The New You

By Webo

Freddy, Rachel, and Miranda argue, wrestle, and-well, see for yourself!

NOTE: This is a formal continuation of a story begun on Diana the Valkyrie's "Continuing Stories" message board. Thanks to earlier contributors for planting the seeds that grew into:

Sixteen-year-old Rachel had always been small and not particularly strong, although certainly cute and very likable. One day, in a ladies' clothing store called "The Body Style," Rachel found a back room called "The New You" where a goateed man dressed in a 3-piece red suit persuaded her to try on a certain pair of jeans. She tried them on and they not only fit perfectly and felt wonderful, they seemed to impart a significant amount of strength to her legs! Eventually, she obtained a complete new wardrobe, on only her signature! She discovered that wearing this clothing made the part of her body covered by it much stronger and more attractive. She went from 5-4, (1.63m) 96 lb. (43.5 kg) of cuteness to 5-4, 127 lb. (57.6 kg) of fit, well-built woman, just by changing clothes! Unfortunately, when changing back to her old clothing, the physical change also reversed itself.

Going to the beach to try out her new fitness and attractiveness, she is approached by three sisters, known bullies, although all three are quite lovely: Lydia, Miranda, and Gidia. The youngest, Lydia, is a 14-year old, 5-9 (1.75m), 170-pounder (77.1 kg); a physique matched only by her two older sisters--Miranda, the 17-year old, stands 5-11 (1.8m) and 195 (88.5kg). Gidia, the most fearsome of all (a lot of the football team is afraid of her!) just turned 18 and looks down on her two sisters from 6-2 (1.88m), and 210 (95.3 kg)! In a brief test of strength (a pushing match on the sand) suggested by Lydia, Rachel wins! Moreover, Lydia suffers from such a loss of strength following the pushing match, her sister Gidia winds up having to pick her up and carry her away! Rachel then challenges Miranda to three strength-related contests, even suggesting that Miranda define the contests, just to see which of the girls is really the stronger-and so the story continues-

* * * * * * *

"OK, Rachel," Miranda replied, "here's what I suggest: the tests ought to be between the two of us, so that eliminates things like weightlifting, or other one-person challenges. For the first test, straight armwrestling; second, legwrestling, and third, full body wrestling, best two out of three falls, to submission!"

Miranda waited, expecting Rachel to back down, especially when Miranda mentioned wrestling to submission, but to Miranda's surprise, Rachel said, "Fine! Whenever you're ready! Only one thing though," Rachel continued, "what exactly is "legwrestling?' I've seen armwrestling and full body wrestling, but I've never heard of "legwrestling.'"

Miranda almost laughed out loud. "Oh brother!" she said, "how did you trick my sister into pretending you beat her?" (Miranda had decided it must have been a trick. No way would Lydia have lost any test of strength to this little wimp!) She then explained legwrestling to Rachel: "We lie opposite each other on the sand, right side to right side, and lock our right legs together straight up. On a signal, we begin to push our legs against each other. The one whose leg goes back, loses. Then we do the same with the left leg.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the two women, a couple of the guys who had run off earlier had returned quietly to observe. Hank, a rather crude young man, who nevertheless was a likable sort, and always seemed to treat everyone fairly (he could afford to, being 6-3 and a well-built 215 lb.!); and Freddy, a quiet, sensitive guy, a little on the slender side at 5-10, and 155. Oddly enough, Freddy and Hank were best of friends. Hank was the only person Freddy had ever confided in, regarding his secret crush on Rachel.

Gidia had also returned after gently carrying her formerly imposing sister out of harm's way, laying her gently beneath a beach umbrella, to regain her senses. Gidia and Hank had dated for a time, but had split amicably a few months previously.

"What's going on?" Gidia asked, and Miranda recapped the planned challenges.

"I'll kill her!" Miranda whispered quietly to her sister. Miranda noticed Hank and Freddy, and suggested one of them and Gidia judge the first two challenges, "-so there'll be no suggestion of impartiality." Gidia and Freddy both agreed to be judges, and Rachel was agreeable, so the stage was set.

"First, the armwrestling." Miranda said.

The two of them lay on the sand, face to face, and took each other's right hands. "OK," Miranda said, exuding confidence. "Freddy, you give us a 3-2-1-GO count."

