Chapter 8: Moments

Kaitlyn's POV

The rest of the week passes in a blink compared to the night and morning I spent alone after Warren's fight with Will. We're back to how we behaved with each other before, but even closer and more open and relaxed. We've silently agreed that I won't yet let Layla and the others know about our early lunch socialising, and Will seems either oblivious or indifferent, which suits me fine. At least he hasn't just tossed his friends in favour of his new Hero class cohort. He still eats with us when the others are released for lunch. We'll see how long that lasts though; he barely joins in the conversations, not at all with me, and packs up real quick to go to the next lesson when the bell goes.

For now though I'm just enjoying things being fixed between me and Warren. Even my hands seem to be healing quicker; my handwriting is slightly more untidy than usual – not that it wasn't untidy to begin with – but I can actually hold a pen and write without my bandaged skin slowly cracking apart like a seismic fault line. So, sat working on a Strategy and Tactics essay while waiting for the others to be released for lunch, I find myself dancing slightly along to my iPod. I don't even notice I've closed my eyes until I open them and catch Warren staring at me. The corner of his mouth tips up, following his eyebrow. I sheepishly remove an earphone.

"Having fun?" he smirks.

"I'll have you know that I am, so you can stay there and be boring while I keep having fun."

He shakes his head in amusement. "What are you even listening to?"

"Solo Dance."

"Oh, Martin something? The dance track?"

"Right," I grin. "Hence the dancing."

He rolls his eyes. "Alright, I'm curious now; what else have you got on there?"

I practically sprint round to his side of the table, dropping myself in the seat beside him, holding my iPod so we can both see the screen. Only when I look up to start speaking do I take in his bewildered expression.

I turn sheepish again. "Sorry. Music is pretty much my life, so when someone asks to see what music I listen to, I get pretty excited."

"No kidding." He gestures to my iPod. "Okay, show me what you got."

I grin as we both turn to the screen. "So I usually have it on shuffle so I get a good mix of everything, so I'll just skip through some tracks and you'll get a feel for it."

He shrugs easily, and we both turn to the screen.

"Okay, Justin Timberlake, Katy Perry, Snow Patrol, nothing I hadn't expected…. Thirty Seconds to Mars, good choice…. Huh, Shinedown, nice…. Oh, Daughtry are awesome." He smiles at me. "Okay I'll admit, your music tastes don't all suck."

"You're too kind," I make a face at him.

"A lot of these I've never even heard of, though," he points to the track we'd stopped on. "Like who's she?"

"You don't know Lindsey Stirling? Oh, you are missing out! Let me describe her in two words." I hold up my fingers. "Dubstep…"

"Generic," he interrupts, shrugging.

"Violin," I finish.

"…Huh."

His look of surprise makes me chuckle. "Here, let me show you one of her more badass pieces. Roundtable Rival is one of my favourite tracks to listen to when I'm feeling particularly awesome. I really think you'll like it."

He raises an eyebrow at the offered earphone, but takes it anyway. "Alright, I'll trust you."

Despite wanting to pause and savour those words for the next few hours, I eagerly select Roundtable Rival and watch Warren's reaction carefully.

The song is awesome and powerful pretty much right from the start, and I practically bounce in my seat as his eyes widen, impressed. A small smile starts to appear as the drums add a steady beat of danger, and the electric guitars only build another layer of badass. It's not long before I'm bobbing along, more subdued than I normally would so I don't disturb Warren's earphone.

It ends suddenly, boldly, and I study Warren's face, almost buzzing in excitement. "And…?"

His wide eyes and small open-mouthed smile remain frozen on his face for a good few seconds before he shakes his head slightly and replies:

"I have never heard anything like that before. That was incredible."

"Want me to make her even more awesome?" I smile knowingly.

"Can you?" His tone betrays his enthusiasm to proven wrong.

"She dances while playing things like that."

"Holy shit."

"I know, right?! She's one of my favourite artists!"

"I'm not surprised."

Our moment is shattered by the bell ringing to signal the start of lunch break for Hero Support, and the end of our scheduled time alone. I try not to let myself feel too disappointed, and focus on the camaraderie we share in this moment.

"Well, I'm definitely checking out the rest of her stuff on Youtube tonight. I'll let you know what I think on Monday." Though small, Warren's smile is as warm as his knowing gaze.

I grin and nod enthusiastically. "We can compare favourites."

