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Alicia approached the front door of Hard Times with a long-absent ease in her step. She had somehow slipped the noose and escaped the dental office at 5:01 PM, and now here she was, approaching the six concrete stairs up to the glass door entrance at a leisurely gait. She could see Sabrina and a tall woman with long red hair chatting by the front desk. Two checks fluttered in the almost-summer breeze in Alicia's hand, which had begun to show signs of new calluses.
Today marked two full months under Sabrina Irons' tutelage, and both teacher and student had been impressed by the progress. As Alicia had suspected, she had an acumen for the sport. The aspiring wrestler came away from each session bruised, sore, worn out, and more sure in her purpose. She had already replaced one bottle of ibuprofen; $4.95 plus tax well spent. A quick jog up the stairs and Alicia threw open the door.
"Hi Sabrina," Alicia exclaimed. She immediately wished she had read the room before announcing herself. From Sabrina's posture, Alicia could tell something was off. The scowl confirmed her suspicion.
Rarely did Alicia meet anyone near her height, but the athletic red-haired woman standing beside the front desk came close. She wore a smart, black business suit and heels, and her long, red hair had been done by a stylist who was clearly very expensive and possibly even French. She had fair skin and a classically beautiful face with high cheekbones, full lips, and her eyes were an extremely attractive distance apart. A couple stray scars marked her forehead and right cheek. She could pass for mid-30s, but a closer look made Alicia think she was probably about a decade older than that.
With a smile and a polite little wave and hopefully a break in the tension, the accidental third wheel offered her hand to the woman who carried herself like she owned the place. "Hi, I'm Alicia. I don't think we've met."
"Helene Rivera," said the woman shaking Alicia's hand.
"Hele- you own this place!" Alicia stammered. All her introductions lately seemed to go this way.
"Co-own," Helene corrected. "50.1%. I'm sure you've met Allen. As the one who actually wrestled in matches, I got the bigger half, so to speak."
"It's so nice to-"
Sabrina jumped in to squash the pleasantries. "Sorry, Alicia, we were just talking about something while we wait for Allen to get here." She made no effort to disguise that this was as diplomatic as things were going to get. "Go get changed and wait for me in there, alright? Minisha's working with Stacy in ring 2. Tell her I said to let you join whatever they're doing."
Alicia handed Sabrina the checks across the desk and excused herself to get changed with one more polite little wave. After a bit of an adjustment period, she had taken to the grip of wrestling shoes and could feel herself growing more comfortable week to week–and not just inside the ring. It was nice to recognize faces somewhere besides the office. She turned around to return a "hey" from a couple familiar faces before waving to Minisha, who was supervising Stacy running the ropes.
Of all the trainers Alicia had met at Hard Times, Minisha stood out for how unlike a professional wrestler she looked. Standing about five-six with a lean build and powerful limbs, Minisha resembled a gymnast more than a pro wrestler. The confusion would be understandable; Sabrina explained to Alicia shortly after she joined that Minisha had been an alternate for India's Olympic gymnastics team before changing sports to pursue a different kind of gold.
The trainer leaned through the top and middle rope to address her. "What's up?"
"Sabrina's got to talk with Helene and Allen," said Alicia. She immediately clocked Minisha's discomfort and worried Sabrina was about to be fired, but just as quickly as the flash of unease had appeared, it was gone. Minisha was keeping a good poker face, and that on its own was cause for worry.
"Everything's cool, right?" Alicia asked, prying without prying.
Minisha nodded. "Yeah. We're running ropes. I don't want Stacy running crossways yet, though. I know you're comfortable with it already, but I'm going to ask you to take turns just to keep everything safe. I don't want any traffic accidents."
"Stacy, why don't you-" Minisha paused and seemed to reconsider. "Actually, Alicia, can you show Stacy your form? I saw Alicia was doing the same thing a few weeks ago that we've been talking about: you're hitting with your back flush. These ropes can break, and you're not a small girl. That would not be a fun trip to the floor. I don't want you winding up in the hospital because I have seen it happen."
Being put on the spot to coach somebody else's student felt weird, but if Alicia was honest with herself (and she was), she had to admit the recognition felt good. Alicia stepped up to her fellow novice to demonstrate.
"You've gotten really good at falling back into the ropes, but you're kind of too good at it and now it's almost like you're showing off because you're able to do it so effortlessly." Alicia felt more uncomfortable as her instruction went on, like she was dying a little more with each sentence. The last thing Alicia wanted to do was show up Stacy, who was three months her senior in the program, but she also didn't want her training partner getting hurt. "You've got to control your momentum. If you're still hitting with your entire back, start the turn later. It feels weird, but you'll be there in time."
Stacy and Alicia alternated running the ropes until the sudden clatter of a heavy door slamming into cinder block announced Sabrina's arrival. All eyes turned in the direction of the racket as the fading echo gave way to eerie silence. Sabrina had a much worse poker face than her colleague, barely trying to hide her obvious displeasure as she casually stormed to the ring.
In the final seconds out of earshot of the approaching head trainer, Minisha threw her students a lifeline. "Follow her directions exactly."
Sabrina rolled into the ring. "Hey, Nish. Alicia, how's it going?"
Alicia hit the cables with her back and caught the top rope with both hands, dragging herself to a sudden stop. "Pretty g-"
"Did I tell you to stop?"
The curtness startled Alicia. She started running ropes again. "No. Sorry."
"Show me what you've learned," Sabrina commanded, giving her student a few feet of clearance.
Alicia's survival instinct kicked in, but not hard enough. She couldn't think of anything.
Sabrina didn't let up. "Then you must be pretty damn good at ropes by now. Show me." The trainer folded her arms and watched intently, commenting on her pupil's form with each rebound, "No. Nope. No. Minisha, you let her get away with this?"