Freddy obliged, "3-2-1-GO!"

Immediately, Miranda went on the offensive, and had Rachel's arm about 30% down, when Rachel stopped her as easily as though catching a ping-pong ball. Miranda's eyes grew wide in surprise which quickly changed to shock, as Rachel's biceps grew to the size of a golf ball under her skin, and then to baseball size. Slowly, steadily, Rachel overcame the early advantage Miranda had gained, and their arms returned to vertical, then continued to Rachel's advantage. Miranda was straining noticeably, and a sweat appeared on her brow, not just from the warmth on the beach. She gritted her teeth, the tendons at her wrist straining at the skin, but-

"Ouch!" Miranda cried, as the back of her hand hit the hot sand. Rachel held it there for a few seconds, and smiled amiably.

"Left arms!" she said.

Miranda was incredulous. How could this have happened? It was like a nightmare! "You cheated, you witch!"

Rachel just smiled. "You know I didn't," she replied gently. "I'm just stronger than you thought. Left hands!" she repeated, a little more firmly.

Miranda looked a little concerned. Slowly, she locked left hands with Rachel.

"This time, Gidia," Rachel suggested, "you count down. I don't want Miranda claiming that Freddy and I have some sort of signal or anything."

Miranda glared at Rachel.

"3-2-1-GO!" Gidia said.

This time, Rachel didn't hesitate. WHAM! Miranda's left hand hit the sand! She never had a chance! Again, Rachel's smile could have melted an igloo. "One challenge down!" she said. "Now, demonstrate this legwrestle stuff, would you, Miranda? I still don't understand how you do it."

Miranda lay on the sand, still trying to figure out what had just happened. She was a year older, a half-foot taller, and 60 lb. heavier than a girl who had just defeated her, quite convincingly at that, in an armwrestling match. Both arms! Most girls, (and a few guys), didn't stand a chance against her, not to mention a little girl who in the past had always been shy, and almost backward. Rachel meanwhile, had jumped up and was looking quizzically at Miranda. "Well? Are you OK?" Rachel asked, feigning real concern.

"Of course I'm OK. You just got lucky, twerp!" Miranda was sure Rachel had somehow tricked her, surprised her, hypnotized her'something! No way would she lose to this little wimp in either leg- or full body submission wrestling. "You say you don't understand legwrestling? You're not only wimpy, you're not too bright, either!" Miranda walked to a flat area of the beach and lay down on her back. "Hey, Freddy!" she called. "Come here, and you and I can demonstrate what legwrestling is, to little Miss Dorky, here!"

Freddy walked somewhat reluctantly over to Miranda, and lay down beside her, but in the opposite direction. Freddy had had an occasion to receive a physical challenge from Miranda back when they were both 8^th-graders. They had been in a group science project, which charted their weights and heights throughout the school year. At the beginning of the year, Miranda had weighed about 115, and Freddy, 130. Miranda was about the same height as Freddy back then, at 5-7. As the school year progressed, and unknown to anyone but her sisters, Miranda had also begun her weight training. By Christmas, she was still 5-7, but she had gained fifteen pounds. Freddy had also gained a little, and grown an inch; he was 138, at 5-8. But standing next to Miranda, the appearance was of a slender guy standing next to a larger girl, even though she was shorter. To top it off, Miranda had developed a bit of a crush on Freddy, which was not returned by him. Much to Freddy's annoyance and chagrin, Miranda used to follow him to the lunch line so she could stand behind him. This was OK, but then, while they waited for the line to move, Miranda would squeeze Freddy around the waist, and lean back, easily lifting him off the floor. Now Freddy was not so much embarrassed by this, as by his feelings: it was a bit of a sexual turn-on, and he was worried about his sexual persuasion. Miranda hadn't noticed yet, but Freddy was sure it was inevitable. Consequently, he faked anger.

"Miranda! Quit it! You'll hurt yourself! You shouldn't be lifting me, I'm too heavy!"

Miranda would just laugh. "Oh Freddy, don't be silly," she would say. You know girls mature faster than boys at this age. I've matured physically, so I'm stronger than most guys our age. I'll bet I'm almost as strong as you." Now, Miranda knew full well she was significantly stronger than Freddy, but she really didn't want to scare him, so she was trying to build his confidence. What she really hoped was that Freddy would challenge her to some sort of strength contest. She planned to barely lose, to keep Freddy interested. Freddy bit!

