelet to tie it together. My black boots weren’t too messed up from the snow, but they were as good as I had. I curled the ends of my hair and swept it all back into a ponytail. I hoped this looked nice enough.

I snapped a picture and sent it to Christy, asking her if this was ‘meet the parents’ worthy, and then tidied up my room. There wasn’t much time left before Jaxx came to get me, and I was so nervous my palms were sweating.

My phone rang, and it was Jaxx. “Hey,” I said, answering quickly.

“I’m coming down the road,” he said. “Want to meet me outside? We are running a little late, and my dad doesn’t want to miss our reservation.”

“Reservation?” I asked. “I thought we were having dinner at your house.”

“Slight change of plans,” he clarified. “We might end up back at your house faster this way.”

“Okay,” I said. I took a deep breath. “I’ll be outside in just a second.”

“Okay, babe,” Jaxx said before hanging up. I grabbed my peacoat and slipped my feet into my boots. I left my book on my desk, deciding it probably wasn’t necessary and wouldn’t leave a good impression anyway.

I ran down the steps quickly. “Bye Mom, Bye Dad. Be back later!” I called, heading for the front door.

“Have fun!” My mom called. As I stepped outside the door, I pulled on my coat and saw Jaxx pulling into the driveway; he looked a little stressed out. I jogged over to the passenger side and climbed in.

I closed the door and turned to face him. He leaned over and gave me a quick k**s. “Long time no see,” he laughed. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I hope I look okay,” I said.

“You look perfect. Don’t worry; they will love you,” he smiled.

“We should go before I chicken out and climb out of your truck,” I laughed. He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers.

“I can hold your hand the whole time,” he assured.

Jaxx finally excused us from the most awkward dinner of my entire life, using the excuse that my parents wanted me back. He grabbed my coat for me, and we moved faster the farther we got away from the table.

An awkward tension clouded the entire meal. Jaxx’s sister kept giving me weird looks, while his mom would stare at his dad with malice when she thought no one was looking. I had never felt so out of place in my life; I was either largely ignored, or asked odd, pointed questions that made me feel like I was in the middle of something very personal.

Jaxx held my coat out for me, and I slipped it on before we left the restaurant, silently hurrying to his truck. When we climbed in, he started the engine but didn’t move.

“Are you okay?” I finally asked.

“It wasn’t you…” he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” I offered.

“That shouldn’t have been like that. I’m sorry,” he said. He dropped his hands onto the steering wheel. He put his truck in gear, and I scooted closer to him. He looked at me before moving the car, and I put my hand on his leg.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “You can tell me what’s going on when you’re ready. We can pretend it never happened. Let’s go to my house and watch the adults get drunk and stupid.” I offered him a soft smile.

Jaxx reached over and cupped my cheek. “You’re too nice,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“I’m your girlfriend. That’s what I’m supposed to do,” I replied.

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