Black Mask [formerly known as The Street Fighter]- BOOK I

FIVE: "FRIENDS"

FIVE: "FRIENDS"

There was a calmness in the air that placed Riley at ease. The blue skies and their friends—the faint white clouds—all gave her a warm hug. One that she needed even if she didn't want to admit it. She sat at the back and watched the two girls that waltzed into her life the minute she entered Monroe High, knife tossing.

Jamie looked over her shoulder at Riley and gave her a sly smirk. "Scared of a knife, monkey?" The guys that were also watching murmured at Jamie's comment. Riley stood up and chuckled walking toward the table next to her. "It doesn't bite, you know."

"Be careful of what you wish for, Jamie," Riley mused, picking up one of the knives. Her fingers slide against the slender, sliver blade, blood trickling down her finger. She wiped away and aimed for the center of the target. Relaxed, in her element, she released the knife and watched it—they all did.

Every single person in that room fell silent when the knife landed right on the bullseye. Riley smiled and turned to Jamie. "Do you have any more fun comments for me, Jamie?"

"Shut up," she scoffed and tossed a knife. She chuckled when she hit the bullseye. "Try hitting two in a row, monkey."

Riley sighed. "Even though I have nothing to prove to you, I like a fun competition." She picked up three knives between three of her fingers and closed her eyes. Little did they all know, Riley knife toss in her sleep. They gasped as she opened her eyes to look at the target. She smirked seeing that her knives made it in the center.

"Riley, what the hell was that? Dude, that was insane!" Carmen told her, in complete shock. "How did you do that?!"

Riley smiled. "Practice makes perfect, I guess."

Nice sly comment, girlie. What's next? Are you going to tell them that you were super-spy?

"Best two out of three, come on, monkey," Jamie wasn't satisfied and wanted more. "Let's go."

"Jamie, she already beat you. Stop digging a hole for yourself. Someone finally shut you down. It's about time you get a taste of your own medicine, to be honest," a voice spoke up to her. "About time somebody finally put you in your place. You've gotten way too cocky."

"Shut up, Brandon!" Jamie sneered. "This is none of your business."

"J—"

"It's okay," Riley shrugged. "I'm down for a best two out of three. This monkey is having a lot of fun."

Jamie set herself up, placing ten knives on the table in front of her. "I hope you're ready to lose, monkey," she said, proudly. As for Riley, she stood back and watched Jamie toss the knives toward the target. The room was silent, succumbing to the thick tension resting between them. "When I'm done, you're going to worship the floor I walk on, monkey."

Riley chuckled to herself. Jamie spoke highly of herself—prideful—while trying to tear Riley down. But her pride was soon to be squashed. The guy standing by Jamie, Brandon, looked on nervously as he watched her. Carmen watched with wary eyes. After seeing a taste of what Riley could do, who could blame her. Jamie tossed the first one hitting the mid-line of the target.

Unsatisfied, she tossed another. Then another. Until she reached her last knife. Under pressure, with eyes on her, she was cracking. Sweat trickled down her forehead, hands clammy as she reeled it. She took a breath and released, letting the knife fly. For a moment, she closed her eyes and prayed. Then something she wasn't expecting happened.

They laughed.

Everyone except Riley and Carmen laughed.

Her last knife didn't hit the target. She missed the target. Riley walked over as the employee pulled the knives out and handed them to her.