"You? Almost as strong as me? Yeah, right!" Freddy laughed, still held fast in Miranda's arms, feet dangling off the floor. "My little sister can do what you're doing, if she gets the right angle, and she's only 10! That sure doesn't mean she's that strong. As strong as me, I mean."

"Well," replied Miranda, "I can't speak for Amy, I've only seen her around a few times, but-" she hesitated, squeezing Freddy just a little harder'he gasped a bit'"you may be surprised." She set Freddy down, as the lunch line started to move again, and he caught his breath.

"God!" he said, "you really can squeeze! But you still can't be as strong as a normal guy our age, no way! You're a girl! A strong girl, but still, a girl!"

Miranda laughed again, as the line stopped. Again, she held him around the waist, and picked him up a few inches. "I think I could carry you all the way through the lunch line!" she said.

Freddy tensed. He thought it might be true. He felt excited! Should he challenge her to try it? What would the other kids think? What would they say? Still, if felt so good! His feet still dangled a couple inches off the floor. He became aware of her warmth against his back, and of the feeling of being held, controlled by a girl his age, a smaller girl! What was happening to him? The line began to move again, and Miranda, true to her word, carried him the next 4 or 5 steps. One of the girls in their class, who had already gotten her lunch tray and was sitting where she could see, suddenly realized what was happening.

"What'sa matter, Freddy?" she yelled across the room. "Legs too short?"

Everyone else looked, and Freddy wanted to die. "N-n-o," he stammered, ""Wonder Woman' here, is just playing around."

Immediately Miranda squeezed harder, and Freddy stopped speaking, more or less involuntarily.

"Watch it!" she hissed in his ear. "I could make it worse. I'll set you down, and you can walk. I really didn't mean to embarrass you." She put him down, and Freddy took a deep breath.

"Thanks a lot," he said softly, with more than a little sarcasm. "Don't do me any more favors."

As they continued through the lunch line for the next several minutes, Freddy tried to understand how he felt. Self-conscious, for sure; excited, definitely! But why? Weren't guys supposed to be the assertive, strong aggressors? Why did he enjoy being lifted and controlled by a girl? Miranda said no more until they were finishing their lunch before going to the playground for the last 10 minutes or so of the period.

"You wanna take a little walk?" she asked.

"I dunno. I guess," Freddy replied. And then jokingly continued, "but promise you won't squeeze me again, please? I'm too full from lunch."

Miranda laughed. "I promise," she said.

They walked for a minute, away from the others, and Freddy spoke.

"You really think you might be as strong as me?" He really hoped she would lift him again.

Miranda tried her best to control a snicker, but failed. "Maybe-" she giggled.

"What's so funny?" asked Freddy. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Not exactly," Miranda said. "I'm laughing, cause you sound like you are really worried that I am stronger. So what if I am? That doesn't change you! I have to admit, Freddy, I have had a crush on you for a few months, now."

"Oh? Is that why you like to embarrass me by carrying me in public?"

"Freddy!", Miranda cried, "Why does that embarrass you? It's no reflection on you! I've been working out, and I'm stronger than average. I still look like a girl, right?"

"Well," Freddy answered, "that's true, you're definitely a girl!"

"Well, then? Why the big deal that I can lift you?"

With that, Miranda scooped Freddy up in her arms and grinned triumphantly. She kissed him on the forehead, like a mother might kiss a 4-year old. Freddy stared at her, dumbfounded, but thrilled. Thank goodness they were out of sight of the others on the playground. She was holding him like a baby, apparently with little effort, and he liked it! She set him back down on the ground.

"We better get back in," she said, and they walked back into the school.

Later, when school was out, Miranda caught up with Freddy as they were walking home. Since they only lived four houses apart, they often walked home along with several other kids who lived near them, but today, it was just the two of them. Freddy spoke first.

"OK," he began. "I've been thinking about your boast of being almost as strong as I am. On the chance you may be right, to avoid anyone else finding this out, would you agree to a private challenge?"

Miranda's heart leapt. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," Freddy said, "I have no weights or any kind of equipment like that, so-" he hesitated. "-so, I thought we could-wrestle!"