"Sounds good." He gestures further into the cafeteria. "You should grab some seats before the rush."

"Good idea. See you later."

"See ya."

One last wave to Warren once I've gathered my stuff together, then I make my way to a table nearby. When I take a seat, I stick my earphones back in and put Roundtable Rival back on, setting it to repeat before focusing again on my essay. I don't even notice the goofy smile on my face until the others take their seats around me.

"I've never seen someone so happy about homework, especially an essay," Magenta smirks once my earphones are out. "Except maybe Ethan."

"But there's so much you can say in an essay!" Ethan's eyes sparkle behind his glasses.

"So what's that one about?" Layla asks.

I smile as I put my stuff away. "We have to choose three from a list of powers and write about their potential strengths and weaknesses and how we'd combat them."

"That actually sounds really interesting," Layla gives her smile that feels like a fire on a winter's night.

"Yeah, I'm having a lot of fun with it," I nod enthusiastically.

"Well, Strat and Tacs is your favourite subject, right?"

"Like the nerd you are," Zach grins, his barb obviously in jest.

I hold my hands up in defence. "Please, I prefer the term 'intellectual badass'."

Our laughter may sound small in the cacophony of the cafeteria, and may not fill the whole room, but it fills every corner of my chest. And that's what I call a superpower.

ЖЖЖ

Then again, the warm fuzzies aren't quite as effective in a fight as the more traditional superpowers.

I wince in sympathy as one of Speed and Lash's victims hits the arena wall and falls heavily to the floor. They don't even bother getting up for the last four seconds of their defeat; they just lie on the floor, slumped under the weight of the blood-thirsty cheers of most other students and the fateful shredding noise as the citizen is torn apart as mercilessly as their self-esteem. The gang and I share a look of despairing disappointment as the two villains arrogantly bask in their conquest. Almost sickened by the sight, I avert my attention to the notebook in my lap. I've been bringing it to each PE lesson for about two weeks now, so I can write down any observations of the fights I watch in order to read back over them and learn from what I see. When the others saw me doing this, they asked if I could feed back to them and explain my conclusions.

"So, once again, you can see the lack of teamwork. When they were right next to each other, Amy saw that Lash was about to trip Jacob – she could have kicked his arm away or caught it or even called out a warning – but she just stood there. She tried to get up close to Lash, which is good though; he seems to rely too much on his powers, so his close-range combat actually looks pretty weak –."

"– And Rivers!"

My breath freezes in my throat, and I have to force myself to not succumb to a coughing fit. I whip my head back around to the arena, praying that I don't have as much of a deer-in-headlights expression as I feel I do. I'm not sure my prayer was answered, given the smirk on Lash's face, his finger unmistakably pointing at me. All the air within ten feet of me drops several degrees as my dread properly takes root. But the longer I pause, the wider Speed and Lash's grins become, so I take a deep breath and stand up, avoiding everyone's gaze as I make my way down to the arena. Turning away from my opponents to select my gear, I try to ignore their grating snickers as I pick the second smallest set.

As I adjust the shoulder pads, I finally raise my eyes, hoping to meet one specific pair. Immediately his almost-black gaze enfolds me like a velvet blanket. He sits with his arms folded, as usual. Anyone else who might even look at him would think he's as disconnected and disinterested as usual too. But I see past all that, I see the tiny changes that no one else knows; how his eyebrows are slightly closer together, the tension in his shoulders, how his fingers clutch slightly tighter at his arms. His concern reflects and magnifies my own, and I swallow forcefully through my frozen nausea. His face softens. Movement of his right hand catches my eye. Slowly, surreptitiously, keeping his arms folded, he brings his hand in front of his arm into my line of sight. As I watch, he curls it into a fist and gives it one barely perceptible shake. So as not to draw attention, I drop my gaze, but not enough to hide my small smile from him. As I turn back to the centre of the arena, I nod once, and hope he realises it's for him.

Energised by Warren's gesture, I have enough confidence to scowl at the forlorn expression on my teammate's face.

"Don't give up before the fight's even started, Ryan. If you're not going to try then we've definitely lost. I can't take them both on. I'd really appreciate an ally."

Ryan gapes at me as it dawns on him that I'm actually serious about this fight. But maybe the fire in my eyes catches in his just enough to chase away the darkness of defeat.

"Okay," he nods, his voice small. "Okay."

