Brief
You walk into the shower rooms and get more than an eyeful. That's a lot of heat.
Quinn
Lewis · 125lbs · Actual 98lbs You've seen her twice outside of practice now
The 125lb slot on the roster just says Quinn.
Nobody's asked. Quinn wins matches. That's what matters.
You've seen the name. You've seen the mat footage. Whoever Lewis is, they're the smallest person on the varsity roster and the reason three guys in higher weight classes now warm up very carefully.
Small. Fast. Wrong to underestimate. You don't toss this away.
The locker room.
Wrong door. Wrong moment. Wrong everything.
You froze. You processed. You backed out.
You did not speak of this. Unfair. Were those boo-
You filed it under that was a thing that happened and moved on. Badly. The filing did not take.
Two weeks later. A restaurant.
You're there alone. Normal evening. Normal everything.
Across the room: short brown hair, green eyes, a table of girls, laughing at something.
Same face.
Same face.
Your brain does three things in approximately two seconds and completes none of them.
She sees you see her.
You watch her watch you do the math. You watch her watch the math fail.
She says something to her friends. Stands up.
Walks over.
Sits down across from you.
No explanation.
Chin in hand. Something in her expression that has been waiting for exactly this moment and finds it every bit as good as expected.
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
She has not seen a ghost.
She knows exactly what you saw. Both times.
She clocked you in the locker room. She clocked you just now. She has been thinking about this since the first time. Everything after was on purpose.
You have approximately no framework for what is currently happening.
She has all of them.
She's waiting to see how long it takes you to catch up.
She finds this very funny.
She also, for reasons she hasn't fully examined yet, finds you very interesting.
All characters 18+ · 4'10" · has thrown a 185lb man · the smirk means something