Miranda tried to hide her delight. "Oh Freddy, I don't know-you do outweigh me, I think. Weren't you around 145 last week?"

"Yeah, that's close," Freddy said, "but that's part of me being a guy. My weight advantage, I mean. I'm also taller, and can get more leverage. But you are the one who says she's as strong as me." Freddy was encouraged by Miranda's apparent reluctance. Besides, he hadn't yet described the rules he had come up with.

"OK, Freddy," Miranda said. "We can wrestle. But who will ref? How do we decide who wins?"

Now Freddy had her where he wanted her. "That's easy. I came up with this today in study hall. An airplane spin!"

Miranda smiled. She thought, "An airplane spin-he loves it when I pick him up!" Then she spoke. "How will an airplane spin prove anything? I don't understand."

"Well," he replied, "the first to get the other over his shoulders and spin her three times, wins!"

Miranda said nothing, but took note of Freddy's uses of "his" and "her." So, he figured he could win, cause he assumed he was stronger, and he knew he was heavier. Perfect! "Oh," she finally said. "I see. But Freddy," she continued, "you know I can lift you. What makes you think I'm not quick enough to spin you first?"

"Well," Freddy said, "you can lift me like my little sister can. You could probably give me a piggyback ride, too; Amy can do that. But Amy can't lift me over her shoulder, much less give me an airplane spin. You may be able to come close, maybe even pick me up over your shoulder, if I help; but I think I can spin you before you can spin me, especially if I'm resisting."

"So, you think I need your cooperation to throw you over my shoulder?" Miranda stopped. They were in front of her house, and she started towards the back yard. "C'mere a minute," she invited, and Freddy followed. He was getting excited. As he followed Miranda around back, he admired how nicely curved she was becoming. She stopped, and bent down to put her books on the steps leading to the deck. Freddy controlled a sudden urge to jump on her back for a piggyback ride. Suddenly, staying about halfway down, she turned and grabbed Freddy around the thighs, stood up, and brought him up with her! As she pulled his legs away from the front of her body, he had no choice. He flopped over her shoulder, and grabbed her around the waist, from behind. Now she was in control! With her right arm, she held him fast, and gave him a playful smack on the bottom with her left hand. He couldn't control it any longer and started to laugh.

"OK, OK," he chuckled, "You win. You can throw me over your shoulder whether I let you or not!"

"Are you going to quit treating me like some wimpy, fragile, ordinary girl?" Miranda was grinning over her shoulder at the helpless Freddy. She was glad he wasn't angry.

"Obviously, you definitely are not a wimp, or fragile." Freddy said, upside-down. "You are, in fact, an extraordinary girl. But, you haven't won my challenge yet. Change your clothes and come on over to my house. I'll change there, and meet you in my backyard. I don't want your sisters seeing this, just in case-"

As Freddy was finishing this sentence, the back door opened, and Lydia, Miranda's (then) 11-year-old sister came out on the deck. "I see you finally caught one, sis!" she laughed.

Freddy was mortified. "Miranda, let me down!" he whispered loudly. To his great discomfort, not only did Miranda ignore his request, she carried him towards Lydia.

"Yeah," Miranda told Lydia, "I caught him all right. But I think he wanted to be caught!" She stopped at the bottom of the three deck steps. "Can you hold him for me till I change, sis?"

"Miranda, please-" Freddy was close to begging now. He was also concerned that Lydia might drop him, and they could both get hurt. She was only about 5 feet tall; couldn't have weighed over 100 lb.! He needn't have worried. Lydia came down the steps, and Miranda leaned forward, catching Freddy's knees in her left arm, swinging him into a cradle in her arms. She simply stood there, while Lydia reached out, then passed Freddy between them!

"I'll be right back," and Miranda left Freddy in the arms of her 11-year old sister.

"See?" Lydia asked, gently cuddling the now totally amazed Freddy. "We all workout in this family. You're not too heavy for me, at least for a short time. Now, if you promise not to run off, I'll put you down. Promise?"

"I promise," Freddy said, meekly. As Lydia set him down, he thought, "What is happening? Is it me, or are these girls just amazons-in-training?" Subconsciously, he liked it. Outwardly, he acted indignant. "You know, Lydia, just because you can do something doesn't mean you always should do it. You ought to consider others' feelings and concerns, and also your own. What if I were heavier than you could lift? You could hurt yourself, and me."

