Good. You're Learning.

Simon gathered all the broken cinder blocks into a neat pile then sighed and went inside.

Suzanna sat at a table in the canteen with her hand in a bucket of ice, thinking about what just happened. Twice in two days. She had never been that angry at anyone. She'd never been that angry in her entire life and it was all because of him.

He apparently wasn't even the worst of the bunch and all it took was him mentioning her uncle to set her off. She buried her face in her free hand,

(Gah! What is his problem? He almost killed me and for what?)

She lifted her head with a sour expression.

(I can't believe I used to buy all his merch he's awful.)

She slammed her forehead on the table upon flashing back to a body pillow she almost bought, but didn't because Sarah would have teased her endlessly. 

(Oh man, how am I going to explain this to Sarah?)

She heard footsteps approaching her and looked up again.

(Oh geez, here he comes.)

"Ready for round 2?" Simon asked. She frowned and looked away. He put his hands on his hips and frowned as well,

"I'm trying to help here. Quit sulking and get up,"

She looked at him flabbergasted,

"You call what you did to me out there helping?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," He bent over to meet her at eye level, "Mouse,"

She narrowed her eyes, "Stop calling me that,"

"Or what?"

She crushed the ice in the bucket,

"I'm not playing your game,"

He cocked an eyebrow, "Game?"

"You're trying to get me fired by making me do something stupid," She accused,

He drooped his eyelids and smiled sarcastically, "Doesn't seem like you need help,"

He straightened, "If they fire you, they fire me. Why would I want that?"

She shrugged, "I-I don't know. You keep acting like you want to be h-"

"Because I don't," He cut her off with an intense glare that made her feel back, pulling her hand out of the bucket. He sighed and sat across from her,

"Listen. The sooner I turn you into a good wrestler, the sooner we part ways. That way I get the brass off my back, you get to chase whatever fairytale you're driving towards and everyone's happy," He extended his hand, "Deal?"

After hesitating for a moment she nervously accepted the handshake,

"D-Deal," She said. Her hand was still sore and his grip was very firm. She winced and tried to pull it back, but he wouldn't let go and continued to strengthen his grip. Her only option was to increase the strength of her own grip to match his, hoping to make him let go. He smirked,

"Good. You're learning," He released her and reached into his jacket while she rubbed her sore hand. He proceeded to pull out a brick,

"Now then, smack yourself in the head with this,"

Now it was her turn to droop her eyelids, "Okay, now I know you're messing with me,"

(Who the heck walks around with a brick in their jacket?)

He looked her in the eyes and hit himself over the head with the brick. The sound of concrete smacking a human skull made her cringe. She watched it break into about fifty pieces while he maintained perfect eye contact.

He then pulls out another brick to her added shock,

"Why do you have multiple bricks in your pocket?!"

"I was trained in a dungeon,"

Her skin went white, "That doesn't answer my question, and I really need that to be a metaphor,"

He held the brick with both ends of the brick and said, "I remember when the War Chief would hold bricks like this and take bites of them,"

(Don't change the subject!)

She frowned and dropped her gaze, "You said it yourself, I'm not like him,"

"But you want to be, I assume," He said, slightly pointing the brick at her. She didn't respond, so he continued,

"Pain is real, so is danger. Fear isn't," He put the brick down in front of her, "Especially when the source is beneath you,"

He stood up and said, "I'm going to get something to clean this up," before leaving.

She watched him leave, still massaging her sore hand, then looked down at the brick. Her heart was beating quickly. She reached for it, her hand shaking before pulling it back.

(This is stupid.)

She looked away from it. In the distance, she could Vités and Ramatla trading blows and holds in the ring. Their movements were quick and graceful. Alexa played the role of referee, while Tonye stood outside giving a few pointers. She could hear The Viking and Mostafa going at it with louder and harder shots.

All of them seemed to be giving it everything they had and they were clearly so far ahead of her in terms of skill. She looked at the brick again.

(He said he wanted to help me and he seemed serious...)

After a moment of further hesitation, she closed her eyes and grabbed the brick.

Simon came back with a plastic bag and a brush to sweep up the dust. Suzanna was still seated at the table with a hand over her bleeding forehead and the uncountable pieces of brick all over the table.

Her eyes were filled with tears and determination,

"What... next?" She asked,

He looked at her with raised eyebrows before smirking again,

"Good. You're learning,"