I'm A Fighter (CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN)

Chapter 2

     The next two classes were a blur. All I could think about was Drake.
'Stupid stupid stupid! How could you give him your fighter name?? What if he discovers who you are? Who you really are? This could ruin everything!'
     The final bell jerked me out of my thoughts. I grabbed my books and slumped out of class. As I walked, I struggled to keep a smile off my face as I listened to the swirling rumours. According to the latest gossip, the five best guys on the football team got beaten up by a girl. They didn't see her face.
'Ha! They're too scared to identify me!'
I almost laughed out loud. But I forced it down. I quickly grabbed my bag and rushed out the front door.
     I practically ran home. I couldn't wait for tonight. I couldn't wait to get in the ring. I dropped my bag off at home, replacing it with my gym bag before heading to my favourite place in the world.
     The fighting arena. Well, maybe arena is too strong of a word. It's more like a big, dirty warehouse with a ring built in the center, and a washroom/change room in one corner. Anyways, while I'm there I'm not a scared little girl. I'm not Lily. I'm not the freak. I'm a committed street fighter. The best street fighter, to be precise. I am the one and only, Iris.
     I headed inside to the washroom and quickly changed into my traditional black shorts, purple running shoes, and Panic! At The Disco hoodie. I jogged out to meet my manager, Ally. She is so inspiring. She was the one that first "discovered" me.
     After...well, after something really bad happened to me, I started trying to learn to fight at a gym across the street. She saw me there and offered to train me. I agreed. I caught on quickly. When she thought I was ready, she asked me to try a street fight. I got my ass kicked. But I kept trying, and eventually I beat my first opponent. She looked so...proud of me. Now here I was, top of the pack so to speak.
    "Ok, Iris, you have six fights tonight. You ready?" She asked.
"Of course" I replied. I was always ready.
Over the P.A. I heard my name being called.
Ally looked into my eyes, as I stared back into her deep brown ones. Her blonde hair was pulled into a fishtail braid.
"Knock 'em dead kid," she said, smiling. I nodded.
'Showtime.'
     I walked up and stepped into the ring. Standing in front of me was a buff dude, his huge muscles flexing. His face was relaxed in a cocky sneer. And that cockiness was gonna cost him. The bell dinged. He raced towards me, throwing an uppercut at my jaw. I ducked, roundhouse kicking him in the stomach. He stumbled backwards, trying to recover. Before he could, I ran forward and grabbed his shoulders, bringing his face to my knee. He fell to the ground, face bloody, nose twisted and deformed.
'One, two-'
     My opponent leaped up, launching a new attack. He ran towards me, ready to tackle. I sidestepped and he got an armful of air. I ran forwards, jumping on his back, using his own body weight to flip him over my head. Crack.
The referee ran forward, checking his pulse. He was okay, just unconscious. Likely a concussion. The whistle blew, announcing my victory.
     My next five fights went pretty well the same. I won all of them. I grabbed my bag and collected my prize money. I walked over to Ally and she gave me a hug, beaming from ear to ear. I reflected her grin before turning around to head out. I was feeling giddy. At least, until right at the door, I glanced back at the arena. I wasn't sure why. But when I did, I saw...
'Is that..Drake??'
     He made eye contact with me. No doubt about it. I'd only looked into them once, but I'd recognize those eyes anywhere. I was frozen in place for a minute. In his eyes I saw... loneliness? Fear? Maybe even...caring? My eyes widened.
'No. No one can get close to me! Ever!'
I panicked, whipped around and ran.
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Drake's POV