I smile at him in what I hope is reassurance. I can understand his apprehension though; Speed and Lash must have picked him specifically because his powers are at a disadvantage. Being able to climb walls isn't really helpful when the arena walls are only eight feet tall and one of your opponents can just reach and drag you off it. But as long as Ryan keeps fighting, Speed and Lash still have to deal with both of us, not just one.

"Alright, you two, you know the drill," Boomer drones. "Three minutes to defeat your opponents and save the citizen. Ready, set, battle!"

Though I try and keep close to Ryan so team attacks would be easier, Lash wastes no time in spinning and dragging me away, and almost immediately a sharp pain on the soft and vulnerable part of my shoulder tells me that Speed has entered the fray. My forearms instinctively come up to protect my head, so I grunt as they take the brunt of my backflip fall on the hardwood floor.

Just more bruises, I think through gritted teeth. Nothing you haven't felt before. Get yourself together.

Nearby rushing sounds make me scramble to my feet before Speed takes the opportunity to run over my arms or fingers. But my haste to get up makes it harder for me to find my balance quickly. It's easy for Speed to strike by my ear and send me flying face first into the arena wall. Colours and lights dance in my vision as the arena sways and blurs, and I shut my eyes and take a moment to shake off the dizziness while also desperately trying to think of a way to beat Speed and Lash. It's hard enough doing that normally in the heat of battle, but trying to also think through the lingering throbbing stars is like wading through treacle.

My eyes snap open, suddenly clear. That's it.

I practically jump to my feet, frantically trying to catch sight of Speed. No way can I focus on just him quick enough before he darts somewhere else though.

Fine, the whole arena it is.

Praying that I'm not interrupted, I strain my powers out to the edges of the arena, pushing through the headache that comes on to make sure every inch is covered. Okay; I'm ready.

"Ryan!" I call out, my voice reedy. "On the wall now!"

I can only hope he climbs the arena wall rather than stays on the ground in confusion at my command; I have no time or spare mental capacity to check. Immediately after my cry to Ryan, I bend down and place the back of my hands on the floor, as if I were picking something up. I then clench my eyes shut and pull my hands upwards, victoriously savouring the strain I feel, the evidence of my power. Students' cries of wonder are just about audible over the rushing and crashing around me. Even as cold water drenches and covers my sneakers and rises almost instantly halfway up my bare shins, I keep my eyes closed. Only an exclamation of surprise and slight panic to my right makes me open them, and luckily just in time. The water had slowed Speed's feet down, but his upper body had kept his previous momentum. The sight of him tripping forward gracelessly into the water, his beautifully startled expression smacking hard against the surface, is one I will relish for the rest of my life. Before he can recover, I sweep my hands round, carrying a vast amount of the water in the arena – and Speed – and freezing it all to the arena wall. After winking at his shocked face through the ice, I swipe my finger down slightly to give him a little breathing hole, then turn defiantly back towards Lash.

Roars and cheers combined with Lash's stunned and furious expression make for one of the proudest moments of my life so far. He recovers enough to sneer at me and Ryan as my teammate jumps from the wall and grins at me.

"You'll pay for that, little bitch," he spits, "for even thinking you're better than us."

I don't have time to think of a retort before the smirk is wiped off my face as he propels his fist into my stomach, knocking me back a few feet and emptying my lungs of air completely. I try to roll backwards as I hit the ground, like I've seen on TV, but it's clumsy. Clumsy enough that I don't even realise that Lash is reaching for me again before I feel myself being dragged back by my ankle, scrabbling uselessly at the smooth wet floor before my shoulder cracks against the arena wall.

"Dammit!" Ryan shouts under his own attacks. "We need to stop him hitting us!"

I tactically decide that snapping "No shit" would be a waste of everyone's time and energy. But actually, he's got a point; Lash won't hit something he doesn't want to hit. I smirk, staring down the fist now winding its way to me. A moment before it reaches me, I flick my right hand forward from my side, and I'm suddenly encased in a floating cocoon of ice. Lash's fist crunches into the wall, and he draws it back with a cry, not doubt at the small but sharp spikes with which I covered the outside of the wall. Before Lash can change targets, I give Ryan the same protection, but feel the strain behind my eyes after using my powers so aggressively.

"I can't keep this up long. Find a way to save the citizen!" I call to my teammate.

Ryan wastes no time and immediately races to the edge of the spike pit. He steps and stands right at the edge of safety, on the raised rim, straining to reach the citizen but not overbalance while I concentrate on keeping the ice out of his way but still keeping him protected. But the mannequin remains out of Ryan's reach. The edges of my vision start to blur, and something runs out of my nose.

