“Quit,” the more experienced Veronica said, eyes heavy. “There’s a thin line between brave and stupid.”
Ava shook her head. Her lips trembling.
“Don’t make me do this. Please.”
“No.”
“Ava. It’s over. Quit!”
“No!” Ava shook her head again, shoulders shaking with emotion.
“Goddammit!” Nash screamed, backing away unsteadily, readying her stance, fists raised, seething. The ref checked both women, and the crowd roared for the final time just as he dropped his hand.
Ava held her breath and counted. Before she got to two, Nash lashed out with a sweeping leg kick. Everyone in the crowd saw it coming. Everyone knew she would attack the leg. But no one could’ve predicted the sight of Veronica Nash crumbling to the mat, flat on her back. Her nose split again and blood flowing from the middle of her face.
No one could’ve known Ava would deliver a blow like she did. How could they? It was obvious she had almost nothing left. Except one shot. One chance. So, while Nash went low, Ava went high. She leant back and, with all the energy she had left, cracked Nash with a head kick.
Nash hit the mat and stayed there. The ref spread his arms, ending the fight. Ava finally let herself sob as her legs gave way. She was only saved from hitting the mat herself by the boys catching each arm.
The crowd completely lost its mind; another champion had been crowned. Cameras flashed everywhere. The impossible had happened.
Ava kept hold of the boys, needing comfort and support. She couldn’t believe it was real, but it had to be, the official holding the gleaming championship belt had just entered the ring. Nash, though, had seen him and pushed her way through her trainers, snatching the championship belt away. Her face was a crimson mess as she looked down at the belt and several blood drops spilled onto the gold before she turned to Ava.
Ava could feel the boys tense as Nash approached, but just as she expected another strike, she found the belt placed over her shoulder and Nash’s arms wrapped around her, patting her head. Both women held each other, respect flowing from them just like the tears. Nash let her go and took a step back, starting to clap along with the entire building. The majority of people were chanting Ava’s name. Including her father, his face beaming as he clapped and cheered with the rest of the stadium.
For the first time in her life, Ava truly felt the love and respect for who she was and what she had done. But more importantly, she had grown to love and respect herself.
Epilogue
Epilogue - One MonthLater
Tanika Taniela stepped forward to meet her opponent, surrounded by steel and beyond that a hundred or so people in a sneering, jeering crowd. The ref dropped his hand, and Tanika was hit with a few stunted jabs. Then suddenly she smashed into the other fighter’s face. The force stumbled the girl around, weakening her legs. Tanika stood still, not bothering to raise her arms. The tactic, not shaping up, staring hard at the opponent, blood splattered all over her cheeks, appeared to work.
The crowd was cheering like crazy as Tanika beckoned the fighter closer, daring her to come forward. When she did, Tanika thundered two punches into her face she couldn’t stop. Her body hit the mat and barely moved as the fight was called. Tanika had barely moved her feet except now, to move out of the way as paramedics rushed into the Cage.
Tanika moved towards the back, flanked by no one. The only congratulations she received was through the otherwise vitriolic shouting.
“You crazy, ugly bitch!”
“Fuck yeah, cuz. Three hundred bucks here I come!”
“You better hope you take it up the ass or learn to wear a paper bag, you mutt!”
“Who took your place in the Rugby squad?”
“Nice trunks, babe, do they make them in women’s sizes?”
Tanika moved into the backstage area where she found the event manager, one she towered over. She accepted her winner’s purse without a sound and found her way to her locker. She flicked her eyes to and from the other women in the locker room. All gave her a wide berth yet were still comfortable enough to prance around with nothing on, taking selfies and even group shots, no doubt uploading them to social media to hundreds, if not thousands, of likes and shares. None of these women had Tanika’s record, yet they were all ranked much higher than her.
Tanika overheard them congratulating someone because the fighter’s rank had jumped two points due to her match ending in a draw that evening. She took a chance and looked on the same website, through her phone, where results and ranks were calculated in real time. Nothing. No change. No change in four victories.
Tanika didn’t have to wonder too hard why these other women were moving up in their divisions. Mostly were easy on the eyes. The decision makers in the MMA world were mostly men, and held to the old saying ‘sex sells’. Tanika was well over six feet tall and almost as wide as a doorway.
She had been fighting her whole life, for acceptance, for understanding. Most of her childhood people made fun of her ‘bell pepper’ nose, chronic acne and wild bushy hair. It didn’t matter how good she was or how many she put down. She was always passed by for better looking women. If she could only break into the professional ranks, she could advance on pure merit, but with no trainers and no financial help, she was stuck on the amateur circuit, fighting for a few hundred dollars here and there.
She swept the room with one last look of contempt before taking her bag and leaving through the back entrance. Rage made her strong and kept her focused. She knew in her heart she could beat anyone in that room, in that division. Hell, in any division.
She barged out the back door and headed for the taxi rank but stopped to study a poster on the back wall.