Lydia looked up at Freddy and smiled. "Miranda is right," she said, "You really are cute!" She grabbed him around the waist in a firm bearhug, lifted, and swung him around 180 degrees. "And a nice armful!"

As Lydia allowed Freddy to stand on his own two feet again, the door opened, and Miranda appeared on the deck, looking (thought Freddy), like a teenage version of Supergirl'in a pair of gray fleece shorts, and a navy blue sports bra. He did a double-take as he looked at her now obvious forearms, upper arms, and relatively broad shoulders. Good grief, she was nearly as broad as he, and her arms might be the same size! Her thighs were definitely larger and better defined than his. She possibly could beat him in his airplane spin contest! And yet, she was certainly all girl. Again, he got that warm, stimulated feel.

"You ready?" Miranda asked, momentarily interrupting his gaze.

"Uh-sure!" Freddy replied, "Let's go to my yard."

"Can I come with you?" Lydia asked.

"Not this time, sis," Miranda told her little sister, who was obviously disappointed. "Maybe some other time." Freddy was relieved.

As they walked past the three houses between their two yards, Freddy was getting more excited, and more apprehensive at the same time. He glanced surreptitiously at Miranda, admiring her lean, well-defined arms and back. He imagined himself totally helpless across her broad shoulders, while she spun him dizzy; then he thought, "What happens when word of this gets out?" On the other hand, he was a guy; he wasn't weak, just not as big as most guys his age. He had the weight advantage, the reach advantage, and, after all, he was a guy-

While Miranda waited outside, Freddy ran upstairs to his room, and tried to decide what to wear. He thought about just slipping on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, but then he thought, "No way. I'll get hard, and Miranda will know-" So he put on his jock, and a pair of mid-thigh length shorts. He found an old T-shirt, a little baggy on him. "If I had her definition, I'd use my sleeveless workout shirt, but I better not," he thought. He ran back down the stairs, but slowed down and walked casually into the yard. He didn't want to appear too anxious. Of course the fact that he was only gone about 50 seconds wasn't lost on Miranda. She smiled at him.

"What took so long?" she asked, kiddingly.

"Sorry," Freddy said, too excited to pick up on her sarcasm. He could hardly keep breathing calmly. "OK. You ready?"

"You bet! Any other rules?" Miranda asked.

"Well," Freddy said, "only that we want to stay in this area, here-" He indicated a grassy area more or less bounded by a few flowers and bushes, about 30 feet square. "No running away, and no pushing into the flowers and stuff. I don't think we need a time limit and as soon as one of us is spun three times, that's a fall, and when one of us loses two falls, the match is over'OK?" Freddy's words had come out in a rapid string, and Miranda had to smile again.

"OK by me. Let's go!"

Miranda assumed what she had seen as the classic wrestling starting position: a mild crouch, with her knees bent, and her arms slightly extended, and began to circle to her left, slowly. Freddy did the same, but occasionally bluffed a quick reach towards her. Suddenly, as Miranda straightened up for a second, Freddy saw an opening, dived at her waist, and grabbed her tightly. Lord, she was tight and hard! No give, even at her stomach! But he had the advantage, being lower, and sure enough, her feet slipped back a little, as he lifted. Just as Freddy thought it was going better than he expected, Miranda dropped all her weight on his back, and grabbed him around the waist, from the back. Freddy gasped as Miranda squeezed, her feet got some traction, and suddenly, it was Freddy's feet that became loose on the grass. As he stumbled forward, she lifted, slowly, inexorably, and Freddy was bent double as Miranda pulled his feet up and slowly turned him upside-down with the back of his head dangling at her knees, and his feet straight up in the air! He waved his arms futilely as she stood there, squeezing him such that he almost couldn't breathe! She had him! As he struggled to squirm, grab at her, and breathe, he realized he couldn't keep this up long and have much strength left. As he quieted down and just hung there limply, Miranda leaned her body to the right, and set him back on his feet. Then, as he took deep, grateful breaths, she was underneath him, grabbing his right wrist in her left hand, her right arm behind his right knee and, swoosh! Up he went.

"How many spins?" Miranda was laughing again. "Three, wasn't it? One-two-three!"

