Chapter Twenty-Nine

I fidgeted in the black mid-thigh shorts and the gray t-shirt with blue trim that SHOCKS provided for exercise. There was no reason for the tag to be itchy! Li Mei clearly thought the same thing; she kept adjusting her sports bra and pulling on her shoelaces. Only Sam looked comfortable as we walked out of the locker rooms.

“Luciole, the left side of the room is for Magical Girls to train while not transformed. The right side is for transformed Girls to test their limits,” Bentley said.

I stared at a pair of Reds in their uniforms doing weighted squats on the right side. The bars almost bent from the stacks of plates on either end, and the girls grunted and strained as they pushed themselves up, rep after rep. Other Girls waited with barely-concealed impatience for their turns.

Some Girls ran sprints, little more than streaks of yellow or orange, as they did lap after lap around the gym. Others swam, kicking off the lap pool’s walls hard enough to shoot halfway across before coming up racing. I looked at the swimmers mistrustfully; I knew how to swim from school, but not well.

The right side, by comparison, seemed empty. A few girls in the same workout clothes as we wore stretched on a padded mat, and others followed a girl with blue ribbons in her hair as she led them through a routine.

“This way. We’ll grab some mat and stretch,” Sam said. “Stretching is important.”

“Only if you’re over here,” one of the girls on the floor said as she reached for her toes. “Over there, you just use your mana - if you have high Agility, you don’t need to worry about strains and pulls.”

I watched as Sam pulled an arm across her chest, then copied her motion. My shoulder burned. I backed off a bit.

“So, Sam,” Candice started. She dropped onto her back and reached her hands above her head, choosing not to pull her shirt back down as it rode up to show her stomach. “How’s your deer boy?”

“His name’s Connor, or Points, and he’s alright,” Sam said, grinning. “He’s from East Sooke. Fifteen, so he’s a touch young for me, but he’s funny. You?”

“Roger is perfect. Listens when I ask for something and tells me what I want to know.”

I dropped to one knee, still following Sam. I could see Li Mei next to me doing the same thing.

“And you, Li Mei? How’s your dear boy?” I could hear the tone in Candice’s voice shift - she knew something.

Sure enough, Li Mei flushed. She looked at her feet, refusing to meet Candice’s look. “Charlie? He’s…okay.”

“Okay, eh? That’s not what I’ve heard. Sam, tell us what you heard.”

Sam glared at Candice. “I didn’t tell you so you could bug Li Mei.”

“I don’t care. The world deserves to know the truth, dammit.”

Sam kept her glare up for a minute, then dropped her eyes as Candice stared at her. “She told Charlie something really loving before she went to sleep,” she whispered.

“I did not!” Li Mei stood up, beet red and fists clenched. “I was…I was talking to my dad.”

She stomped off toward the back of the gym. Sam glared at Candice the same way I was glaring at her. And Candice stared back at us, a smug expression on her face. “How about you, Alice? Got any feelings you need to get out in the open?”

“Screw you, Candice,” I said. I stalked off to follow Li Mei. I looked back to see Sam, obviously torn between following me and staying with Candice. She shook her head and turned around to keep stretching.

I found Li Mei punching a bag over and over. She grunted with each punch and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. Two girls watched her as she beat the punching bag, faces shifting between amusement and concern.

One of them saw me and turned. “I’m Waverly. Is she on your team? She really shouldn’t be training when she’s worked up.”

I nodded. “We’re having some team problems. Li Mei, you okay?”

“I’m.” She punched the punching bag again. “Fine!”

“You, uh, don’t sound fine.” I paused. How much of this was my responsibility to fix? “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She swung again and missed, tripping on herself and ending up on the ground. Tears poured down her cheeks as she covered her eyes with her hands.

The girl who hadn’t talked to me cleared her throat. “What usually helps me when I’m upset is fighting!” I could see that; though she was tiny, her muscles rippled under her shirt, and a pair of freshly-scabbed cuts on her face attested to fighting something recently.

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Waverly glared at her. “Patricia, no!”

“Patricia, yes! My Operator figured out I like breaking stuff, but violence was getting me reprimands and stuff. The rest of Omega Lily’s Operators sat down and looked for solutions. So now, when I’m upset, I go spar!”

“I’m begging you, Patricia, don’t beat up the new girl!”

Patricia touched Li Mei’s shoulder. “How about it, new girl? Wanna spar? You can pretend I’m all your problems for a bit.”

Li Mei pushed the big girl’s hand off her shoulder. For a second, I wasn’t sure whether she’d attack Patricia right there or refuse. But she nodded slowly as her hand dove into the shallow pocket in her shorts and pulled out her sanitizer. “Yes, I’ll fight you. Sanitize some sparring gloves, and get a pair of clean socks. I need to go change.”

I followed Li Mei back to the locker room. Inside, she pulled out a ball of white polyester and ducked into a changing stall.