"Come on!" I growl through gritted teeth, spitting the blood out of my mouth.

We both try our best but it's just not enough; my reserves run dry. A sharp burst of pain in my head stabs at the same time as my vision tunnels, and my body crumples to the floor. Shattering rings around me as my makeshift shields fall along with my powers. Maybe half a second passes before I'm pulled across the floor by my hair. I struggle weakly, still disorientated. The bitch-slap across my face doesn't help with getting my bearings. Nor do the echoing chants of students reaching the end of the countdown. My sight clears up just in time to see the citizen get shredded, and to see Lash to break Speed out of his icy prison to celebrate with him and mock me and Ryan.

We were so close, I lament.

Cheers continue to echo from the stands as Speed and Lash revel in the applause, strutting around like there is no other place they could be other than on top. Speed even kicks some residual pieces of ice, mostly aiming for me. I just stay on my knees and stare at the ground, not even flinching when some of the pieces hit me. My fingers twitch against the ground as a high-pitched whine grows in my ears. A fizzing scrapes across my scalp and slowly consumes every inch of skin, and my muscles clench.

We were so CLOSE!

A wordless scream rips out of my mouth. I slam my fist into the ground, and my power erupts, fuelled only by frustration and rage. A cacophony of crunching explodes around me, but who the hell knows what happened because I just keep glaring at the floor that didn't break under my fist. My panting breath hisses through my teeth and the ringing in my ears continues through the sudden silence of the gym. I stumble harshly to my feet and storm out of the arena, angrily ripping the protective gear off and hurling it in Speed and Lash's direction.

That could have been my moment. To prove to them, to myself, to everyone, that I'm worth something, I fume. And I wasn't good enough.

Already back in the changing rooms, I aim a ferocious kick at a locker, feeding on the pain that pulses through my foot. Smacking a few things for good measure on my way, I stomp into the toilets and yank the tap on, throwing water carelessly in my face. My breath gradually slows, and I eventually glance up in the mirror. A bruised, wet, angry girl glares back at me, ocean blue eyes hard and flashing, brow set in determination. I nod in recognition.

This isn't over.

ЖЖЖ

Warren's POV

Damn. I mean…. Damn.

I had been already itching to jump into the fight when it had barely even started. Now, watching Speed – the f**ker – kick some of Kait's own ice back at her as she's just kneeling vulnerable on the floor has me almost spitting. What I wouldn't give to shove a piece of that ice up his ass.

Then a scream slices through the air. I've not heard this scream before. I heard one like it, when Kaitlyn dropped to the floor in pain in the cafeteria. But this one…. This one silences the whole gym. This one makes me pity the poor bugger it's aimed at, makes me believe in the whole 'blood turning to ice' poetic crap. As I watch her in concern and confusion, Kait brings her fist up and cracks it against the floor painfully. Before I have time to frown in sympathy, the ground bursts; around nearly half the arena sidelines, where the Plexi-glass panels had stood, is now a wall of ice nearly ten feet tall, the tops barbed and wicked-looking. The panels are either sticking randomly out of the ice, lying uselessly on the arena floor, or completely shattered to pieces.

Holy shit.

I watch as Kait seems to completely ignore the awed and/or horrified looks of other students and storms out of the gym, throwing her pads off violently. Boomer doesn't even yell at her for the damage done. He just stares in shock at the retreating force of nature.

I need to talk to her.

Fighting against most of my instincts, I take my time getting up and leaving, trying to maintain my casual 'so class is over, right?' indifference. I keep my eyes down but strain my ears to catch snippets of what students are murmuring to each other.

"– didn't think she ever got angry –"

"– imagined she could be that powerful –"

"– so scary –"

I'm in the changing rooms before Boomer has even collected himself enough to dismiss the class. I throw my clothes on and head out of the changing room as quickly as I can. As nonchalantly as I can, I linger in the hallway around the entrance, waiting for Kaitlyn to come out of the girls' door a little further down. Trying to blend in, I get out my phone and idly flick through random messages as I lean casually against the wall. The door to the girls' changing rooms opens, and I focus on the group as Kait's hippie and punk friends leave, but with no sign of her.

"Kait said she'd meet us outside by the bus," the punk says.

"Hope she's okay," the hippie mutters in sympathy.

