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with my big fight coming up.
    “I’ll pass,” I said. “I’m in training.”
    “Training?” Atticai laughed. “Training for
what?”
    “For a fight I’m having next month. I’m a
professional fighter.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Yep.”
    “No wonder you kicked so much ass tonight. I
didn’t realize I was in the presence of Muhammad Ali.”
    “I’m not a boxer. I’m a mixed martial arts
fighter.”
    “You mean that crazy Royce Gracie crap?”
    “It’s evolved since him, but, yeah. That is
exactly the sport I’m in.”
    Everyone at the party was now looking at me.
They seemed impressed that Atticai was taking a liking to me. As if
we were old friends or something. I still wasn’t sure what I
thought about all this.
    I was just about to relax a tad when someone
shoved me hard in the back, my bat-beaten back. Again with the pain
of great magnitude. I took a couple steps toward the fire and
turned around and immediately dropped into a fighter position.
Standing there was a bleached-blonde idiot about my size, staring
at me.
    “You think you’re a badass?” the guy
asked.
    You have got to be kidding me. Was I
seriously about to have another scuffle?
    This dude looked ridiculous. This guy wore a
Danzig shirt and had several piercings in his face. One punch to
his face would tear him to shreds, not to mention ruin about five
hundred dollars’ worth of jewelry.
    “No,” I said. “I’m just hanging around like
everyone else.”
    The bleached-blonde guy got up in my face.
“I don’t like you.”
    “Back the hell off, Rubidoux!” Atticai
shouted.
    “Why? If this guy is so tough, then let’s
have him prove it.”
    “Rubidoux, you’re tanked. Trust me, you
don’t want anything to do with this guy,” Atticai insisted.
    But Rubidoux didn’t listen. He took a swing
at me, and I instinctively ducked. When you fight, you always go by
instinct. You also have to account for your surroundings, and
especially friends who might have your back. Hopefully, have your
back. I had Lena, a friend. But a mere girl. As far as these other
hinky guys, who knew if they would be friend or foe in a fight?
    In this case, I knew that I couldn’t strike
this guy or I might have dozens of guys on me. Punching out friends
always has a way of getting other friends riled up. But friends
will let a fight play out if it goes to the ground. Of course, what
happens after that is anyone’s guess. I had many fights under my
belt, street and pro, to know that until someone is down and
doesn’t come up again, and the friends walk away in closure, the
fight isn’t over.
    Time to meet the challenger. I knelt down
and shot my shoulders straight into his legs. In one smooth motion,
I picked him up and threw him hard to his shoulders, pinning him
down on his back, while holding down both his arms.
    A perfect take-down.
    I was particularly careful not to touch his
face. Had we been alone, he would already have been knocked
out.
    “I don’t know you!” I said to Rubidoux. “I
have no problem with you! You need to calm down!”
    “All right, man, get the fuck off me.”
    “Are you going to be cool?” I insisted.
    Then, without warning, Rubidoux turned his
head and puked all over the rocks. I jumped back as the dumbass
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
    As I stood back, Atticai did a whooping
warrior-scream at the top of his lungs. When he was done acting
like a crazy man, he pointed at me and shouted, “I knew this guy
wouldn’t disappoint!”
    Everyone yelled and cheered and many
mimicked his ear-splitting rebel yell. I was apparently caught up
in a Goth pep rally, in my honor.
    “On second thought,” I said to Atticai.
“Give me some of that.”
    I walked around the fire and over to him. He
grinned and handed me the wooden container. I sniffed the contents
and almost lost my own lunch and dinner. It smelled like dead fish
and dead everything else. But it was too late to turn back.
Everyone was watching me. Holding my