saw what happened. Colt looked at me, and he started losing, just like before!”
“He’s going to forfeit if you’re not back!” Zero grabs my arm and starts to drag me to the doors.
I dig in my heels. “What are you talking about?”
“When he saw you weren’t there at the end of the second round, he called off the fight.” Zero tries to force me to move forward.
“He can’t do that!”
“He did!”
I run for an entrance door. But when I jerk on the handle, it’s locked. All the doors are shut tight.
“Over there!” Zero points at a security guard at a far door.
We race toward him.
“We have to get in!” Zero shouts.
The security guard leans against the wall, his belly hanging over his heavy belt. He has an attitude, I can tell from the jut of his chin.
“No in and out,” he says, all matter-of-fact. He sneers like he’s looking forward to us challenging him.
Zero is beside himself, his hands smashed to his head, flattening what little buzzed hair he has. “But the fight! Colt’s going to throw the match without her!”
The guard straightens his cap. “Haven’t heard that one before.”
I pull out the backstage pass. “I’m Colt McClure’s girlfriend. He’s apparently stopping the fight until I come back.”
He doesn’t even glance at my pass. “Everybody claims to be somebody’s girlfriend. Doesn’t make it true.”
My fury starts to rise. I’m angry at myself, for leaving before the match actually ended. At Colt, for stopping the fight over me. At this guard, for being a total jerk. I try to stay calm, but it’s not going to last much longer.
“I don’t know if it’s true either.” I point at Zero. “For all I know, he’s making it up.”
I gesture at the guard’s walkie-talkie. “Can you just check and see if the fight has been stopped? If maybe I ought to go back in?”
Zero paces in circles, wrapping his red scarf around his fists like he’s going to jump the guard or break the glass in the doors, or both. I’ve never seen him so worked up.
The guard pulls the walkie-talkie from his belt. “James,” he says into it. “James, are you there? Over.”
My chest is tight enough that it’s hard to breathe. I try to relax. I don’t know if what Colt has done is allowed in MMA regulation, or if they’ll just forfeit him suddenly. It’s not like pro wrestling, where publicity stunts are normal and expected.
He may not have much time. It may already be too late. I peer through the glass of the door. It looks like a whole group of people are racing down the hall that encircles the arena.
They’re all wearing matching shirts.
“This is James,” a voice sputters from the guard’s speaker. He sounds out of breath.
I recognize the shirts now. It’s all the ushers. They are dashing into doorways, heading into bathrooms.
They might be looking for me.
I bang on the glass.
“Is the fight still going on?” the guard asks.
One of the ushers spots me through the door. He points at my hat. I guess Colt gave them a description. Several of them come running.
The walkie-talkie sputters. “No, no, we’re looking for a girl with blue hair in a knit hat.”
The guard looks down at me. “Well, shit,” he says.
But it doesn’t matter now. The ushers blow through the door and drag me inside.
We don’t go back to the arena entrance I used before, but the first one we come to.
When I appear, the people near the aisle start to cheer, a roar that spreads like a wave across the crowd.
By the time I make it back to the front row, the whole coliseum is screaming and stomping. Colt has his back to me, and the ref is at the side of the cage nearest the judges, shouting something at them that no one can hear. I’m hoping it’s not to end the match.
Mulligan is in the opposite corner, screaming at the announcer and shaking his fists.
Finally, Colt turns around. His face is shiny with the gel that covers cuts. But he’s standing. He sees me and starts to cross
“He’s going to forfeit if you’re not back!” Zero grabs my arm and starts to drag me to the doors.
I dig in my heels. “What are you talking about?”
“When he saw you weren’t there at the end of the second round, he called off the fight.” Zero tries to force me to move forward.
“He can’t do that!”
“He did!”
I run for an entrance door. But when I jerk on the handle, it’s locked. All the doors are shut tight.
“Over there!” Zero points at a security guard at a far door.
We race toward him.
“We have to get in!” Zero shouts.
The security guard leans against the wall, his belly hanging over his heavy belt. He has an attitude, I can tell from the jut of his chin.
“No in and out,” he says, all matter-of-fact. He sneers like he’s looking forward to us challenging him.
Zero is beside himself, his hands smashed to his head, flattening what little buzzed hair he has. “But the fight! Colt’s going to throw the match without her!”
The guard straightens his cap. “Haven’t heard that one before.”
I pull out the backstage pass. “I’m Colt McClure’s girlfriend. He’s apparently stopping the fight until I come back.”
He doesn’t even glance at my pass. “Everybody claims to be somebody’s girlfriend. Doesn’t make it true.”
My fury starts to rise. I’m angry at myself, for leaving before the match actually ended. At Colt, for stopping the fight over me. At this guard, for being a total jerk. I try to stay calm, but it’s not going to last much longer.
“I don’t know if it’s true either.” I point at Zero. “For all I know, he’s making it up.”
I gesture at the guard’s walkie-talkie. “Can you just check and see if the fight has been stopped? If maybe I ought to go back in?”
Zero paces in circles, wrapping his red scarf around his fists like he’s going to jump the guard or break the glass in the doors, or both. I’ve never seen him so worked up.
The guard pulls the walkie-talkie from his belt. “James,” he says into it. “James, are you there? Over.”
My chest is tight enough that it’s hard to breathe. I try to relax. I don’t know if what Colt has done is allowed in MMA regulation, or if they’ll just forfeit him suddenly. It’s not like pro wrestling, where publicity stunts are normal and expected.
He may not have much time. It may already be too late. I peer through the glass of the door. It looks like a whole group of people are racing down the hall that encircles the arena.
They’re all wearing matching shirts.
“This is James,” a voice sputters from the guard’s speaker. He sounds out of breath.
I recognize the shirts now. It’s all the ushers. They are dashing into doorways, heading into bathrooms.
They might be looking for me.
I bang on the glass.
“Is the fight still going on?” the guard asks.
One of the ushers spots me through the door. He points at my hat. I guess Colt gave them a description. Several of them come running.
The walkie-talkie sputters. “No, no, we’re looking for a girl with blue hair in a knit hat.”
The guard looks down at me. “Well, shit,” he says.
But it doesn’t matter now. The ushers blow through the door and drag me inside.
We don’t go back to the arena entrance I used before, but the first one we come to.
When I appear, the people near the aisle start to cheer, a roar that spreads like a wave across the crowd.
By the time I make it back to the front row, the whole coliseum is screaming and stomping. Colt has his back to me, and the ref is at the side of the cage nearest the judges, shouting something at them that no one can hear. I’m hoping it’s not to end the match.
Mulligan is in the opposite corner, screaming at the announcer and shaking his fists.
Finally, Colt turns around. His face is shiny with the gel that covers cuts. But he’s standing. He sees me and starts to cross
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