• 12 •

Oh, the pain! A constant, dull throbbing in the right half of the skull with embedded stabs of searing focal twitches in between. Great.

I flutter open my eyelids but immediately squeeze them shut again when I realize that the sun’s trying to kill me.

Damn, my bladder’s screaming. Maybe the desire to void goes away when I ignore it hard enough?

Half an eternity in hell later, I force my eyes open again. Oh, stinging pain behind the eye apples, that’s something new.

I sit up and swing my legs out of bed. A wave of nausea washes over me, but I manage to breathe it away.

When I look around in my room, I immediately could puke again. Yah, sure, harmless sit-ins we do at one of the others’ apartments, a full grown bender we do at mine. Maybe burning down the dorm would be the reasonable alternative to cleaning up.

I scuff into the bathroom, carefully avoiding the glasses, bottles and whatsoevers on the floor. After relieving myself, I decide to play hardball. I drop my clothes and take a shower. I allow me only cold water. My first impulse is to jump out but I stand firm. My headache grows even more vicious when the cold makes my circulation get going, but soon it fades away to a nasty background feeling.

When I step out of the bathroom and slip into fresh clothing, I feel much better. I do stocktake. Okay, it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.

I notice a pile of clothing near the sofa and suddenly recognition strikes me. Hard.

“Alex?” I ask low-voiced. He’s nowhere to be seen. I crouch on all fours, ignoring the newly enraged pang in my head, and peer under the sofa, the bed and everywhere else a tiny guy might fit under.

Nothing.

Oh my gawd, where can he be? The stupid moron hasn’t tried to go home all alone last night, did he?

I just can’t remember. Shit, how tanked have I been last night? Remember, Kim, get your memory going!

I recall that David wanted him to bow down and kiss his boot as an apology. Alex made a huge fuss about it, but finally yielded to everyone’s pressure and did it – under much acclaim. The next is somehow cloudy but I also remember seeing Alex trapped under David’s sole. Not badly, more like in a Tom and Jerry cartoon.

Wait, he’s been kissing everyone’s shoes! Yeah, right, someone reminded him that the stake was to be everybody’s bitch and then we made him kneel down before every single one of us and kiss our shoes.

Crissie poured Whiskey into the bottle cap and handed it to Alex who sat on the floor, comfortably leaned against Crissie’s sneaker. Yes, at some point the shrunken Alex was no longer the centre of attention but just another group member.

After that, I can’t recall much. So far, so good. But where is Alex right now?

Another touch of panic I have to fight down. I’ll find him and he will be just alright!

With renewed focus I start to clean up. In less than an hour I’m through and I slump down on the sofa. Immediately fatigue grips me again.

A knock on my door makes me jump up, indicating that I’ve been fallen into slumber. I open the door and an outrageously fit Crissie walks in.

“Hi, sweetheart!” she proclaims, a shining smile splitting her face. “I came to help you tidy up, but I’m late, it seems.”

“Awww, what a pity! Poor you.” My irony is mordant, but she just shrugs it away and grins at me.

“Nasty hangover, hm? I sure wouldn’t want to trade with you. Haven’t you packed, yet?” She looks around in the room. I just stare back puzzled and shake my head. “You and Leah are going to that training camp this afternoon. Remember?”

Death and damnation! The Grayson’s training camp we’ll spend the first half of the semester break – I simply forgot that. Blasted booze!

“Of course I do! I usually do my packing late.”

“Sure you do. I just wanted you to resize Alex before you leave. Though it’d be fun to have him around dollsized for some time, I fear that 5 weeks without a sign of life from him might bring a lot of trouble to the scene.”

So he’s with Crissie. That takes a load off my mind!

“Sure. Is he at your room?”

“No, I have him here.” She reaches into the pocket of her light summer jacket and takes out Four-inch-Alex.

“Hey, I was just about to take a nap! It’s like a cozy hammock in there and your petty blather is somnific like Valium.”

Crissie and I look at each other at Alex’ brazen complaint.

“On the other hand, maybe I should leave him like that and you teach him some manners the next five weeks.”

“Nah, that’s exactly why I wanted you to resize him. If I had him around me all the time, I’d swat that annoying lil’ jerk like a fly within hours.” Crissie emphasizes sourly.

“Maybe that would be just proper.” I adopt her tone but have to chuckle.

“Alright, ladies, I got your point.” Alex tone is more bugged than rueful, but that’s just how we know and like him.

“Put him down.” As soon as Alex is on the floor before Crissie’s feet, I add: “Last chance to smush him underfoot like a bug.”

“Nah, I’d never ruin your cleaning by smearing something that yucky on the floor.” Crissie’s eyes are sparkling while she looks down on Alex, despite her words.