*That morning...*
     I slowly walked down the hallway to my locker, head down. I could hear their whispers and taunts as I walked. I was tripped at least seven times. Maybe more. I've stopped counting. I finally got to my locker, when I bumped into Brian, falling onto my back. 'Uh-oh,' I thought. He grabbed me by the front of my You Me At Six hoodie, yanking me to my feet, before growling in my ear,
"You're gonna get it at lunch."
     He dropped me on the ground and walked away. I was terrified to say the least. My first two classes all I could think about was how to avoid him and his crew at lunch. But I knew it was inevitable. Suddenly the bell rang, and dread filled my stomach. I rushed outside, and behind the school only to see Brian and four of his buddies trailing behind me.
     I started running, throwing myself around the corner. But I wasn't a senior football player. They were much faster, and they caught me. Two of them held my arms while a third shoved a dirty rag in my mouth, before joining Brian. The three guys not holding me started yelling at me and kicking me as I struggled desperately to cover my face and stomach. All of a sudden Brian got a punch in to my stomach.
     It was brutal, sending new streams of tears down my face. They let go to congratulate each other, and my legs crumpled beneath me. I curled into a ball, trying to prepare for their next onslaught. Suddenly I see a pair of Vans sneakers walk in front of me. Funny. The jocks didn't own Vans. I glanced up, seeing a girl in a leather jacket and some black skinny jeans.
'This isn't gonna end well,' I thought.
     They bantered back and forth for a minute, the guys insisting this was necessary, but here is the strange thing: the girl was actually defending me. I was shocked. Suddenly one of the guys, I think it was Brian, grabbed her arm to take her away from me. She whipped her arm out of his grasp, and kicked him in the stomach! He was so angry. He ordered his buddies to attack her.
'Oh god. She's gonna get beaten.'
     I scrunched my eyes closed in terror. I didn't hear her scream though. I opened my eyes. I was appalled as I watched each guy try to attack her, and fail. She had killer moves. The last guy, seeing he wasn't gonna win, fled with his buddies. Once they were gone, the girl came over to me. I wasn't sure if she could be trusted. She touched my shoulder and I flinched away, thinking maybe she just wanted to beat me herself.
"Shhhhh," she whispered. Her voice was strangely calming. She continued. "You're okay. I'm here. Can I help you up? Can you stand?"
I met her eyes.
'Could I trust her?'
     I decided to try. It couldn't get much worse. She held her hand out, and I took it slowly. She seemed to take this as a sign, and put her hand back on my shoulder, this time gripping it firmly to help me up. I couldn't help groaning as a new wave of pain washed over me. Her eyes seemed to reflect sympathy.
     I tried to walk, but I almost fell. It was too difficult. My right ankle was definitely fractured. Her eyes widened in understanding and before I could protest, she slung my arm over her shoulder and helped me to a bench.
'What is she doing?'
     She rummaged in her bag for something. After a moment, she pulled out some tensor bandages.
'Why is she helping me?'
She pulled off my shoe and sock to wrap up my ankle. I struck up a conversation to ease the tension.
"Hey um..thank you. For what you did back there. My name is Drake."
"Hey it's seriously no problem, those guys are serious jerks." She replied. I found myself chuckling.
"That's an understatement," I replied, laughing. It surprised me. I hadn't laughed in years. I didn't remember the last time that I had.
     She finished bandaging up my ankle and I bent to put my shoe back on. I finished and just looked at her. She didn't look away. We stayed there, seemingly glued to that position by invisible forces, eyes locked.
     I looked into her eyes. Like really looked. I saw...pain. She looked scared, yet she also looked like she didn't mind being scared. She looked almost happy for a moment. But then the happiness turned to absolute panic.
'She is so beautiful. Who could have hurt her like that? I don't want her to ever be hurt again. I just met her and yet I already feel like I've known her a hundred years. I want to know her better. Maybe she wants to know me too?'
     We broke eye contact as the bell rang. Was that a tear? Falling down her cheek? I wanted to wipe it away. But I stayed still. She jumped up, grabbed her stuff and moved to leave. I startled myself when I grabbed her arm desperately, pleading silently for her not to leave.
"Please. What's your name?" I begged.
She replied quickly.
"Just call me Iris."
And then she walked away.
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     All through my next two classes all I thought about was Iris. I knew I'd heard that name before. But where? I jumped as the bell rang. I quickly grabbed my stuff, grabbed my bag from my locker, and started walking home. As I was walking, I had a thought.
'Isn't Iris the name of that famous street fighter?'
     And though crazy as it seemed, I knew I had to find out. I quickly dropped my stuff off at home, left a note for my parents, and headed to the fighting arena.  As I walked in, I heard the name Iris being called. I slipped through the crowd as the fight started. No doubt about it. From the second I laid eyes on her, I knew it was the girl who had saved me today. I stayed for all six of her fights.
     Her moves were flawless. She won every fight. And at the end, right before she slipped out the door, she looked over her shoulder. I don't know why. But I feel like she was meant to. She looked at me in confusion, then realization. Her eyes showed a split second of happiness before turning to the panic and anguish I had seen earlier. Before I had a chance to go to her, she turned on her heel and ran out.