MOVE ALONG, NOTHING TO READ HERE

BIRTH OF A LEGEND

Pain, the type that made me feel my heartbeat at the tip of my toes, throbbed at the back of my skull. As my eyes blinked open slowly, I was welcomed mostly by darkness. A single sliver of light peeked through a crack beneath what I assumed to be the door of whatever room I ended up in, since the last thing I remember was walking down the hallway back to the locker room.

I pushed myself off the floor. A little too quick at first, as the dizziness almost knocked me back on my ass. I was able to steady myself, though it took a bit more effort than I expected. I patted the back of my head, felt the welt and a bit of moisture that matted my hair. Someone must have attacked me from behind, a damn good shot if it took me out instantly.

My eyes slowly started to focus in the dim light, as the rest of my senses also found their way out of the fog.

I laughed.

It hurt a bit when I did, the slight movement of my head felt as if someone had shaken it like a magic eight ball. I'm not sure what the question was, but the answer was more than likely yes.

Is that a bucket and a mop?

Does it smell like lemon and chemicals?

Are you in a janitor's closet?

Does it hurt to think?

Actually, all signs pointed to yes.

I needed to get out of here, but the door would not budge at all. I checked for a lock since the knob turned freely, but there was no way to unlock the deadbolt from the inside. I started to bang the door with the bottom of my fist, but I wasn't even sure how long I'd been out…much less if anyone was even still out there. Still, I couldn't stay locked up in this closet forever.

“IS ANYONE OUT THERE,” I wasn't sure if anyone could hear me scream, but I needed to try something…anything.

It felt like an eternity had passed, and I was about to give up and curl up in a ball on the floor when I saw something glisten on the floor a foot or so away from the mop bucket. I walked over, grabbed it so I could lift it up. The metal was nice and cool in my hand, and it felt all so familiar.

Brass knuckles.

Could this have been what was used in my attack, the object that had left a welt the size of Rhode Island on the back of my head. I couldn't be certain, but it was a gift from the heavens that I would not let go to waste. I walked back to the door – my fingers inside of her – and took a hard swing.

I felt the metal give way a bit, but it was too dark to tell if there was an actual dent left behind. Regardless, what I hoped was that someone heard the thunk against the metal door if they were not able to hear my yells.

“Ola?” I heard someone ask from the other side.

“Hey,” I yelled back. “It's Tony Gamble, I'm locked in here!”

I could hear the sound of the lock as it was turned, the sudden flood of light bright enough to make my eyes blink shut quickly. I put my hand up in front of my face, and opened them to a squint. There stood one of the Enemigos, though I wasn't sure what number he was.

“Thank you,” I told him, as I realized he was only an inch or two taller than me.

-_-_-_-_-

THE HERO SHE NEEDED

I had done everything in my power to not cross the room, wrap my hands around his neck, and drive his face into the ground. The awkward smile on his face made my stomach turn, and I realized instantly that I could actually hate someone more than Ivan loved suspenders.

As much as my size was made fun of, I knew I could have snapped him like a twig if that was what I desired. He was probably a hundred pounds soaking wet, and that was with steel toed boots on and carrying a case of water on each shoulder. What made him think he could protect my daughter.

His name is Travis Greipe, and he had come over to take Olivia out on her first date. I couldn't understand what she saw in this kid, but apparently he had defended her against the little bastard that had put his hands on her, so Victoria had asked me to cut him some slack and give him a chance. I wasn't sure I could take him seriously, especially with a name that sounded like a damn fruit.

How would anyone ever be able to take someone with a name like that seriously?

The jokes would pretty much write themselves.

Still, he had stood up for Olivia without hesitation, and I wanted to know what made him do it.

“Why,” I asked him without any other context.

His eyes widened, the smile on his lips thinned out a little, and I could tell he wasn't sure how to answer me.

“I'm sorry,” he took a beat. “I'm not really sure what exactly you're asking me about?”

I liked this kid even less, he talked like he was in his fifties.

“Why did you confront Eddie?”

“Because it was the right thing to do,” he answered me without hesitation. The smile was gone, and there was something different in his eyes that I knew I'd seen before but couldn't remember where.

“From what I understand, you didn't really know her.” His posture shifted as I spoke to him, straightening out as the conversation became serious. “Who does that?”

“I guess I do,” he answered me, eyes locked on mine as he did so. He was making it really hard for me to dislike him, but I continued to try anyway.

“So you have a hero complex.”

“I wouldn't say that,” his response was genuine, but it was what he said after that really earned him a bit of respect from me. “I just saw someone being a jerk to a girl I like, and figured I'd let him know that it wasn't going to fly with me around. Not a huge fan of guys like that, if I'm being honest. ”

“So you like my daughter,” I leaned forward, interlocked my fingers, and rested my elbows on my lap. “How exactly did that happen?”

“It was my first day at a new school,” he started, but it was the sound of my daughter's voice from behind that cut him off just as quickly.

“Dad, stop.”

His eyes widened, and the awkward smile he had earlier returned when his attention turned away from me and toward her. I glanced over my shoulder, and understood why his expression had changed. Olivia looked…

“Beautiful.”

Okay, maybe I could hate this kid after all. If nothing else, I could use this in my match against Danny Boy.

-_-_-_-_-

FIRST DATE JITTERS

Olivia Henderson sat in front of a mirror, as her mother brushed her hair from behind. No one had ever really made an effort to pay this sort of attention to her, to actually show genuine affection and ask her out on a date.

Travis had been different from the start, and when he returned from his suspension – after his fight with Eddie – he had made it a point to hold her hand in the hallway as he walked her to her classes. He never pushed for anything more, and he had actually asked her permission before he did it. She appreciated it, and the good vibes he gave off lifted her own spirits.

“It's nice to see you smiling again,” her mother said as she started to braid a few strands together.

It was true, there was something about being free from the emotional prison Cruz had put her through that bright a smile to her face. She hasn't thought about harming herself in a while, and she looked forward to each day with so much joy.

“It feels good too.”