After my stretches, I redid my long braid so that it forms a crown around my head and stays out of the way. My workout consists of various exercises and using the bench press, treadmill, and weights for deadlifts. I work out for roughly three hours and see that it is six thirty in the afternoon. It's still bright, so I have some time before dinner. I get out of school at about one forty-five, we get home at around two o'clock, I spent thirty minutes with Varun and getting ready, took about an hour for dance and stretches together, and took my three hours for my workout and finishing my homework in the small breaks I had. Dad came into the gym for thirty minutes during the middle of my workout, and after that I took a run around the perimeter of our house and went back in to finish the rest of my workout.
I wait for Varun now, who is wrapping his hands while I wait for him in the sparring area. I have my hands wrapped and just put my tank top back on after finishing my solo workout. Varun has a loose black tank top, similar to mine, and a pair of black shorts. I study him; he doesn't have much muscle and is shorter than me, smaller, but not nearly as quick as me. His real power is in his legs, since he's a runner, and he has the most muscle and power stored in those things. Of course, no one I have ever met could beat me at a race where I am not holding back. I practice running with hundred-pound weights strapped to my legs, so my kick is powerful, and I run very fast with the weights and without them, even faster.
I get into position, with my legs spread apart and my fists in front of my face, my spine slightly curved. He stands directly across from me and we are a few feet apart. I nod for him to start, and he throws a sloppy right hook at my nose, but I quickly dodge it and grab his fist. Using his weight to my advantage, I pull him toward me, making him stumble, and pull his arm behind his back, using the momentum to kick his legs out from underneath him. Still holding his wrist, I keep him down by twisting his arm and digging a knee into his back, but not too hard. Varun is gasping for breath and I look at the timer to see that it has been less than two minutes.
He taps my thigh and I let go. I reach out a hand to help him up, which he takes and gets up, brushing himself off.
"Dang, Vee, that has to be a new record. Usually it takes you two full minutes to take me down," he chuckles, laughing at his own weakness.
"Ha, Varun that's when I'm going easy on you. I still am, though, wouldn't want to hurt my only wittle bwother," I smirk at him, and he shakes his head.
"God, I still have to do fifty minutes of this, don't I?" I nod, and he exhales sharply. "Well, good thing dad is here. Bye!" I look towards the door and indeed see dad leaning on the wall, watching us with a small smirk. Varun quickly unwraps his hands and goes, leaving me and dad to smirk at each other.
"Vivu, come on, you should go easier on your brother," he teases, making me grin.
"Well, isn't Varun to learn to defend himself?" His face grows a little serious.
"My daughter," He starts in Hindi, "It was always and always will be a choice. With you, you chose to learn to defend yourself and build yourself up, and I know you know this, but your muscle and ability to defend yourself isn't everything. You will not choose the same exact path as I did, and neither will Varun. You are each different in your own ways, and you must decide for yourself who you are going to be," I give dad a genuine smile at his words and he begins to wrap his hands. My father has really been the only challenge for me when sparring, but since about a year ago I have been able to defeat him in our matches because of my growing strength.
I subconsciously size my dad up; he is taller than me, but not by much, he has about the same amount of muscle strength as me, but I am much quicker and more flexible. Dad's a little more than two-hundred pounds of muscle, while I am about one-hundred-ten to one-hundred-twenty. I have done so much more training that was not under his watch that I can take him down, but not as easily as I can Varun. He's wearing his black dress shirt and black sweatpants, making for not very free clothes. Usually I hold back, even against dad, but today I guess I will continue the streak of letting myself out.
We both get into the starting positions when I noticed that both my brother and mom are sitting on one of the benches closest to our sparring mat with a bowl of popcorn between them. I roll my eyes and return my focus to dad. He starts the timer and I motion for him to go first. I let my subconscious to go into its "super analyzing" mode, where I am analyzing subconsciously which of dad's muscles are tensing or getting ready to be used so I have a premonition of what he's about to do before he does it. His bicep and thigh tense, so I get ready to dodge and slide away from his feet. He throws his left fist at my jaw and I dodge it before sliding to the side to narrowly avoid his foot which kicked out, trying to get me off my feet. Mom and Varun cheer while dad laughs a little at himself.
I quickly throw my right fist at his nose, and I hear a crack as blood starts to come gushing out. Mom and Varun cheer louder while dad simply wipes the blood off and holds his fists up to block his face from anymore attacks. I use the momentum from the punch to spin around and land a kick on his solar plexus. Dad stumbles backwards, coughing, before he rights himself and throws a series of quick punches at my face and waist, which I quickly dodge or block. I then throw a purposefully slow punch to his jaw, and, while he is distracted, hook my leg behind his knees so dad falls. I quickly take his arms and lock them in my grip while sitting on my knees on dad's back. He tries to kick me off with his legs, but I quickly take one and bend it back until it must hurt, and I feel dad tap my thigh while mom and Varun cheer more. I help dad up and look at the timer. Ten minutes.
Dad and I at the same time see mom hand Varun a hundred-dollar bill.
"You bet on us?" We say in unison, causing us all to laugh.
"Yeah, mom hasn't seen any of us sparring before, right? So, I bet her you would beat dad, since you've been beating him since last year, but mom didn't know that." Varun explains, chuckling.
"Well how am I supposed to believe our little Vivu can defeat her own father?" Mom teasingly says. Dad and I chuckle as mom moves to stand next to us while dad ruffles my hair.
"Keep it up kiddo," He says, before our parents walk out, leaving me leaning against the wall, drinking out of my water bottle and Varun jokingly trying to do a deadlift.
"Come on, Varun. Let's go before you break your back," I tease, and we leave after turning off the lights.
I quickly run up the stairs and into my room to take a shower and change my clothes. I am covered with sweat and my muscles are worn out and loose. I quickly strip and get into the shower. After spending about ten minutes in there, I step out in only my towel and make my way into my closet. I choose out some black leggings and a loose navy sweatshirt. I also have to wear a sapphire ring on my index finger to signal to Varun that we are on for Secret Karaoke night. The ring itself is a stunning expensive thing, with a large cornflower sapphire, about as large as my thumbnail, cut in an oval shape and set in between hundreds of tiny individually cut diamonds. The band is sterling silver and the ring itself has my initials carved into the band.
I wear the matching diamond earrings, which are much more simplistic than the ring and are a few dozen of those tiny individually cut diamonds hanging from the sterling silver base. I finish my jewelry with the gold necklace my great grandmother gave me when I was born. I usually hide it under my clothes, but at home I bring it out to its full length and nestle it right above my collarbones. The necklace is made of twenty-two carat flawless gold links with small breaks in between links for the hook and hollowed out diamonds cut into cylindrical patterns.
I redo the braid crown my hair was in and tuck it into place before walking into the dining room where everyone is seated, waiting for me to start dinner.