punch him in the balls.
Luckily for him he realises at the last moment what I am going to do. So he doesn’t get the full force of my noodle arm. But he does crumple over and lie clutching his stomach. I get to my feet. Someone in the crowd is booing. Have I broken some rule? But someone else in the crowd catches my eye. He’s miming for me to kick Deon. I look at my opponent. It seems unfair to kick him while he’s down. Couldn’t we just finish it here? I look about for Rex. He’s talking to the pretty strawberry-blonde girl and has his back to me.
Umppff! Deon flings his arms around my ankles and yanks my legs out from underneath me. I crash down, crunching my shoulder against the ground so hard that I cry out. Deon doesn’t stop to wonder whether it’s ethical to kick a man when he’s down, he just lays into me.
All of a sudden I’m back in the corridor with those men, thinking that I’m going to die. But I survived that and I’ll survive this. I’m not going to die here. I’m not going to be forced into some dirty little brawl with a boy I’ve never even spoken to. I scramble to my feet and try to run for the door.
But he won’t let me go; he’s caught hold of the back of my shirt. I thrash wildly, trying to pull away from him. We veer so close to the front row of the crowd that I see some of them drawing their feet up out of the way. Deon is still trying to pin my arms down or to land a punch on me, but I just keep moving. I put my head down and thrust an elbow backwards into his stomach. There’s not enough power to really hurt him, but it makes him wobble backwards and trip over someone’s extended foot. He falls, trying to take me with him, but my shirt tears out of his hand.
‘Idiot,’ he says as he goes down and, as soon as he hits the ground, I throw myself on him. I kneel on his chest and smack him around the head as hard as I can. Then I hear the sound of the whistle and Deon pushes me off and stalks away. I try to stand up without letting anyone see how much I am shaking.
Rex appears and lifts my arm. I’ve won. I think Rex missed most of the action while he was chatting up the girl called Dom, so I’m not sure he’s best placed to make a decision, but still . . . I won. I feel almost pleased.
‘Not bad,’ says Rex. ‘You look angry now. You fight gooder angry.’
Damn right I’m angry. Nobody calls me an idiot. Especially in here.
My pleasure drains away as soon as I walk off. I can hardly move, I hurt so much. I’ve never been in a fight before and in the past few days I’ve been attacked twice. I’m tired and I realise that I really need to work out what I am going to do to get out of here. I head for the door, but I spot Ilex sitting a few rows back. He waves me over. I clamber between Specials and squeeze into a space beside him.
‘You’re not good,’ he says.
‘I don’t really care if I was good or not. It’s ridiculous,’ I say, ‘forcing someone to fight. I object to being treated like a stupid bull. Look at all this.’ I gesture to the room.
The next two competitors are up. Two girls. Surely they’ll be less aggressive? The whistle blows and the taller girl screams, ‘Take that, you tight-legger!’ and kicks the other girl in the face.
This is horrible. The Specials’ noise rises to a roar.
‘It’s bedlam,’ I shout to Ilex. ‘Where are the enforcers?’
‘No enforcers at fights.’
‘Well, I’m not doing it again.’
‘You have to. It’s gooder if you just let them win you in little time.’
‘We shouldn’t put up with this,’ I say. ‘Why don’t people say no to the Reds?’
‘You can’t fight the Reds.’
I turn to look at him properly and I realise that there’s a little girl of about seven or eight sat next to him. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder.
‘Who’s this?’ I say.
Ilex looks down at her and his face softens.
‘This is my sister, Ali,’ he says.
‘Hello, Ali,’ I say.
She stares up at
Luckily for him he realises at the last moment what I am going to do. So he doesn’t get the full force of my noodle arm. But he does crumple over and lie clutching his stomach. I get to my feet. Someone in the crowd is booing. Have I broken some rule? But someone else in the crowd catches my eye. He’s miming for me to kick Deon. I look at my opponent. It seems unfair to kick him while he’s down. Couldn’t we just finish it here? I look about for Rex. He’s talking to the pretty strawberry-blonde girl and has his back to me.
Umppff! Deon flings his arms around my ankles and yanks my legs out from underneath me. I crash down, crunching my shoulder against the ground so hard that I cry out. Deon doesn’t stop to wonder whether it’s ethical to kick a man when he’s down, he just lays into me.
All of a sudden I’m back in the corridor with those men, thinking that I’m going to die. But I survived that and I’ll survive this. I’m not going to die here. I’m not going to be forced into some dirty little brawl with a boy I’ve never even spoken to. I scramble to my feet and try to run for the door.
But he won’t let me go; he’s caught hold of the back of my shirt. I thrash wildly, trying to pull away from him. We veer so close to the front row of the crowd that I see some of them drawing their feet up out of the way. Deon is still trying to pin my arms down or to land a punch on me, but I just keep moving. I put my head down and thrust an elbow backwards into his stomach. There’s not enough power to really hurt him, but it makes him wobble backwards and trip over someone’s extended foot. He falls, trying to take me with him, but my shirt tears out of his hand.
‘Idiot,’ he says as he goes down and, as soon as he hits the ground, I throw myself on him. I kneel on his chest and smack him around the head as hard as I can. Then I hear the sound of the whistle and Deon pushes me off and stalks away. I try to stand up without letting anyone see how much I am shaking.
Rex appears and lifts my arm. I’ve won. I think Rex missed most of the action while he was chatting up the girl called Dom, so I’m not sure he’s best placed to make a decision, but still . . . I won. I feel almost pleased.
‘Not bad,’ says Rex. ‘You look angry now. You fight gooder angry.’
Damn right I’m angry. Nobody calls me an idiot. Especially in here.
My pleasure drains away as soon as I walk off. I can hardly move, I hurt so much. I’ve never been in a fight before and in the past few days I’ve been attacked twice. I’m tired and I realise that I really need to work out what I am going to do to get out of here. I head for the door, but I spot Ilex sitting a few rows back. He waves me over. I clamber between Specials and squeeze into a space beside him.
‘You’re not good,’ he says.
‘I don’t really care if I was good or not. It’s ridiculous,’ I say, ‘forcing someone to fight. I object to being treated like a stupid bull. Look at all this.’ I gesture to the room.
The next two competitors are up. Two girls. Surely they’ll be less aggressive? The whistle blows and the taller girl screams, ‘Take that, you tight-legger!’ and kicks the other girl in the face.
This is horrible. The Specials’ noise rises to a roar.
‘It’s bedlam,’ I shout to Ilex. ‘Where are the enforcers?’
‘No enforcers at fights.’
‘Well, I’m not doing it again.’
‘You have to. It’s gooder if you just let them win you in little time.’
‘We shouldn’t put up with this,’ I say. ‘Why don’t people say no to the Reds?’
‘You can’t fight the Reds.’
I turn to look at him properly and I realise that there’s a little girl of about seven or eight sat next to him. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder.
‘Who’s this?’ I say.
Ilex looks down at her and his face softens.
‘This is my sister, Ali,’ he says.
‘Hello, Ali,’ I say.
She stares up at
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