"You know," Ryan mused, "you’ve never suggested that you’d like me to go with you some day. That must mean you’re having a good time."
"I am," Jamie said. "I really am. I mean, I think I’d be having just as good a time if it was just mother and I, but it’s really nice to be in a place that means a lot to her and be able to do the things that she did when she was a little girl. After we got ice cream, we went to this really cool topiary garden where I could kinda remember going with my grandfather. It’s neat, Ryan–and I’d love to share it with you."
"Then I’d love to come. I’d be happy to go with you next year, Love."
"Well…" Jamie hesitated, not wanting Ryan to be hurt, but decided to be honest anyway. "Except for my cousin J.C., the family doesn’t know about you and me yet. I think I might have to get them comfortable with the idea before we showed up together."
"That’s cool," Ryan said easily. "You’ll tell them when it feels right. Not a problem, Babe."
Jamie let out a heavy sigh. "I love you so much, Ryan. It’s just so nice that you don’t get all bent out of shape over things like this."
"That’s probably because it really doesn’t bother me, Babe. I know you love me, and whether you feel comfortable talking about our relationship with others says more about your relationship with them than with me. It’s not a problem."
"Lord, you’re mature!"
Ryan chuckled deeply, making Jamie smile in reaction. "After three days of two-a-day practices, I feel very mature," she laughed. "Very, very mature. Downright ancient!"
"Ooh, are you all achy?"
"No, not too bad. We get massages whenever we want them, and that helps a lot."
Jamie’s thoughts flashed briefly on strong hands moving over Ryan’s body, then with an effort of will she returned them to formulating an acceptable response. "Really? How can they accommodate all of you?"
"Oh, there’s lots of people with us. Some of the student trainers from the other sports are down here too. It’s kinda training camp for them, too. They’re not as talented as you are, but it’s been helping to keep me loose. We also have a spa in the locker room, and a really nice outdoor pool. If you were here, it would be a nice week."
"My sentiments exactly," Jamie agreed. Checking her watch, she realized that Ryan was due at practice very soon. "You’d better get going, Love. Don’t want you to be late."
"Luckily, the gym’s close, and running will limber me up a bit. I’ll call you tonight, okay, Love? I don’t know when we’ll get back from the Boardwalk, and I don’t want you to wait around for me."
"You call no matter how late, okay? If I’m in bed, that’s all the better."
"Oooh… somebody wants a recreation of Monday night, huh?"
"Yeah…" Jamie’s most sultry voice made chills chase up Ryan’s back. "And this time I’m going to be sober enough to enjoy it!"
Jordan was sent as the emissary to negotiate with Coach Placer. Just after practice, 13 sets of eyes tried to act like they were not watching her approach the coaching staff to make their request. The conversation did not last very long, and when she returned to the pack, she shot them a discreet thumbs up, much to the pleasure of the entire group.
"Your negotiating skills must be excellent," Ryan praised as she draped an arm around her friend on their way back to the dorm.
"Yes, they are," she agreed, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "But in this case, they didn’t have to be. He thinks it’s a good idea for the team to hang out together, and Bob said he’d love to go too, so he’s going to drive us."
"Cool. Good job, Jordan."
"I live to serve," she drawled, meaning not a word.
Since they skipped dinner, the entire group was ravenous as soon as they entered the Boardwalk. The team trainer, Bob Nymoen, wanted to give the women time alone, so he informed them that he and Erin would meet them near the entrance at nine o’clock.
"Okay, guys," Jordan said, "let’s pool our money and buy two blocks of tickets for rides." She collected a few dollars from every player and got in line. "You guys decide what you want to eat while I wait in line here, okay?"
They conferred and decided that there were four votes for pizza, four for hamburgers, four for corndogs and two for Mediterranean. "I’ll go get our food, Jordan," Ryan said, since she and Jordan were the only takers for gyros and falafel. As she turned to leave, all twelve of her teammates stood in front of her, looking puzzled. "Um…do you guys want to eat tonight?"