“As you will!” With a shrug I focus on Alex and a few seconds later he’s standing back at common size.

“Thank you!” His stately tone along with a gracious nod perfectly mock the fact that he’s nude. Crissie and me giggle as he takes up his clothes and puts them on seemingly unruffled.

“Excuse me now, I feel like I have to go where even kings go by foot.”

“What did the two of you do last night?” I don’t even try to hide my expectancy.

“A true lady never tells!” Crissie mocks Alex former noble tone.

“You are no true lady!” My cheerful remark again makes us both giggle.

“Not much, we were drunk and tired and fell asleep soon. I can’t recall much, either.” I sense she fibs about that and hides something, but I won’t press the point this morning. Let them have their kinky secrets.

After Alex is out of the bathroom, we all go out to have breakfast. Much to my amazement, the subject of my special abilities doesn’t come up even once. Any eavesdropper would deem us three completely normal friends and fellow students and it strikes me that it’s exactly as I would have it.   

When we’re finished, Alex takes his leave after a thorough goodbye. Crissie and I walk back into my room, where she sits cross-legged on my sofa while I pack my baggage. We gossip and have a fine day until it’s time for me to leave.

Again, Crissie accompanies me to the gym. Leah is already there, her baggage already stowed away in the back of a van. We greet and then bid an expansive goodbye to Crissie who stands and waves as we drive off.

In the back of the van, my tiredness strikes again. I close my eyes as I lean back.

“I reek alcohol and pot and fatigue. Did you have a wild night?” Carl Grayson asks while driving, his eyes locked on the road. Leah and I cast each other a quick, guilty look. We await a sharp reproof, but Kimora turns towards us, smiling sympathetically.

“Hey, that’s okay. You’re young and zestful and you want to have fun. There’s nothing wrong with it. I’d be disappointed if you wasted your youth solemn as a judge.”

Relieved, I drop back in the seat. I take out my phone and call Marc. I told him a few days ago that I’d be away in a training camp for a few weeks and we had our goodbye yesterday. Nonetheless I call and tell him that we’re on our way.

Then I close my eyes again.

The next I consciously notice is the sharp jerking that nearly throws me over to the left. Leah’s hand pushes me back into an upright position.

“I’ve been wondering how you could sleep at this ungodly swaying. This road is a nasty ride!” Leah chuckles, holding herself in place with hands and feet. I copy her conduct and clutch to a handle.

“The house is pretty remote in the mountains. The last few miles are an ordeal, but we’re almost there.” Kimora explains, sitting astonishingly steady in her seat. Her body tension must be immense!

About twenty minutes later we turn into a large clearing. The lakeside house is a large, rustic log lodge. Along with two outbuildings it outlines a large inner yard with a fireplace and a platform that looks like a dance floor. And I know what dance we’ll perform there.

Five of the guys from training are already there, relaxing in the sun. When we dismount, there’s a lot of greetings.

“You two share a room in the upper floor. Get your stuff, I’ll show you.” Kimora leads the way into a midsize, cosy room. We unpack and check our cellphones. Not surprising, we have no signal out here.

“Come down here! And hurry, this is no holiday club.” Carl’s baritone rumbles from downstairs. Leah and I laugh but hasten to get outside.

The men are sitting around the wooden platform, one of them standing on it, eyeing in our direction. Carl and Kimora await us.

“First fight. You start, Kim.” Carl says plainly. I’m puzzled, didn’t expect this so soon barely after the arrival.

“Okay, I’ll quickly go and change into something more suitable…”

“No. You need to learn how to fight no matter what you’re wearing, no matter the time, the environment or the weather. That’s why we’re here. You’ll fight in every single piece of outfit you brought with you.” He points at the podium, a stern look on his face.

I step on the wooden floor and my opponent immediately charges at me. I manage to step aside and deflect his attack, if only just, then hop back two steps. I nearly stumbled when my flip-flop shifts under my foot. These damned things are impairing me, better kick them off. When my opponent again closes in on me, I get an idea. I slide halfway out of my sandal and indicate a kick. As expected, he relocates his defence downwards. Indeed I kick, yet I don’t aim to hit him, but release my flip-flop and fling it into his face. He reacts quickly and slaps it aside before it hits. That’s exactly what I intended, the split second of distraction and his open low guard is all I need to kick his crotch hard. He groans and stumbles, his momentum carrying him closer to me. I adjust my stance and yank up my knee, driving it with all strength between his legs, too. He doubles over and it’s child’s play to direct him around me. His head at my belly level, I reach back for a downward strike. Using my whole body mechanics I punch hard at him, driving my knuckles against the rear of his mandibular arch just below the ear. I hear and feel a distinct crack as my fist hits home, then a sharp pain races up my hand, wrist and arm. My opponent slams face first onto the wooden floor like a felled ox. My arm still burning with pain, I’m about to stomp the man’s head to make sure he stays down. But he’s out cold, blood flowing from his mouth, so I step back and leave him be.

