The Fight

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire, the warm colours whirled and scattered in the autumn breeze. Walking through them, I tried to catch one and as my hand closed, a gust of wind would pull them from my grasp. Shouts and cheers stole my attention, the boys had gathered in the schoolyard to watch the big fight. I approached the crowd; the smaller boys were at the back standing on their tippy toes to catch a glimpse of their champions. I tried to squeeze in for a closer look, but two boys turned.

“Boys only!”

“I just wanna watch,”

“Boys. Only.”

I answered with an eyeroll and walked towards the girls.

“I wasn’t even allowed to watch,”

“Why would you? Its pretty stupid if you ask me,” Vicky said and her groupies agreed.  

“Yea, I know it’s stupid, Vicky, I just wanted to watch,”

“God, I hope Tom doesn’t get hit in the face,”

A gasp ran through the groupies.

“He could lose that gorgeous smile,” a groupie answered and covered her mouth as if to save her own.

“Doesn’t it annoy you that they won’t let us watch?”

“Oh my god, Lana, get over it. Tom’s smile is at risk,”

Roars erupted from the boys and hands pulsated toward the epicentre along with chants.

“Fight, fight, fight!”

 The chants teased my curiosity, and I was willing to sacrifice the cat, so I walked over again. The younger boys that sent me away had given up trying to watch.

“Bradley has the biggest,” said the blonde one.

“Size doesn’t matter, it’s how hard it is, and Tom’s is really hard,” said the ginger one.

“Who’s winning?” I asked.

The ginger one grinned. “Why? Is one of them your boyfriend?”

“Nope, I just wanted...”

A loud roar sprung from the crowd and a gap opened. I dashed closer pushing my way past the fans. In the centre both fighters were on their knees. Bradley’s body sagged, his gaze towards the ground. Tom was all smiles, basking in the crowd’s cheers. In his hand hung a conker on a string, chipped and dinted. He rose his mighty weapon and the fans went berserk. Bradley looked up from his conker that lay in pieces, his face heavy with defeat. He raised his hand and in it was a piece of string. He handed it to Tom and walked away. Tom’s eyes followed him which eventually brought his gaze to me.

“You don’t look impressed,”

“I’m not really, it takes more than playing with your nuts to impress me,”

“They’re not nuts, they are seeds,”

“Still not impressed, anyone could do it,”

“Girls couldn’t,”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s dangerous,”

“Dangerous? Let me have a go,”

The crowd peaked up as I said this, and whispers vibrated through them all. Tom glanced past me as he read the faces of the boys listening to our conversation.

“Girls can’t challenge,”

“Why not? Scared I’ll win?”

“Alright, fine. One conker, one match, one winner,”

“Fine! Where do I find a conker?”

“That’s your problem, Lana,”

Tom laughed and walked away followed by his supporters, leaving me to wonder how conkers are made. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned to find the two younger boys I had questioned earlier.

“Here,” the blonde one said as he pushed his hand towards me.

His small dirty fingers opened to reveal a large conker on a string. I took the conker; it was warm and moist from his grubby grip.

“For me?” I asked.

The boys nodded with a smile.

“Tom is a bit of a dick,” the blonde one said. “He never lets us play either,”

“Take it and go bust a nut right in his face,” the ginger one grinned.

I smiled at my young squires and strode past them towards Tom, who I agreed, was a bit of a dick. Surrounded by his fanboys, he did not see me coming until I was right in front of him.

“Come on then,” I said as I dangled my conker in his face.

Tom glared as we went to our knees, the spectators cheered both his and my name attracting the interest of the girls who pushed their way to the front.

Vicky laughed, “Lana, there are easier ways to get a boy’s attention,”

“I don’t want his attention, I want to beat him,”

The crowd chanted, “fight, fight, fight!”

“Ladies first,” Tom smirked and raised his conker.

To be honest I had no idea how to play conkers, I hadn’t even seen a game. All I knew was that I had to break his conker before he broke mine and Tom had a winning conker. I wasn’t taking any chances. I swung my huge conker past my head and in a whip like fashion I threw my arm forward bringing the conker down like a medieval mace. In the split second it took my conker to travel the length of my arm, Tom’s face radiated pure horror. His face read like a book, the conker fight rulebook, and I had broken every rule. As my conker made contact, I heard a hollow thud followed by a squeal. Tom dropped his conker and grasped his hand tumbling onto his back.

My heart sank at the same rate the blood drained from Tom’s face. Some of the crowd looked on in awe, others looked away. It was a painful scream, like a fork scratching a plate.

“My fingers!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..” 

“Stupid girl! I knew I shouldn’t have let you play!”

"It was an accident,"

Tom sobbed his way out the circle, “Move! I’m telling Mrs. Robinson!”  

 The crowd thinned to sounds of laughter as some mimicked Tom’s whining. I picked up Toms conker and handed both of them to the younger boys.

“Thanks boys,”

“Nah, you keep them, stupid game anyway,”

“What are you gonna do now?”

“We’re going o throw rocks, wanna watch?”

“Can I throw rocks too?”

“Alright then.”