Every head nodded, and Ryan decided that this was a group that was a little better at taking orders than making up their own minds. She quickly assigned tasks, pairing people up to go in search of their preferred fare. Four of the women were sent for lemonade, leaving the freshmen Cami Jackson and Heather Clark without a task.
"Okay, you two, you’re in charge of finding us a place to sit together. Can you handle it?" Both of the freshmen nodded without speaking, showing that neither was yet entirely comfortable with their imposing senior teammate. "Go get ‘em," she growled, smirking to herself when they scampered away.
"You are torturing those two," Jordan laughed. "They act like you’re gonna bite!"
Ryan looked a little embarrassed, deciding to admit what she had done earlier in the day. "I kinda yelled at them this morning. They were playing their stereos when I wanted to nap, and I think I freaked them out a little."
Slapping her friend on the arm Jordan said, "They’re afraid of you even when you’re nice, O’Flaherty! Don’t give them a heart attack!"
"I’ll be better," she grumbled, leaving Jordan to wait for the tickets while she headed off in search of gyros.
The line for gyros was long, and Ryan had only made it halfway to the window when Ashley came running up to her in a panic. "Ryan!" She grabbed the older woman by the shirt and started running back in the direction from which she had just come, tugging Ryan behind her.
"What in the hell are you doing?" Ryan yelled, prying the young woman’s fingers from her shirt.
"Heather and Cami! Come on!" Without another word of explanation, the frightened freshman took off again. Ryan ran after her, muttering the whole while.
Ashley rounded a corner and stopped dead in her tracks, nearly causing Ryan to plow into her. Ryan looked in the direction that Ashley was pointing and saw Cami and Heather sitting at a table with four young guys. Draping an arm around the young woman’s shoulders, Ryan said in a deceptively agreeable tone, "That’s very nice, Ashley. I’m very happy that Cami and Heather can pick up four surfers." Her voice changed to an implied reprimand as she growled, "Now can I go get my dinner?"
Ashley’s head shook violently, and she exclaimed, "Those guys won’t let them leave! They’re trapped!"
"Oh for God’s sake!" Ryan strolled over to the table, checking out the layout as she drew closer. The two freshmen were seated on heavy concrete benches on opposite sides of a large concrete table. Each woman was flanked by two men, who were --Ryan guessed--close to her own age. The guys looked a little scruffy, but not dangerously so. She decided they were probably local surfers or skateboarders who routinely hung out on the Boardwalk. She was well acquainted with the type of guy who lived for the beach, and she wasn’t very worried about this group, figuring they were just having fun with the young women.
Hoping for an easy way out, she approached the table in a friendly manner. "Hey, could you guys come help me carry the food?" she asked, addressing the women. "I can’t handle it all."
Both young women looked up at her with relief flooding their tense faces, and simultaneously they started to rise. But the young man on Heather’s right clamped a large hand onto her shoulder and pulled her right back down. As soon as he did so, one of the guys next to Cami did the same. "They don’t want to leave," the first guy said, a haughty smirk on his face.
Oh-oh, I think I underestimated these guys, Ryan realized, seeing the malevolent look in the eyes of the first speaker. Still trying to get out of this as easily as possible, she maintained her
friendly attitude, as well as the ruse, and said, "I’ll bring ‘em right back, guys. I just need a little help."
The first guy, who Ryan named The Mouth, shook his head firmly. "That one over there can help you," he decided, jerking his thumb at Ashley. "These two are staying with us."
Ryan nodded, shrugging her shoulders as she did so. "Okay, no problem. I’ll see you two later." She turned and walked back to Ashley, reaching into her pocket to extract some change. "Call the cops," she instructed just as Cami’s frightened voice called out, "Ryan, we don’t want to stay here!" Ryan shot Ashley a grin that she hoped looked genuine, and patted the frightened woman on the back as she pushed her in the direction of the pay phones. "Don’t worry. I can handle them." I hope.
