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"Did you have as much of a blast as I had tonight? Seriously, how awesome was it?"
Amy grinned as she eyed her friend. Trish was practically bursting at the seams with excitement as they drove back to the hotel together.
"I did enjoy myself," the redhead admitted, though her voice was nowhere as vigorous and exuberant as the blonde's. "It was fun beating up Jillian."
"Oh, come on, Amy!" the canadian cried as she expertly turned the rental car's steering wheel. "You know you had a lot more fun than that - and not at Jillian's expense."
The taller woman stared at her friend and sucked in an inaudible breath between her teeth. It was times such as these that she wished Trish had a more tactful and diplomatic personality.
"Not sure I'm following you, Trish."
The blonde smirked at her as she turned into the parking lot. They were finally there. She swiftly found an empty spot and pulled the vehicle into it.
"Sure you're not," came the sarcastic reply. Trish pulled the parking brake and undid her seatbelt. "You know exactly whom I'm talking about, and you can't deny it."
Amy bit her lip. Why did Trish have to grill her like this about Adam? It wasn't any of her business, plain and simple. How she felt about him, how their relationship had ended, and everything else about the two of them, whether as a couple when they'd been together, or as friends, was their own business. How she felt about him now was nobody's concer but her own as well. Besides, she had moved on. She was dating Shane Morton, the guitar player in her band, The Luchagors. She couldn't be more over Adam.
"There's nothing there, no matter what you think," she told her friend in a firm voice. She hoped that would be the end of it.
"Right... Amy, I know you. And I saw the way you were looking at him," the little blonde insisted. She exited the driver's side door and made a beeline for the trunk.
The redhead followed suit, her mood soured. The truth was, she had felt good about tonight - very good. In fact, about a million thoughts had whirled through her head after she'd gone out there, past gorilla position, down the entry ramp and out into the arena. She'd come to realize just how very much she missed being a wrestler.
Amy reached into the trunk for her wheeled suitcase ahead of the smaller woman.
"It's over, Trish. That ship has sailed," she stated. "Period." She gave her a pointed look. "And besides, I'm in a relationship. I think he is, too. The end."
The blonde had a response in mind but held her tongue as the two began walking toward the hotel. She just didn't get Amy at all. She was very good at reading people, especially those who were personal friends. Then again, she probably didn't know all the details of the redhead's breakup with the Canadian man. She shrugged as they entered the hotel through the automatic double doors.
After a moment of silence, she spoke again, opting to change the subject somewhat.
"Well... I just had a blast tonight," she said as they stepped onto the elevator. "And it made me realize how much I miss being there."
The redhead turned her head to meet her friend's chocolate-brown eyes. "I think I'd like to make a comeback."
"Really?" Amy's jaw dropped at the revelation. She knew of course how much Trish had loved wrestling, how diligently she'd trained in her early days, and how passionate she'd been before retiring in September the previous year. When you really got down to it, she herself felt the same way. There was no way she could deny it.
"Really," the petite blonde said, clutching the handle of her bag tightly. An expression of girlish excitement came across her features. "I think I'd like to give it another go, Amy!" She closed her eyes, gesturing lightly with her free hand as she continued. "It's just that after more than a year of being away, it's calling to me again - beckoning. I can't ignore that. I'm going to tell Vince I want to come back."
"Wow," was all the redhead could manage for a moment.
The two women stepped off the elevator, as it had reached their floor. As they strolled down the hall to their rooms, Amy was quietly thoughtful. It was strange... It was strange that Trish would be feeling the way she'd just expressed. It was as though the blonde had read her own thoughts, because they were identical. Amy had been feeling pretty much the exact same way, but it had been so for the last few months. Competing or refereeing once in a blue moon on the independent circuit just didn't cut it for her. It quenched a tiny thirst for a very short time, but it was not enough - never enough.
"Good night, Amy," Trish cut into her thoughts. The redhead came back to her senses, realizing they'd reached her friend's room.
"Night, Trish."
As the blonde let herself in, she moved on to the next room the right, which was hers for the evening.
She was exhausted. However, as Amy entered the room and began getting ready for bed, she knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep thanks to her overactive thoughts.
Damn it, the fans had been merciless toward her up until the end... Well, at least some of them had - the rude, judgmental, mindless idiots who didn't seem to grasp the fact that her personal life was her own. They were the ones that had driven her away from the business she'd once so loved. And, in the process, they'd driven her away from the man she'd loved as well - far away.
She thought about earlier that night, when she'd entered that arena filled with tens of thousands of screaming fans... They had actually given her quite a reception. She'd heard cheers - no boos, no jeers. It had felt absolutely great. She'd missed that feeling. She wanted it back.
As Amy finally settled into the bed for the night, she knew she had a lot to do in the coming days. Her life
was about to change, and she had to prepare herself for it.