“You don’t have to fight Patricia, Li Mei. She’s not your problem, and I don’t think it’ll help.”

“You’re wrong. It will help. And it isn’t a fight. It’s just practice.”

I sat on a bench and waited, my thumbs twiddling nervously. After a couple of minutes, Li Mei opened the door and walked back out. I followed her.

She was still wearing her workout shirt and shorts, but underneath, she’d covered every centimeter of her arms and legs with a white long-sleeve shirt and leggings. White mid-calf socks covered her feet. She strode out toward the gym and the sparring mats.

“Do you need your sensory suit for exercise?” Candice said. Li Mei ignored her, and she and Sam followed us to the mat.

“I’ll call the spar,” Waverly said. She glanced at Patricia. “Stop when I tell you to.”

The two girls put on thin boxing gloves and nodded to each other. Li Mei’s glare could have bored a hole in the smaller Patricia.

“Start!”

Li Mei moved, rushing the smaller girl and throwing a series of punches that Patricia could barely block. Her fists pounded against her opponent’s gloves and forearms in a staccato of pops and whumps. Patricia’s arms barely moved back after each hit, though.

Li Mei launched another series of punches at Patricia. This time, the smaller girl danced back, ducking under the blows. Off-balance, Li Mei couldn’t block Patricia’s cross punch. It caught her in the chin and staggered back.

The two girls sucked in a breath or two.

“I hope Pixie doesn’t hurt your friend. She’s usually in control, but not always,” Waverly said.

“Wait, Pixie? That’s Pixie Punch?” I asked.

“Well, yeah.”

Li Mei blocked as Patricia launched another punch, this one an uppercut. She let the blow spin her body clockwise, lifting a leg and snapping her socked foot toward Patricia. The kick caught her on her shoulder, throwing her to the ground.

I saw Waverly raise her hand and open her mouth to stop the fight. Then Patricia - Pixie Punch - winked at her and grinned.

My jaw dropped. Was Pixie throwing the fight?

As Patricia got up, Li Mei pressed her advantage in a whirl of kicks and punches that had her backing around the sparring mat. A kick sailed over Patricia’s head. She dipped inside Li Mei’s reach, rapidly throwing two punches. Both hit Li Mei’s stomach.

Li Mei backed off, coughing to force air into her lungs, as Patricia threw punch after punch. They circled each other, looking for an opening.

Li Mei’s foot flashed up. It caught Patricia in the calf. She toppled over onto the mat.

Li Mei's fist sped toward her face as Patricia tried to get her feet back under her. It stopped a bare inch from the smaller girl’s nose. She looked down at her opponent, fire in her eyes.

“Stop! Spar’s over!” Waverly ran onto the mats and grabbed Li Mei’s wrist. She flinched, her eyes shifting onto Waverly as they kept burning.

Then, the fire went out.

“I’m sorry,” Li Mei mumbled. She looked like she wanted to help her opponent up. Instead, she fled back to the locker rooms.

Sam and Candice stared for a moment. Then, Sam whispered something to Candice, and the two headed off to use the weight machines.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Patricia snarked. She popped up off the ground like she hadn’t just been in a fight; like she hadn’t been kicked in the shoulder and slammed into the mat. “I hope that makes your friend feel better. Usually does for me! What’s your name?”

“Uh, Alice,” I said.

“No, your name. The rest of your team is white, but you’ve got a red look. I’m Pixie Punch.”

“Luciole.” I stuck out my hand, and we shook. Her grip was like a vise, and I winced. “I need to go check on her and make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, you go do that. Waverly and I are always in here, so if you ever need the stuffing beat out of you, come find me!”

Li Mei wasn’t in the locker room. The locker she’d put her clothes in hung open, abandoned. I changed quickly and hopped on the elevator.

The door to Team Z-4’s suite hung open. Inside, I could hear the shower running and some music blasting from the bathroom. Li Mei’s voice sang along with the music, but I couldn’t understand the words.

“Li Mei, you okay?”

The singing stopped, and the music turned off. “Alice, is that you?”

“Yeah.”

“Give me a couple of minutes. I need to get clean.”

I sat on the couch and waited while the music turned back on, and she kept singing. After five minutes or so, the water stopped. Another five passed, and Li Mei came out, her jet-black hair soaked and plastered to her head.

She flopped down in an armchair with a flushed face and a big smile. “I hadn’t sparred in months. Years. There was a little school for fighting back in the Walled City, but you had to sign up for slots weeks in advance.”

“You like fighting, then?” I’d pegged Li Mei for a support or healer, but this was new.

“I used to. I don’t want to touch my enemies anymore.”

“Well, why don’t you take a dip in your pod and ask Charlie to take you to Mme. Baudelaire’s? You could probably build a uniform that lets you fight and protects your skin.”

“That’s a great idea! Thanks, Alice.”

When Candice and Sam returned, we were in our rooms. I was deep in my sensory tank, reading Morrison’s poetry and out of Candice’s sight.