Strolling back to the group, she casually perched on the edge of a nearby table, and looked around to see if anyone looked like they could help if she needed it. It was still quite early for dinner, and very late for lunch, and there wasn’t a soul around. The table seekers had chosen the most hidden spot on the whole boardwalk, which would have been fine for sitting together but proved not so fine for self-defense purposes.
Knowing it was best to keep the guys occupied until the police arrived, Ryan kept her appearance calm and unthreatening. Both Cami and Heather looked like they were about to pass out, and their fear filled Ryan with determination to keep them from harm. She looked at the four young toughs, trying to see how agile and muscular they appeared. To her disappointment, they looked pretty darned fit, with The Mouth fairly rippling with muscles. I hope they’re just for show. Maybe he doesn’t really know how to fight, she mused. Picking on young girls might just mean he’s a bully.
The spokesman for the group looked her over and said, "You can join us too, baby. There are plenty of us to go around."
"I don't think so," she said slowly, looking a little regretful. "I really wish we could, but we’ve got to eat and leave. We’re here with a tour bus and the driver’s going to come looking for us soon. We really should get going."
Narrowing his gaze to focus on Heather he said, "Fine. Go. But these two are staying with us."
Heather tore her eyes from the man’s voracious stare and gave Ryan an utterly piteous look. She looked frightened out of her wits, and as a tear rolled down the freshman's cheek Ryan concluded that she needed to take action before the police arrived.
She stood at her full height and folded her arms across her chest, flexing firmly against her breasts to enhance her muscles so they would seem as impressive as possible. "They don’t want to stay with you," Ryan said, leveling her gaze at The Mouth.
"That’s not for you to decide, Stretch. We decide who joins us, and we decided that we like her," he sneered as he slapped his hand onto Heather’s thigh causing a startled gasp to escape from her mouth. "Who the fuck are you to make her decisions, anyway?" he scoffed. "You her mom?" His friends found his humor absolutely hilarious, and they all laughed long and hard at his snappy repartee.
"No, I’m not her mom, but I know her pretty well. Heather," she said calmly, addressing her, "do you want these guys to leave?"
The young woman was so frightened that she didn’t even speak. She just nodded, wide eyed, her pleading look begging Ryan to make them go away.
You’re going to pay for scaring these two so badly, Ryan thought, but remained outwardly unaffected. "I suggest you get up and leave her alone. Now," she said firmly.
He turned to his friends and laughed heartily. "Think she's a dyke, guys?" he asked his friends as they all appraised her.
Her cold blue eyes moved from man to man, showing each that she was not afraid of them individually or together. "Why can’t people ever come up with anything more creative?" she asked rhetorically as she looked back to the speaker, a disgusted smirk on her face. "Is that comeback number one in the Idiot’s Handbook?"
"This one’s not a dyke, is she?" he asked, gazing intently at Heather. Ryan did not respond to his taunt; she merely stood a little taller and waited for his next move. Looking at his friends, he said, "I think I’m gonna have to test her out for myself." A nasty leer covered his face as his friends all hooted their approval of his plan.
Three people present didn’t think his idea was sound, but Ryan was the only one in a position to express her displeasure physically. His head had barely traveled an inch toward Heather’s lips before Ryan's strong hands latched firmly around his throat. She picked him up slowly; not having to lift all of his body weight since he willingly rose with her. The man had obviously decided that he rather liked breathing, so he followed her lead like a small puppy. When she had pulled him off the bench, she kept her hands right where they were, but eased the pressure a bit to let him suck in a few gasps of air. His friends had scrambled to their feet and warily regarded Ryan as they backed away from the scene.
Leaning close to his ear, Ryan asked, "Will you leave us alone now?"
"Fuck you!" he grunted, turning quickly in her grasp to wrench away from her. He stumbled a little, but got to his feet quickly, grabbing onto one of the tables for balance. One of his more cowardly friends approached Ryan from behind, but she sensed his approach and launched a precisely executed flying kick, landing it square into his stomach. The "ooof" that escaped was painful even to hear, and the other two men backed up even further, deciding to let The Mouth take care of the rest of this battle.
