Four Years: The first year

19|Aly

The bet was already made. Was I regretting it? No. Was I nervous? Yes.
I mean, I know I'm good but he's an 8-year-old veteran. That's right he started at fourteen. Fourteen! He has twice the experience I have. But it still wasn't going to faze me.

The bet was going to take place in the evening, until then we had much time to kill.

I was passing through the hall when I saw George sitting in the lounge with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Suddenly, a ridiculous idea popped into my head. He thinks I can't lie, huh? I'll show him how good I can lie.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what I was about to do, and walked over to him.

"Hey." I sat in front of him across the table. "I need to talk to you about something."

He looked up and gave all his attention to me. He took a sip of his coffee. "Don't tell you want to take the bet back."

"No," I said, sardonically.

He laughed. "Okay, what is it?"

I got in the zone and cleared my throat. "I've been keeping something from you," I said, my voice so low that he had to lean slightly to hear me. I glanced at him and then looked away and bit my lower lip. He was listening intently, clutching the coffee cup in his hand so hard that I thought it would break at any moment. "I didn't say anything because we're friends - and now we also work together- but I just can't keep it in any longer." He looked terrified. So awkward and uncomfortable like he might just run away or jump out the window. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. "George, I- I think I have-"

"Wait- wait, no. Don't say it." He reached out, frenzied, almost leaping out of his chair. 

"-feelings for you."

He leaned his head back grabbing a fistful of his hair, his eyes shut tight. When he finally looked at me, he opened his mouth to say something but his words failed him and he shut his mouth again.
   He cleared his throat. "Listen, love - uh, Aly- I- I'm really flattered. And you're a great girl - woman. Woman. But I-"

My constrained laughter finally erupted. I couldn't hold it in any longer. He looked at me in horror. His jaw plummeted to the floor. "You are an evil, mean woman!" He scoffed.

"Look at me- and tell me I can't lie," I said, still fighting for my breath, "Oh my god, I can't believe you fell for that. You looked like a deer caught in headlights."
He said something again but I couldn't decipher because of being busy laughing. 

"And to think I said you were sensitive." He shook his head in sardonic disappointment.

"Hah, now tell me I don't have the killer instinct." I banged a fist on the table, still dying of laughter.

"I feel so betrayed right now, I can't even look at you." He said, playfully. "Don't try to stop me." He got up, dramatically turned around, and then went out the door, leaving me and my laughter behind.

............................................................................

It was time. We were in an adorned, dark room in the headquarters made for sparring and training new trainees. It had no windows, just a plain gray room. A perfect setting for a spar. I couldn't see him clearly, just his silhouette in the dimly lit space. I knew for a fact, he would play fair and square. He won't be lenient.
Good.

Even in the darkness, I could feel his piercing, almost predatory, gaze on me. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as he studied my every move. 
   The first to make a move would have the upper hand. The duel began, he was already right in front of me. Our bodies moved rhythmically. Back and forth, up and down, left and right. Both of us trying to find a way to break through our defenses. 

The only sound in the room was from our ragged breaths and occasional thuds and blows. Both of us breathed heavily, sweat dripping down our bodies. Neither of us could afford to slip- every detail counted. 
    Our bodies collided more often now, with sharper impact each time. I couldn't help but notice he seemed to get closer with every hit-and-miss. We were at a standstill. But then something shifted. I saw the opening I was looking for and delivered an acute right hook. He stumbled backward. Blood emanated from the corner of his lips. He chuckled, wiping the blood off his lip from his thumb. "Not bad, but not nearly good enough."

As round two began, I found myself fighting harder, matching his moves as though we were dancing, each one perfectly in sync. 
   The tension was palpable, the air thick with our combined breath, our bodies heating up. It seemed he was extremely motivated to besting me due to my little prank this morning. Suddenly, he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me towards him, spinning me around. My leg wrapped around his, our bodies pressed tightly together. A slight shiver ran up my spine as our fingers locked for a moment.
    He pinned me against the wall, one hand gripping my waist tightly. The other arm pressed against my neck. A bead of sweat trailed down my forehead to the neck and my chest. I struggled briefly, but he had me in a tight position.
   
His grip tightened like he was determined to stay in charge. But I wasn't going to make it easy for him. I shifted my weight and caught him off balance momentarily. He tried to regain his grip but I was quicker this time, pinning him to the wall instead. We were pressed so close together, I could feel every muscle in his body. I breathed in the scent of his cologne. "So, do you like quiet, reserved girls or girls who can fight?" I mocked him, knowing that if I won he'd have to go on a date with someone I set him up with.

He was surprised by how quickly I managed to shift our positions but he wasn't going to let me have an easy victory. He quickly grabbed my arms, pinning me to the ground with a hand holding both my wrists above my head and the other on the back of my waist, below me.
"I'd prefer someone who can draw blood out of my face." The corners of his mouth curled into a taunting smile. 
    His hot and heavy breath tickled my neck, his body brushing up against mine. His eyes dropped from my eyes to my lips.
   He had me completely immobile now. Arms gripped above my head, legs locked. I grimaced. It was over. I lost the bet. He knew it but he still didn't let go. He lingered on top of me. 

His cocky smile turned into a grin.
"Get ready for the worst date of your life, love."