Okay, at least I didn't miss her. Maybe she's cleaning herself up a bit; she did get roughed up a bit in there. Damn, I hope she's okay.

Almost ten more minutes pass before the door swings open forcefully, and Kaitlyn strides out, glaring a hole in the floor in front of her powerful steps.

"Kait," I call out to her, shoving my phone back in my pocket and hurrying up to her, moving to grab her elbow gently. "Hey, wait up a sec."

"What?" she snaps as she whirls around to me, her sharp eyes catching me off guard. "Are you gonna tell me what I did wrong? Some cool trick way I could have won easily?"

"Hey, simmer down!" I glare back. "Unless you actually want to pick a fight with me."

Emotion sparks between our eyes as we stare each other down, Kait's harsh breathing the only noise as she presses her lips together. As she opens her mouth again, the anger in her eyes gives way to the hurt she's trying to hide.

"I actually tried," she says quietly, never averting her gaze. "I actually tried to beat them, I seem to know what I'm doing more than anyone I've seen fight them yet. I don't know why I thought that would be enough though. I still lost."

That's what she thinks? Okay, I'm definitely glad I caught her; there's no way I can leave her like this.

"Kait, listen to me," I say, turning her towards me. She barely notices, shaking her head and pulling away. But I'm not having any of that.

"Hey, listen!" I grab her more insistently, waiting until she meets my eyes before continuing again so that I can fully convey how much I mean this quiet declaration. "That was the best fight I have ever seen in my time here."

She frowns in confusion, searching my eyes for something. Probably for any indication that I might be lying. But I'll be damned if she finds anything there.

"But," she stutters, "I lost. I wanted to show everyone that I could do something, and instead I ended up on the floor while those assholes jeered at me."

"Sure, you lost," I agree gently. "Yeah, you ended up on the floor, but damn, you put up an amazing fight in the meantime. No one has ever even come close to actually making them work for their victory, yet you actually took one of them out! I've never even heard of that happening! Speed's face when he tripped up was fantastic, by the way." I grin, relieved that she reflexively smiles back. "But that was pure genius. And figuring out how to stop Lash from hitting you was brilliant, too. Kait, you did amazingly in there. And that whole explosion you had right before you walked out definitely made people see what you can do. I mean, you'd just almost passed out from using your powers so much – not surprising, seeing how much you did with them during the fight – and then you just smashed the arena walls!"

"Hold up," she interrupts, startled, "I did what?"

I blink at her. "Wait, you didn't see?"

She shrugs. "Not really. I was too pissed off to actually look around at what I did. And I didn't really think about what I wanted to happen, I just let my power out."

"So you did that without even thinking?" I translate, smirking in disbelief. "That just makes it even more awesome. Kait, half of the wall panels have been destroyed!"

"Oh, shit," Kait tries to suppress an impressed smirk that I whole-heartedly approve of and reflect. "Boomer's going to kill me."

"I was surprised he didn't say anything before, but I think he was just in shock. Along with the rest of the gym," I laugh before looking her dead in the eye meaningfully. "Everyone was talking about what an amazing display that was, and that's not even including what they thought about the fight itself." I pause, then continue quietly. "Whatever they think though, I thought you were badass."

Her eyes keep locked on mine, mulling over my words, and a warm smile eventually creeps over her anxious face, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. My mouth automatically grins back, thankful that I've helped.

"Well, I definitely agree with his assessment, Kait," a voice interrupts us.

We jump apart and spin to face the source further down the corridor. My stomach clenches as I see the confused face of the hippie staring at us.

"But, uh…" she pauses then, her unspoken question obvious.

I drag my fingers through my hair and gaze at the ceiling as Kaitlyn sighs. "Shit."

"It was going to happen eventually," Kait reassures, resigned. "You get on out of here before anyone else shows up. I'll handle this."

"You sure?" I glance at her.

She sighs again, but smiles. "Yeah, I got this."

"Alright," I hitch my bag further onto my shoulder. "I'll…see you Monday then."

"Yeah, see you."

Unfortunately I have to make my way past the hippie to actually get out, so I awkwardly nod to her as I pass. I really hope the others won't mess this up for me and Kait. The hippie seems to be the most sensible of the group, but she's still Stronghold's friend.

Please don't give Kaitlyn hell for this.

Kaitlyn's POV

"If I were Magenta or someone equally as outspoken, I definitely would lead this conversation with 'what the hell?'."