Freddy was incredulous! And dizzy!

"Want three more?" Miranda asked, looking around at his face, standing in his back yard, holding him across her shoulders apparently with little effort.

As she began to turn some more, Freddy cried, "No, c'mon! We said three, and I'm dizzy! You're cheating! I won't be able to continue, and I'm sure I can still get the next two falls!"

Miranda sighed, and set him back down on his feet. Freddy sat down, to avoid falling down. "I can't believe you turned the tables on me so quickly! I can't believe how easily you can lift me and stand there with 140 pounds on your back! I had you, and you still won that first fall! Give me 5 minutes for the dizziness to go away. You got lucky!"

Miranda's first reaction was irritation. He still thought he ought to win cause he's the guy. And if he doesn't win, he may hate me, forever. Crap!

"OK, Freddy," Miranda said. "Come on, and I'll walk you around the yard til you get your balance back."

"Not necessary," Freddy told her from his sitting position. "I'll recover faster just sitting here, I think."

As Freddy sat there, his arms loosely around his knees, his head resting on his forearms, he breathed slowly and deeply. He was trying to picture an attack strategy that would get him at least even in the match. But, Lord, she was strong! Might he lose two straight? Thank goodness, no one else could see his concern.

"Hi, Ugly!" the call came from the back yard, from-oh, no!

"Hi, Carrot-top!" Freddy called back to his little sister. She hated the nickname, and he hoped using it would make her pout and go back inside. No such luck.

"What'sa matter, are you sick?" Apparently, Amy had not seen what had just happened.

"No, I'm just thinking," Freddy replied. Amy did not appear to have seen Miranda, from the way she was talking. Maybe he would get lucky.

"You're Amy, aren't you?" Miranda came from behind the shrubbery. "I'm Miranda. Freddy and I are friends at school."

Oh, no! Now, how was Freddy going to avoid having the story come out. Miranda was sure to let it slip; maybe even brag about it!

"I've seen you around," Amy replied, "but I didn't know you and Freddy were friends. Is my brother really thinking that hard? I've never seen that."

"All right, sis, back inside. Don't you have homework or something else to do?" Freddy was getting more nervous by the minute. How could he get rid of Amy? "Miranda and I have a science project to think about."

"Yeah, right," Amy teased. "You learning to fly?"

So!! She had been spying! Now it would be all over the neighborhood, all around school!

"I wonder if I could do that to you," Amy suggested. "Will you show me how?"

"Forget that!" Freddy told her. "You are too little!"

"Actually," Amy looked at Miranda, "I was talking to her."

Miranda smiled. "Well," she said, "I don't know if you're strong enough. It takes a lot of balance not to fall down, even if you can get him on your shoulders. I'll show you if you want, but be careful."

"Now, wait just a minute! Don't I have a say in this? I don't know if I want to be the guinea pig here." Freddy was backing away from the two girls, but tripped on a tree root and sat down.

"Oh Freddy, don't be silly," Miranda said. "I'll tell you what. I'll show Amy how and we'll see if she can lift me, first. If she can, and doesn't fall over, then she can try you. How's that?"

Freddy knew it was just a matter of time. Amy probably weighed about 95. Miranda outweighed her by about 35 pounds, Freddy only 8 more than that. Plus, her shortness would be an advantage in this kind of thing. If Amy got Miranda across her shoulders, she could probably lift him, as well. He was doomed.

"OK."

"OK Amy," Miranda said, "here's what you do. You're shorter, so that will make it a little easier. Are you right-handed or left-handed?" Apparently, Miranda was going to give his sister a very thorough lesson, Freddy thought.

"I'm left-handed," Amy told Miranda.

"Then it will probably be easier for you to use your right hand to guide, and your left arm and shoulder to actually lift," Miranda explained. "Here, take my left wrist with your right hand, scrunch your legs down a little, and put your left arm behind my left knee."

Amy did as Miranda instructed, and had Miranda across her shoulders, leaning on Amy's back.

"See how most of my weight is already on you?" Miranda said. "Now, when you straighten your legs, my feet will come up with you."

Amy straightened up, and was truly surprised when Miranda's 130 pounds came easily off the ground. She was only 10, and holding an older girl, virtually helpless, four feet off the ground. "Wow!" Amy exclaimed. "This is easy! I can see how you got Freddy up so easily!" Amy took a few steps, but started to lose her balance, so she set Miranda on her feet again.

