Mixie Moxie (COMPLETED)

Promised

The smile on Cloudy's face brightened my mood immediately. His boys whooped and hollered around the room, punching bags and kicking sacks all over the place. 

"Mixie! You're back!" They crowded me and talked all at the same time about the tournament, but what they forgot is I'll knock all they asses out if they don't shut the hell up.

"HEY!" I screamed, freezing them in their tracks, "Unless Y'all don't want balls anymore, let's try this again... ONE at a time!" They shook their heads in unison, dispersing themselves so they wouldn't face the wrath of Mixian Moxelle. Cloudy dapped Jinx up before turning on his laptop and turning it to me. 

"Two schools just dropped out of the tournament because they don't have a sturdy boxing team, which means that our division only has 2 teams to deal with before we fight outside for the other 3. This is perfect," I honestly wish I knew about school tournaments so I could share the excitement, but I kind of just nodded happily. 

"The first round is after school today at 6,"Cloudy announced, glancing around gladly, "Mixie, are you ready for it?" 

I felt my rib. Sore, but not as tender as when Max first put his hands on me. I healed fast, and I cracked my knuckles before I gave him a look that made his smile 30 times wider. The whole room stared at me, waiting for my response like the wolves they were. I nodded.

Their cheer rattled the room, all of them excitedly jumping so high they almost bopped their big heads against the ceiling. That type of energy is so infectious, as soon I was smiling right with them. Something inside me wondered how Cloudy was so energetic when the other day he was breaking down... so I pulled him aside.

"How are you taking everything?" I figured that was the best way to ask. His smile faded slightly as he looked down, but then he took my hands in his, "It's something I think about every day, Mix." He started, his eyes low and sorrowful as he looked at our hands like the souls of his friends were in his grip. My heart burned in my chest. In an instant, the sorrow was swallowed back into the depths of his mind before he met his eyes with mine again, "but I can't dwell on it. Their families gave me their forgiveness... all I can do is let them live through me... through us," The Wolves were looking at us again, and held their heads low as they all took their time to pay respects. Jinx played with his curls before nodding and holding his head down. With Cloudy's hand in mine, I stood forward.

"I promise this to you all," I began, looking back at the confused look on Cloudy's face, "You will have a trophy to take to your lost friend's tombstones. I will be the one to bring it home," 

They all ran to me at once, encasing me in a huge ass group hug that I just had to suck my pride up for. Jinx shook his head and sighed happily. 

...

Cloudy's keys jingled with the same excitement in his steps. We walked up to the tournament hall, three blocks down from the school. You could tell that they put hella bread into this shit, cause it was tall, polished, and packed with snack stands and gift shops like a fucking stadium. "Go Wolves!" posters and banners strung themselves across the building. My neck felt like it was bout to break off I was looking up so hard, Jinx and I looked like kids in a brand new candy store. Chad started cracking up. 

"Hah, this is the tournament building for our home battles, kickboxing is as popular as football over here. These people are true boxing fanatics," 

"That's something I can get behind," I smirked at the hot dog boy, who stared awestruck at the fact that I was in his presence. I like being infamous. 

"Our locker room is over here," Bright blue, like a glistening cobalt hue. The lockers were well maintained and polished, with punching bags, weights and ropes in the back for pre-tournament training. 

Jinx let out a girly gasp, "This shit is dope!" 

"yeah, it is, and this..." Cloudy popped open locker 12, pulling out an all black bag and tossing it to me. I caught it securely, "is for you." 

Slowly, I peeled back the zipper until my jaw dropped. The colors gave me a similar feeling of when your prize drops into the bucket in a crane game. I smiled hard.

Bright cobalt gloves with silver trim, with Mixian Moxelle etched right at the wrists. the shorts were Blue with silver lines right at the knees, and a shining silver sports bra. Beautifully made like every piece of it was crafted by artisans. Cloudy chuckled. 

"I know you're Red Bull underground," He started, opening his own locker, "But up here you're a Wolf, and you sport our colors,"

"This is so icy, I can get behind it." 

"Good," he replied, "Cause we have one hour until you're facing the first round. You ready?'

Slipping the glove on felt effortless, like I had just put on a new coat of skin and it stuck. I let my fist fly at the locker, feeling the force all the way to my shoulder. I smirked.

"Ready."