Minisha jumped in before the mood turned completely, "Hey, Sab, it's alright. I'll take over."
"At least someone will," Sabrina muttered as she exited the ring under the bottom rope and left the gym with considerably less bombast than she arrived.
Concern turned to alarm at Minisha's next four words, "Alicia, you can stop."
The instruction had been so unexpected and jarring that Alicia nearly tripped over her own feet while trying to apply the brakes and nearly tumbled out of the ring.
Minisha let out a deep sigh of frustration. Whatever she was about to say, she didn't want to. "We should go out for drinks after this."
"Yeah, sure," Stacy answered suspiciously.
It wasn't quite the revelation Alicia had expected, nor her fellow trainee, judging from the look on her face. "Um, okay," Alicia replied. "I know a place."
* * * * *
For a drinking establishment calling itself The Evidence Locker, the atmosphere was a step higher than the standard Alicia had expected, which was quite low. The place felt busy for a Thursday night. The interior was moderately sized, housing three fairly large rooms, billiards, tables, and booths. The "fingerprint wall" patrons could pay five dollars to leave a signed thumbprint on was a nice touch, although it could have also been a sting operation.
She was looking for her housemate, but he found her first and called from behind the bar, "Alicia! Alicia, over here!"
The entire bar turned to look, although Robert remained blissfully unaware. Alicia felt her cheeks go hot as she threw him the politest, littlest wave as she approached.
"What're you doing here?" Robert asked.
"Hey! I'm here with some friends. We're over there at the table that's under the suitcase on the wall full of white baggies," she turned and pointed in the vicinity of the Illicit Substances Room. "This is where you work? It's cool. I like it. Have you worked here a while?"
"No! Not at all. Like four months. They don't let me do anything, so whatever you're going to order, please make it easy." Alicia could tell he wanted it to sound like a joke.
"I think this is an easy one: can I get a tequila sunrise, a Biir, and I guess a glass of water?"
Robert froze. "I actually don't know how to make that."
"It's just hydrogen and some oxygen," Alicia replied.
"Ha-ha," said Robert sarcastically. He looked a little embarrassed. "I'll find someone to make it and bring it to you?"
Alicia passed him the money in exchange for a glass of water and a bottle with an appealing black and white label. She looked at the clear bottle filled with clear liquid, recalling the Biir she tried in college when the bottling company first started making it. If there were a generic flavor called "candy," and the factory dumped out an expired batch into a vat of carbonated water and hand sanitizer, it would be Biir. It tasted like what sugarplum fairies might bleed. Her Hard Times friends sat at a table on the opposite the end of the room near the jukebox. Alicia took a seat at a barstool and handed the bottle to her training partner for the day.
Stacy pointed at the glass of water. "You know this is a bar, right? And you suggested we come here," she paused, like she was piecing something together. "Are you poisoning us?"
Alicia laughed. "Please. This is only step two of my plan." She gestured toward the bar. "He's new. He doesn't know how to make a tequila sunrise, and neither do I, so he's getting someone."
There was a pause in the conversation long enough to mean that small talk was over.
Minisha let out a sigh. "Please look at me. Nothing leaves this table. It's not bad, but it's something you definitely aren't supposed to know." She looked like she was struggling to decide how to start. Her audience couldn't help but lean in closer. "I wouldn't even be telling you, but it's going to affect you, Alicia, and it would be weird if I just invited her and not you," she said with a quick nod to Stacy. "I just want to stop any rumors before they can start. I mean it. No talking about this to anyone, okay?"
Alicia and Stacy nodded.
"Okay. I’ll start by saying Helene and Allen want Sab to retire from competition and run the school. Obviously, Sab doesn’t. She only agreed because they were going to bring in someone else to take over full-time, but the new head trainer they hired backed out at the last minute. I think Helene and Allen don’t want to keep looking when they already have the perfect candidate."
"Why doesn't Sabrina just say no?" asked Stacy before Alicia could.
"She wants to, but she can't, really. Sab got cut from the roster last year. She's technically staff. They still let her wrestle 'part-time,' but that really just means when they feel like letting her." Minisha held up two fingers. "Twice in eight months."
A hand and a glass joined the conversation unannounced. "Tequila sunrise," said Robert, handing Minisha her drink. "Hi, I'm Robert. We live in the same house," he said, pointing at himself, then Alicia, and then himself again. "Not together." A long silence followed. "So do you guys know Alicia from work?"
"Not quite," Alicia responded. "You remember I told you I was kinda getting into wrestling? Let's just say there have been some developments." She hit the brakes, waving off the distraction. "Look, sorry. The three of us just need to talk for a bit. I promise I won't leave without dropping by."
Robert gave a nod and a smile, fidgeting with one of his apron strings as he took a step back, unsure of who to make eye contact with while doing so. After far too much eye contact with everyone, he turned and sheepishly shuffled back behind the bar.
Stacy shot Alicia a smirk and pointed at Robert. "Are you-"
A look of surprise flashed across Alicia's face. "Wh- no. That's- absolutely not. No. He's nice. Nuh-uh." At some point, she lost control of the conversation. She threw the focus back to Minisha, "So why are you telling me this?"
A tight, complicated little smile crossed the trainer's lips. "Can I give you some advice? She's, uh- look, Sabrina's nice," she paused to consider her next words. "Just do what she says."
"Of course. I was going to, anyway," replied Alicia, chuckling a bit. Then came a realization. "Why? Hold on, why are you saying it like that? She doesn't blame me, does she?"
Minisha shook her head and spoke in a soft, reassuring voice, "No. No, Alicia, absolutely not. This is between her and Allen and Helene, and she knows that. I want you to know that she doesn't blame you." Slowly, the smile returned to Alicia's lips. Minisha continued, "But it's definitely going to feel like it."
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