"I thought you could probably do it." Miranda was delighted, not because Amy could lift her, but because now they had Freddy committed to let Amy try it on him. "Now, stand up Freddy. Your baby sister deserves a chance."

Freddy stood up, reluctantly. "Are you sure you still want to try this?" he asked Amy.

"Oh ,yeah!" Amy said. "I can't wait to try and to show Mom and Dad!"

"I don't think they'd like that, Amy," Freddy told her. "They'd worry you might hurt yourself. Besides, you almost fell with Miranda, and I'm heavier than her."

"Oh, c'mon, big brother," Amy said. "You promised, and I think Mom and Dad would be proud of me, if I can do this."

"You did promise," Miranda reminded him. "Do we have to threaten you?" She was smiling, but with a trace of seriousness. Freddy blanched.

"No, you're right," he said. "OK Amy, but please don't hurt either one of us."

"Don't worry, big brother," Amy replied. "I'm stronger than you think." Amy bent down in front of Freddy, and Miranda coached her.

"Remember, get him across your shoulders with your legs scrunched. Not by bending at the waist. That's how you can hurt your back."

Amy took Freddy's wrist in her right hand, and scrunched at the legs, as he was pulled down across his shorter sister's shoulders. Freddy was surprised at how solid his little sister felt under him. He could tell, since he probably had about 80% of his weight on her, and she wasn't giving, she would be able to do this. Sure enough, he felt his feet come off the ground, a little more slowly than Miranda's had, and with a little more strain on Amy's part, but she did get all the way up. As she took a couple of unsteady steps forward, she gained confidence, and took a few more, until she had carried him all the way around the grassy area. He was amazed, and Amy was ecstatic!

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "I can carry my big brother all around our yard!"

"OK, OK, Amy," Freddy said. "Please put me down before we both fall." It had suddenly occurred to Freddy that his sister was carrying almost half again her own weight!

"Oh don't worry Freddy. I've got a feel for this, now," Amy said. "Hang on!" She started to trot a little, and then broke into a jog. Freddy wanted to disappear! Plus, this was not the most comfortable he had ever been. His little sister was solid enough, but her shoulder was digging into his chest, and the bouncing was getting to him.

"AMY!" Freddy almost shouted. "This is very uncomfortable! Please stop before we-"

Amy stopped suddenly, and spun around-once-twice-clunk! They both went down in a heap. Miranda was laughing uncontrollably, as was Amy. Freddy just lay there wondering how in the world he was going to prevent this from becoming a regular occurrence. It was bad enough a girl in his class could toss him around like a rag doll, but his little sister? Miranda broke into his daydreams.

"Don't forget, Freddy, we still have two more falls to settle! Or maybe only one?"

"Is that what you two were doing?" Amy asked. "That was supposed to be some sort of contest? Gosh, brother, she sure took you easily."

"She just got lucky, Amy! You'll see," Freddy retorted. "OK, Miranda, I'm ready for you, now!"

Freddy's mind was not on the task at hand. What happens tomorrow, when word of Miranda's and his sister's ability to toss him around got all over the school?

"Ready?" Miranda was saying. "Maybe Amy should call "go' and judge the number of spins."

"Yeah, I'd love to watch this!" Amy agreed. Freddy was pretty much forced to go along with the two girls.

"OK," he said, "You can be the "judge' Amy." He thought, "THINK!! What am I going to do to win at least one of these two falls?"

"Go!" shouted Amy.

Freddy wasn't ready, and Miranda jumped at him. But this time he got lucky.

As she darted for his legs, her foot slipped on some leaves, and down she went. He didn't wait for her to get up, as he might have earlier, before she had won the first fall. He literally fell on her back, and grabbed her around the waist, quickly getting his legs under him, and pulling her up, much as Miranda had done to him the first time. As he pushed himself into a standing position, Miranda hung there, face-down, grabbing at his legs. She got one arm around his left leg and pulled hard, and they both went down again, Freddy on his rear, Miranda's shoulder in his gut. Still Freddy hung on as Miranda somersaulted over him, finishing on her back, with his shoulder pinned under her. Freddy quickly rolled on top of her again, but he could get no grip or leverage to do anything but keep her down. Since pinning meant nothing, he got up and reached for Miranda's hand to help her back up.