With one man on the ground, holding his gut and gasping for air, Ryan got into a well-balanced fighting stance, her weight evenly distributed so that her opponent could not read her intent. Sensing another of the men approaching, she started to turn, only to catch sight of long blonde hair. Coming up to stand next to Ryan, Jordan quickly took in the situation and asked, "Want me to hold your cape for you, Super Girl?"
"How are you at kicking ass?" Ryan asked, keeping her eyes fixed on The Mouth as he started to circle her.
"After you," Jordan demurred, giving her an exaggerated bow. "This face is too precious to serve as a punching bag."
"Nice to have your support," Ryan called, moving slowly to keep tabs on her opponent.
By this time all of the rest of the team had gathered, most of them standing behind Jordan. Ashley had called the police, who were obviously in no hurry to mediate such a small a dispute, which meant that Ryan was pretty much on her own. Luckily, the man that Ryan had kicked finally got to his feet and wisely decided to retreat, taking one of the other two with him. Of the remaining twosome, only The Mouth seemed like he wanted to fight. His friend just hung in the background, looking around to see if anyone was going to come to the aid of the women.
"Think you’re pretty tough, don’t ‘cha, Butch?" The Mouth asked, an unattractive sneer contorting his features.
"I do all right," Ryan agreed, as they continued to circle each other, deciding that showing him her most confident side was the prudent move. "Ask your friend who’s probably blowing chunks right about now."
"Fuck you," he growled, making another lunge for her. He engaged her in a wrestling move, grabbing both of her shoulders as he leaned in close. His head was nestled right next to hers as they grappled, and she realized this was not a style of fighting that she could prevail in. He was stronger than she and nearly as tall, which gave him several advantages. But Ryan’s mind was working the whole time, plotting angles and running through moves that could disable him enough for the women to get away.
Without warning, he released her and reared back to deliver a knee-weakening slap right to the side of her face. Even though it was a physiological impossibility, Ryan could feel smoke coming out of her ears. Slapping is just so…so…chickenshit, she fumed, deeply insulted by such a weak move.
He had backed up just a bit to deliver the smack, and that was all of the room that she needed. Her right knee came up quickly, catching him right in the solar plexus. As the air left his lungs, he doubled over in pain, and that’s when she drew her hand back and returned his slap with significantly more force than the one she had received. The sha
rp sound that accompanied the blow made every one of her teammates gasp, and as the helpless man fell to the ground his friend took off, running towards the growing crowd on the boardwalk. "Slap me, will ya?" Ryan spat, kneeling on his shoulders to hold him in place. "Nobody picks on my friends," she fumed. Now that she felt able to let her anger show she was shaking all over, the image of her young teammates quaking in fear still very fresh in her mind.
Just as she got him under control, the police arrived, nightsticks waving. They paused as they took in the sight of this large, muscular woman kneeling on the back of an equally muscular, but quite docile man. Brushing past the other members of the team, the police grabbed Ryan, pulling her arm up against her back to render her helpless. "Hey! I’m the one who called you guys," she complained.
"We’ll get this sorted out in a minute, lady," the officer assured her. "Just hold your horses."
"Could ya ease up on the pressure there, officer?" she asked as politely as she could manage. "That’s my spiking arm!"
After a few moments of discussion, the officers allowed the women to depart, assuring them that they would remove the man from the premises. No real harm was done and none of them wanted to press charges, so they watched in silence as the police removed The Mouth, then everyone but Ryan started to talk all at once. Looking over at Jordan, Ryan patted her stomach and said, "Kicking ass always makes me hungry. Can we eat now?"
Over dinner the inquisitive teammates grilled Ryan and Heather and Cami about what had happened. Both freshmen were still pretty shell-shocked, and neither was very forthcoming, so Ryan answered as many questions as she could.
"I’ve never seen anybody look so calm in a fight," Ashley said, still wide-eyed over the events she had just witnessed. "How could you stay that calm, Ryan?"
"I’ve had a lot of training in martial arts," Ryan allowed. "Staying calm is absolutely essential to protect yourself. There’s not a trick to it," she insisted. "Its just part of my training."
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