21. Cheyanne

It's the next practice session with Mac. I get to the gym early so I can get my head on straight. The last thing I need is for him to see me royally screw up again. I open the double doors. The place is quieter today. Most every wrestler has their sketch together by now for the weekend performances but me. If that's not embarrassing, I don't know what is.

As I'm wrapping my hands with tape, I hear the locker room door swing wide. It slams into the cement wall in the back.

I jump, assuming it's Mac on the war path again.

Then, I sigh. It's only Dee Dee Dauterive.

I feign a smile like I'm thrilled beyond all measure to see her grace my space. But I'd rather have bamboo shoots shoved into my nail beds than have to confront the groupie. Dee Dee is one heck of a fan but one heck of a nuisance, too.

I had hoped for some alone time to get centered. So much for what I want. I smile wider.

"Hi, Dee Dee. This is a surprise. What's up? Whatever is on your mind, can we cut this short? I'm late for practice as it is."

Another lie. I'm getting rather good at the prevarication parade. One thing I'm sure my Mom would not appreciate. I gulp back the guilt and keep my smile pasted.

Dee Dee slithers in. She leaves a slime trail wherever she goes, physically and metaphorically. I swallow my urge to chuckle at my inner slay of the looming swampster.

"Yeah, sure. I watched you the other day and was wondering if you'd like me to put in a good word about your character to Ronan. You know, not a romantic thing. A training thing. You see, Ronan and I are close." Dee Dee crosses her scaly green claws.

I smile again. For the first time, a groupie has got me feeling jealous. I seriously need to get my head on straight if I'm thinking that about Dee Dee Dauterive. She's about as desirous a creature from any deep lagoon a self-respecting orc would take a beeline from.

I've seen Ronan at work with Dee Dee when she corners him. All professional and polite, but his face screams for help. Dee Dee has obviously taken his courtesy as some kind of come-on. Poor Ronan. I try to treat her the same way while making my exit.

Dee Dee clamps onto my arm. Her slime is icy-cold.

"I've figured it out, you know? Your new moves. You're Disastra, aren't you? I've seen the shows, and Disastra uses the same moves you pulled out on Lottie the other day. And I've seen Ronan at the Disastra shows, standing in her corner. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put things together. You guys are moonlighting, right?"

Dee Dee's expression flashes devious, one bulging eyeball bigger than the other. Her face spreads in some kind of elongated jaw smarmy grin I never knew swampsters could even form, let alone want to. Who needs a bullhorn when you've got Dee Dee Dauterive lurking on your side? I try not to have my sigh be audible.

Dee Dee catches my widening-eyed shock.

"Oh, no, dear. I would do nothing as horrendous as tittle-tattling. I get your moonlighting. Not good for business, huh?"

Again, with the smarmy swampster grin. I shiver on the inside.

"I only wanted to tell you that I adore Disastra! I mean the whole look. The satin caps, the evil mask and make-up. And those stone-cold aggressive moves. Cheyanne, it's not you, not Archimedes at all, when you're that character. Talk about night and day. If Ronan hadn't been by your side the entire time, I'm not sure I would have clued in that Disastra is you."

She shakes her head. "I almost came up to you two at the last show, but you guys took off so fast. My little legs couldn't keep up in the crowd. More's the pity. I would have asked for Disastra's autograph, too!"

Dee Dee is gushing so the drool is seeping out through her serrated teeth. I'm at least relieved she likes me and doesn't want to eat me. With Dee Dee, you never know.

Dee Dee smiles like she just caught a deer in her jaw. The drool is now a puddle on the cement floor. I step slightly to the right to avoid her gleeful effluent.

"Dee Dee, I don't know what you're on about. Disastra isn't here. I think your match is a bit off. You read too much into Disastra's last show."

Dee Dee's low shoulders shrug, but the smarmy grin doesn't disappear. At this point, the swampster willingly drops the subject to my utter relief.

"Listen, would you be willing to check out some of my new moves? I've been working hard cementing my show."

"You're still looking to get out of training and into the ring, huh?

"You bet ya! It's all I've ever wanted."

I smile once again. Who knew? I thought her sole motivations were hooking up with Ronan and screwing other wrestler's chances by telling on them to their agents.

I'm doing a bit of math myself. Is this some kind of tit for tat going on? My advice for her is to keep shut about our moonlighting.

Before I can say anything, a loud metallic bang interrupts my thoughts. Dee Dee throws herself against the lockers in a side-swipe attack move. I nearly bust a gut suppressing a laugh.

"See? I do that. Stun my opponent, then go into the full-body slam. I weigh a ton, literally. Nobody is getting out from under my body slam. What do you think? If you want, you can lie on the floor, and I lay on top of you. Show you what I mean."

I shake my head. "No, I'm good, Dee Dee. I believe you.'

"Hey, look, if you want pointers on that rope four-point slam you do, I could critique? Or like when you body check to flip your opponent. It's all about body torque, right?"

Dee Dee twists herself into a corkscrew, trying to demonstrate her shocking move. Again, I gulp down a laugh. I've never seen a swampster be so flexible. I picture her in tights teetering on a balance beam in the Olympics.

Okay, no, I don't. I see her falling off a balance beam in the Olympics, with a great big slimy thud. My stomach is in knots, sequestering the laughter. I have to hold my hand to my mouth. My lips aren't obeying.

"Dee Dee, your moves look great, but you really have things all wrong with Ronan and me. There is nothing between us. Not as trainer and wrestler or in any other way. And on a more personal topic… You hanging around, following Ronan wherever he goes? It's not doing what you think it's doing. That's no way to get close with a wrestler. We kind of look at that as stalking."

"Stalking? Oh, God, no. That's not what I'm doing!"

Dee Dee's eyes widen even larger. Perfect. That got her off my scent. Thank God.

"Oh, okay, my bad. Anyway, I really have to run. But Dee Dee, if I were you, I'd stop this nonsense about me being Disastra. You're only spreading lies no one is interested in hearing. And if you want to be a wrestler, being a gossip hound on unsubstantiated rumors is the last thing you should have on your resume. If you get my drift."

Dee Dee wipes the grin off her mouth, lowers her head, and slithers to the side. Her huge swishing tail makes me shiver all the more.

I grab the door, but before I leave, I turn around and look deadly serious. "And one more thing. Ronan Bronson is not, I repeat, not interested in me. We are simply two wrestlers bumping into one another in the gyms around town and at the shows. It's a tight community. You know that. Okay? Are we clear?"

I flash her a sober expression with raised eyebrows and steely eyes. Dee Dee might be a swampster, but when I mean business, my look can kill.

Dee Dee slithers back and raises her tiny arms. "Yeah, Cheyanne. You made yourself crystal. I was only trying to help."

"Great. Now, you have yourself a nice day."

I close the door and walk directly to the ring. Help, my ass. Help herself to Ronan and my career, is more like it.

I gulp air and ball my fists. My nerves are so on edge.

All Ronan and I need is that blabbermouth heralding all over Briarwood about Disastra, about Lawless, and about Ronan and me in some kind of romantic tryst that involves breaking contracts and moonlighting lies.

I hit the jump rope and let all my frustration out, not missing a beat with my feet.

Today will be a good practice. I'm angry enough to hit all my marks.

It's a shame it takes frustration or anger these days to get me on my game as Archimedes, but right now the way things are going, I'll take whatever works.

Pummeling the nosey Dee Dee Dauterive into tomorrow would slap a smile on my face, too. But that would screw up everything for Ronan and me. We need to keep under the radar, not have the needle fly off the chart.

Disaster averted on the Disastra front. For now.