The Ring Academy of 5

Chapter 3. Done or Not?

       Quinton Newman (Rank Division 8)
I lift up her bike and roll it over to the dark sidewalk. I put the stopper down and lean it against the pole.
I look down and see the girl sitting on the ground, staring at the road.
"I don't know how you want to do this," I begin, kneeling down next to her, "we can take my bike and head to the doctor, or we can call an ambulance here. Which one?"
"Or. I could go and we can pretend like this never happened. You could make it easier on yourself."
"I'm trying to help you."
"That's the thing. I didn't ask for help. I would so gladly walk away but I'm not interested in fighting right now."
"You tried to hit me first."
"I wouldn't have tried to if you just let me go on. Your the one making things difficult here. Your the one holding me against my will."
"Your will? I'm saving you from yourself. If you go on that bike, you'll just be committing suicide."
"What makes you think that?"
"I don't know, maybe you missing the easiest punch one could give."
"I didn't miss. You moved."
"If you actually timed it right, you could've hit me square on my nose. I don't know what rank you are but you obviously aren't a 2." I say, slightly laughing.
"Really? It's funny because maybe I am." She gives me a serious demeanor.
"Deadass?" I stop laughing. "I think that confirms that at least something is wrong with you."
She scoffs as she fidgets with her hands, taking her eyes off of me. I pause, seeing a cut on her cheek. I try to ignore it.
"I'm Quinton," I hold out my hand, hoping she doesn't slap me straight on. "It seems best that we know each others names."
She looks at me with an eyebrow arched, but looks back on the road, cars passing by.
I sigh before picking up my gloves.
"We don't have to go to the hospital, but let me take you where you need to go. I don't think it's best for you to drive."
"You shouldn't be concerned. You don't know me and I'm not going to ride on the back of your bike like a...like a desperate pimp."
  "No ones going to think that."
  "And what about my bike. I'm not leaving it here."
"I can get a tow truck. It's not that hard." I stand up and hold out a hand for her to take. "Where are you headed?"
   She reluctantly takes my hand. I pull her up.
"Langford Drive. District 8 Training Center." She says. I look at her, hand still out. "What?"
  "Your name? I'd prefer to know it." I say smirking. She rolls her eyes before taking my hand. "Lena. There. Never thought I'd be shaking hands with a twat who hit me with his bike."
  She walks past me and picks up her helmet. It was basically useless with all of the scratches. I didn't even know she had fallen so hard to the point where most of her visor had broken off.
  "Great.." she whispers to herself.
"You can wear my helmet," I offer, "your brands better but..the passenger is required a helmet."
  "I'll wear mine. It's fine. I don't want to wear someone else's sweaty helmet."
  "It's not sweaty," I say, looking at my blue helmet.
  "Please. Everyone's helmet is sweaty. Doesn't matter the weather. It just is." She puts on her helmet. Immediately I can see her right eye. "This will have to do."
  I smirk, putting on my helmet.

  
   "No thank you?" I question, sliding up my visor.
  "Nope. Just a 'fuck you.'" She gets off my bike. "It's Fine because I won't ever have to see you again. That's the highlight of this."
  She flips me off before heading towards the doors. I do the same.