“That was quick and effective.” Carl says from behind me. I turn around and face him. “How’s your hand?”

“Obviously it’s been a mistake to punch like this. What could I’ve done better?” I massage my right hand to get rid of the dull throbbing inside.

“There is no sure formula how to fight. You downed him within seconds, so success proves you did right. Yet you’d be handicapped if there were a second opponent. I suppose, reflex took over and you performed well, altogether. Pretty creative fancy, to use your flung sandal as distraction, by the way.” He slaps my back approvingly as I sit down and hands me a cold compress from a cooler.

In the background, Kimora leads two men carrying my unconscious opponent into the outbuilding. Should I hope that I didn’t injure him gravely? I just feel pride, though, maybe a bit of chagrin for having harmed myself. But I feel neither pity nor regret. I guess I should feel sorry for him. By my estimation, I broke his jaw, the cracking was fairly obvious. And still – nothing.

On the fighting area, Leah is wrecking another of the guys. She’s clearly superior and takes the time to play with him. I acknowledge his tenacity to get up again and again, though Leah is dealing out some harsh punishment. At some point he can’t go any further. Leah approaches and scrutinizes his prone form, then she lifts her foot and drives her heel forcefully deep into his stomach. He folds up as Leah steps down full weight and carelessly over him. She sits down beside me, a pleased smirk on her face.

“You could have taken him out in a fraction of the time you took. It’s good to see that you had your fun with him. Be aware, though, that I might send in further opponents when I get the impression that you become cocky.” Carl’s review hits home and Leah agrees, but I know her like I know myself and I see she’s bursting with mischievous delight.

“Follow me!” Carl rises and starts to jog down the way. Leah and me face each other and join him. My sandals in hand, I quickly realize that I have to adjust my running form deeply when running barefoot. The compacted ground is much more smooth and comfortable than expected, but the tiny stones prick my soles all the more unpleasantly.

The unfamiliar style of running wears me out surprisingly quick and soon I have that distinctive stinging in some uncommon muscle regions. Leah puffs and wheezes beside me, equally strained. This 3-mile-run is nothing compared to our usual workload, but when we arrive back at the house, both of us are markedly exhausted.

Carl attacks me immediately, while Leah gets confronted by Kimora.

After just a minute my lung burns horridly. My movements are sluggish, even more so since some painful blisters evolved under my feet. Carl attacks continously and I receive several painful hits. The speed and agility, this huge man reveals, are beyond belief. His strikes are straight and powerful. My only chance is to dodge and evade, every time I block I get hit by my own limbs from the sheer force. When I finally manage to counterattack, he grabs me, whirls me around and throws me aside like a puppet. I’m so exhausted and pained that I’m tempted to remain lying down, but when I see Carl tramp towards me, I know he means business. My attempt to jump up results in an awkward stumble, yet when the huge man strikes at me again, I still manage to put up a fight.

Kimora and Carl switch positions so quick, I hardly manage to adjust my approach. From the corner of my eye I see Leah being in trouble, too. Kimora challenges my skills completely different. Her amazing suppleness results in most unexpected attacks. A few times I run straight into them when evading other strikes that are just feints or – even more astonishing - strikes she changed the direction while performing them. I suffer several painful blows before I change my tactics to blocking with quick counterattacks. Nonetheless, the relentless assault depletes my last reserves. I lurch about, my field of view narrowed to a tunnel vision and I realize I’m about to keel over.

This moment Kimora steps back. One of the other men takes up her position. He wastes no time but engages immediately. I note his inferior technique, but the graveness of his attacks reveals his intention to knock me out. My current condition keeps me from doing much more than defending myself weakly. The guy bashes and kicks at me. Sensing his pending victory, he grins smugly. Anger wells up in me, a tingle in my stomach soon growing to a burning rage.

I’m ten times better than him and I won’t let him bring me down! Let’s see how his grin will fade when I squish his shrunken, sorry ass in my fist!

My wrath activates my last energies. I take a solid stance and vigorously block his next punch. He uses his momentum, crashes in me and drags me to floor, thus disrupting my concentration. Fuming with rage, I grab his head and press my thumbs hard on his eyeballs. He screams and tries to pull away. This is just the impulse I need to hurl him around, slam him to the ground and straddle him. With all strength I can muster, I thrash my elbow into his face, twice, thrice.

I barely feel that hands pull me off him. The adrenaline fades and takes away the mantle that hid my true state from my consciousness. I’m exhausted far, far beyond my limits, my joints aching, my muscles burning and my body hurting from the countless bruises I received. I topple over.

At least the hangover is gone.