On The Court Pt 05

~~~~ Losing It ~~~~

And then I proceed to lose my mind. I spin around to confront the woman that has been tormenting me for about 90 minutes in this Hell on Earth Gym. Now I am screaming...

"50!! That is 50 you fucking bitch! You wanted this, well you got it!" although my voice is cracking and failing. I just about jump on top of her, acting like some lunatic as I stand over her body while she struggles to sit up. Where is all this energy coming from? Not a healthy place. Roaring down like I am a possessed demon, but feeling like a Warrior Queen all in the the same moment.

"I WIN! I beat you! You hear me!" Jabbing my left finger into her face as I tower over her. Monique attempts to get up but collapses onto her shapely ass, arms on her knees and her head bowing down. Her long black hair splattered all over her shoulders and back, but it can't hide the way her broad, strong shoulders begin convulsing in sobs. And what alter ego is this? Someone I never knew existed, at least not to this extent. A warm surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins and I am feeling no pain, no regrets, only pure victory. Pure triumph over my fallen adversary who is at my feet, sobbing in defeat.

"Who is the fucking Queen of this Court now? ME! That's who!" Making sure I lean down and get my face right up close to her head as I roar my power down over my defeated rival.

"Fuck off you cunt! Fuck you!" Monique screams back at me and then just buries her head in her hands, crying. Sitting there on her ass, naked, in a pool of her own sweat and tears. A part of me is enjoying that.

But all glory is fleeting. Warning signs ahead. I felt depleted again, so much so, I wasn't sure I could even walk straight, let alone make it to my bench before falling down. The room is starting to spin a little. Quickly I stagger over to the bench and sit down, lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

It is a few seconds before I am aware that I am also crying, along with Monique. I can hear her, and I know she can hear me. Perhaps our tears share some common bond for a few moments? Yes. I know we are sharing something now. The stress of competing against someone like this was unlike anything we have ever experienced. We waged a physical, mental, and psychological war against each other to our very limits. I was scared for my own safety and sanity several times. Right down to the last second we fought one another and are both totally spent. At some point her tears are clearly in mourning that her efforts came up short. Mine? In relief that I had emerged victorious over her. If the roles were reversed I surely would be weeping in defeat.

Emotions aside, our duel played out exactly as one should, in an epic battle to the very end. Not some lopsided victory. Unfortunately I get the feeling nothing would ever be the same between us again. Not that we had any great friendship anyway. But still...

Anyway, I start trying to pull on my sweat pants, then my sweat shirt. That is a joke. Inside out at first, then it kept getting stuck on my sweat coated arms and legs. It was like I didn't even know how to dress myself I felt so dazed-and-confused. Several tries later and I just give up for a minute, leaning forward holding my head in my hands, my elbows on my knees. My left hand fumbles for a half empty water bottle that I gulp down.

Lets try this again...Sniffing back my tears I manage to finish pulling on my pants and sweat shirt. Then begin to sort through all my other belongs, ultimately shoving them randomly into my gym bag, forgoing my normal meticulous process of how I usually do everything. So tired. So hungry. So thirsty. And the pain is creeping into every part of by battered body. Waves of pain. My slow going was two fold, one I truly am exhausted. Two, I waited to see if Monique was OK. Sincerely. She was moving a lot slower then I was. My normal self was back in charge and I watch her struggling. She crawls over to her where her gym bag is and slowly pushes her belongings inside. Fumbling much as I did to get dressed. Very somber, she would periodically stop, lean forward to bury her face into her folded arm on the bench, only to start crying again.

So I made an effort, making sure my tone was soft and conveyed sincerity, "Monique, I..."

"I told you to fuck off!" She snaps.

"Will you..."

"Leave me alone! Get out of here." The rage and hatred in her eyes closes the subject shut. I shiver and look away.

Head down I just start walking out of that damn gymnasium through the lockers and to my car. Correction, I am limping my way along. None of this seems real, oh it felt real, in every part of my battered body I feel it. But psychologically it is a moving target that I couldn't come to terms with yet. I am dreading what Monday morning will bring.

~~~~ Afterwards ~~~~

Monique was not at school on Monday, out sick. She was back on Tuesday though. The coach was not pleased. We both move and look like we had been in some kind of gang fight and our rambling excuses really didn't sound believable, but when it was clear Monique and I had no further comment on our physical conditions, he reluctantly drops it. But keeps an eye on the two of us for the rest of the season. And makes an effort to keep us apart when possible. I think he knew. We had 'had it out' with one another, in one form or another.

Our friends, and the school in general, had a hell of a gossip fest around what might have happened between us.

What little relationship Monique and I had before our game was now utterly gone. She would not even acknowledge me around school. It was like I didn't even exist. Our only interactions on the court and the team are so forced it is painful to experience and be around (More lectures from the Coach). I think she was waiting for me to announce what happened during our private game. "Bragging rights." She had said before our On Court Duel. Well, I never did go around bragging. I kept the game and the outcome to myself.

I suspect she would have damn sure gone around bragging if I had lost. Or maybe not? At least hold the threat over my head to some degree, just to torment me.

Oh, before I forget! We won the state championship. But it was bittersweet.

"What happened is just between us." I walk up to her and say quietly trying one last time. She gave me this cold stare and shrugs.

"Do what ever you want." Her reply as cold as her stare, and she walks away. That hurt me for some reason. I don't understand.

She left for UCLA on a scholarship and that is the last I will ever see, or hear from her.