The (Mostly) True Memoirs of a (Not-So) Average High-Schooler [The Fight]

Whelp. Its been another long day. Painful too. I got beat up. At church no less. We're nondenominational. ;) 

Kick started the day by waking up late, I like to get up at 6:30 sharp, and somehow, I almost always do. Today decided to be a rebel. I woke up at 7:15. So I rush to get the animals all taken care of, because church starts at 10, and it stinks when you miss ALL of the worship, which happens about half the time. I fianlly get them done, come inside, and find what has to be the worlds most detailed Playmobil (All Rights Reserved) zoo setup. It was impressive. Especially considering how they also all got themselves ready too right?  Course not. That would be convenient. 

Ah well, we pulled it all together and got to church at quarter after, which is really good. I must say it is really hard to go from molasses manager to worship in a 20 minute drive, even with all the practice I've had. It just doesn't quite come naturally. Soon as we get there I see a white van. Awesome. Today of all days. If you're wondering, that means Smiths are here, and that means Noah. Noah is a 15 year old, walking wikipedia of sarcasm, and, well, as we call him, an irresistable idiot, a nice kid. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate Noah. I mean, we are friends.... Sort of... But I was not feeling it today. You get the idea.

As predicted, after church, Sir Knucklehead walks up, grins, and asks, "So?" Man, he pulls off the smug look really well. Fine. One more time. If only to wipe off his obnoxious grin. Maybe I'll actually win for once. See, the Smiths only come about once a month because they live almost an hour away, and every time the do, me and Noah fight in the hall outside the gym. (We meet in a school. I'll explain later) So this time is no different. We throw insults, rip off our button-downs, and fight in our star-spangled tank-tops. Good stuff. Except, I lose. Every. Dang. Time. And I don't quit until I win. I suppose I'm wired that way. I'm not a sore loser either (I'm SUPER humble too), I just don't give up easy. And so we do our thing, over and over, time and time again. 

We go to our spot in the side-hall, beginning to circle, getting ready to start, preparing internally. He's defensive, light, quick, and relies on speed. I am wide, heavy(er), stronger by a tad, and rely on power. I throw a few punches (Torso punches are allowed) and wind him, taking advantage of this, I quickly got around to his back and headlock him. Then I slowly twist, bringing him down, but keeping my grip tight. Then he does something possibly illegal, and certainly unexpected... He rams his elbow into my chest. My grip loosens and he grabs my arms and escapes my hold. I am still trying to recover, as he darts behind me and does a trip/throw. Its brutal. I go down, and he takes advantage, pinning me, and I tap. Thrice. I'm out, he wins again. 

I grab my pocket-stuff I had taken out, and walk, or stumble rather, slowly, to our van. Breathing slowly as every breath hurts. He got me good. Real good.

Two hours later... 

Well I got a heck of a bruise, on one of my left ribs, right where I would guess my heart is, but I'll heal, and I must say, it was an epic fight. I remember now why I keep doing it. There is no other feeling like the thrill of a fight, the adrenaline, the excitement...The bloodlust*. Anyway, can't wait for next time. I'll know I will beat him someday and I like to tell myself I am a bit better. Besides, it was practice. Someday I want to do UFC, which takes a lot of practice, but this is the best I got right now. Plus, I'll sleep really well. Thanks Noah. Really.

zzzzzzzZZZZZZZZ 

*Thats totally a real thing. And no, it doesn't break any commandments.