I wince at Layla's words, somehow more piercing in her gentle tone than if she'd snapped them. As the meaningful silence drags on, I eventually meet her eyes. In her gaze, the fresh brown of fertile soil welcomes my input.

"But I know there's a reason for how you're friends with Warren Peace. And I want to listen."

Relief pushes another sigh out of me, this one different from the tired ones I had shown Warren. I hold Layla's eyes for a few more seconds and hope my gratefulness comes across fully. Then I take a few seconds to organise my thoughts and start from the beginning.

"In the first week of the year, I'd just entered the gym for PE when I saw Speed and Lash prowling for victims. I really didn't want them to come to me, and didn't want to find you guys in case they spotted me and so decided to target a whole bunch of fresh meat. So I made a decision and sat next to the one person I figured even they wouldn't approach."

"Warren Peace," Layla nods, impressed if slightly bemused. "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense."

"Yeah," I chuckle. "I decided to try and actually engage him in conversation, to make the time pass faster and to make it look like we were friends to Speed and Lash, to further discourage them coming to me. We talked for a fair bit of the class actually, and I enjoyed it enough that I kept talking to him as time went on. As it turns out…he's not an ass."

I laugh softly again, smiling at the memories I can see behind my eyes. "Now he's my best friend. I'm really sorry I've had to hide things from you, like being friends with him, but…he just gets me. He's seen me in really vulnerable situations – guessed a terrifying number of dark secrets, too – so he knows more about me than you do. It's hard for me to open up with anyone, but I trust him with a lot. Maybe because I sucked at hiding things from him so bad at first that I felt I might as well not hide many other things from him. I guess that would explain why I've told him stuff that I haven't told you."

I sigh, glancing up at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. I don't keep secrets from you all because I think it's fun to emotionally manipulate you. It's just some stuff in my life is complicated and messy and painful and –"

"Kaitlyn," Layla interrupts gently. I swallow.

"I don't expect you to spill all your deepest darkest secrets after knowing any of us five weeks," she smiles. "I've not told you any of my inner demons. So really, don't worry about it."

The smile we share is open and beautiful and honest. Then her expression turns hesitantly concerned.

"There's one thing I want to ask though," she says, and at my nod she continues. "He burned your hands. He hurt you."

It's not at question, but I know what she's asking: am I sure he's a friend? Is he really trust-worthy? Remembering the how the distance between us shrank considerably after that chat on Wednesday, I grin stupidly.

"I know. We talked about that. He apologised for hurting me, and he really meant it. I didn't get him to apologise to me for picking a fight with Will in as many words, but I think he realised how stupid he was. Since then, he's been constantly checking to make sure I'm okay and that my hands are healing well enough."

Layla nods slowly, considering all this, before she smiles easily but meaningfully at me. "Okay, then. I trust your judgement of him, or at least of how he's your friend, even if not anyone else's."

"Just don't be intimidated by the spikes," I tease, half-relieved, half-disappointed that Warren can't hear, "and you'll navigate them easily enough."

We share a good-natured laugh before we both realise we need to hurry for the bus now. We're still laughing, albeit breathlessly, when we jump through the bus doors just in time. As Magenta, Ethan and Zach wave to us – Will is nowhere to be seen – we take our seats happily.

"Cutting it fine, you two," Magenta smirks. "Though if anyone can survive school over the weekend, it's you two. Although Ethan would probably have become the principal by Monday if he got left here."

"And would that be such a bad thing?" Ethan complains.

"What was taking so long?" Zach asks.

Before I have time to think of how to tell them, Layla interjects. "Oh, we were just discussing her fight and lost track of time."

I keep my face neutral, not unpleasantly surprised that she decided to keep Warren's involvement a secret. I send her a warm look, hoping she can see how grateful I am, and how pleased I am that we now have a little secret between us. Her eyes glitter back.

"Oh my god, yes," Magenta claps. "You were incredible in that fight!"

"Yeah, Kaitlyn," another voice chimes in. We turn to see Ryan sat near us, smiling shyly. "That was awesome. I actually, genuinely thought we had a chance during that fight. And I know that wasn't because of anything I did; that was all you."

As everyone else on the bus twists in their seats to join the discussion and congratulations, my heart swells.

He was right, I beam. And he waited for me to make sure I knew.

Bruised and aching and a loser, I end the best day of my life laughing joyfully and chattering animatedly.