Miranda never expected Freddy to do what he did next. He had been almost too gentlemanly, and she had expected that to continue, so she relaxed and accepted Freddy's pull, coming back up to her feet. As her momentum brought her up, Freddy ducked down and caught her just right at the waist, tossed her over his right shoulder, then grabbed her right hand in his, pulling her across the back of his neck. Quickly, he made three fast revolutions; in fact, too fast, and they both went down in a heap, Miranda and Freddy both laughing this time.

"I didn't count three, big brother," Amy piped up. "Sorry!"

"Like hell-" Freddy began, but Miranda interrupted,

"No, Amy," she said, "He got that one fair and square. It's OK. Next time I'll be ready for him!"

Freddy stopped laughing. What did that mean? "Don't whine Miranda, you know full well you were ready before, too. Don't make it sound like I cheated!"

Now, Miranda was really irritated. "Sure, sure Freddy!" she raised her voice a little. "Now, let's have the last fall!" She offered her hand to Freddy.

Freddy slowly got to his feet, ignoring the offer. "Give me a minute."

"No way! I'm the little girl," she mocked him; "If I'm ready, you should be, too!"

Freddy turned his back on Miranda, hoping she would not see how hard he was breathing, and that he could control it before the last fall started. As he felt now, he had no chance. "I'll just wait til she yells once more," he thought, "then I'll go right after her."

"OK, Freddy-" the voice behind him was soft, not yelling at all, and seemed too close to his ear. Freddy turned and leaped'or began to leap'at the "unsuspecting" Miranda, who was right behind him, already in position to literally catch him in mid-air!

"Auggh-" was all that Freddy could say, as the smaller girl squeezed with all her might, holding him tightly around the waist, helpless over her back, preventing him from getting even a hint of a breath. Rather than put him into the deciding spin (match point!) Miranda intended to teach him a lesson about girls, boys, and relative strength. As Freddy kicked and struggled, less and less vigorously, she kept up the pressure, and finally, he went limp. His breath came in short gasps, and he groaned softly, "Miranda- please-are you trying to kill me?"

"No, Freddy," Miranda said softly. "I'm trying to teach you something. I like you a lot, but I have lost nearly all respect for you after your attitude about how you thought you were naturally stronger, a better athlete, a better person, just because you're a guy and I'm a girl. I don't know exactly what to do to teach you this lesson, but this seems to be a good start." Miranda slowly eased the pressure, as she carried Freddy slowly around his yard. "Notice, Freddy, that you are entirely under my control?" Miranda looked at Amy. "By the way, Amy, notice how much a guy quiets down when a girl overpowers him?"

Amy, who had been watching from the picnic table, waiting to count the three spins, was transfixed. Her big brother was being subdued, womanhandled, by a girl! And not a particularly big girl, at that! Maybe, just maybe, someday she, Amy, could do that! Freddy of course, was mortified. Even though he had felt some excitement earlier, considering Miranda's ability to throw him around a little, he had never dreamed she could be so dominating, so cruel! She didn't seem to have the first intention of letting him go until she had proved her point beyond any shadow of a doubt. Slowly, his breathing became more normal, and his strength and energy came back. He put his hands on the small of Miranda's back and boosted himself up so he could see her head, but immediately, as she had done in her yard earlier, she let go of his legs, and he fell forward over her back, again.

"When I'm darn good and ready!" Miranda answered his unasked question. "Not before!" Freddy sighed and resigned himself to being her rag doll until she was satisfied. Amy just watched and smiled, and made plans to begin working out immediately.

"Are you going to finish off the match?" Freddy asked Miranda, "or are you just going to rub it in that you won two out of the three?"

"What's wrong, big guy?" Miranda teased, "Feeling a little humble? Want some of your words to eat?" Miranda went up on her toes, and dropped back to her heels, bouncing Freddy on her shoulder, knocking some more wind out of him. Then she pulled his legs away from her, allowing the helpless Freddy to slide further down her back, until he was holding on to her waist for dear life, while she held his knees at her shoulder. Miranda bent forward til her back was parallel to the ground, and pulled Freddy's legs back; then, as she had done in her back yard, she straightened up, put her left arm behind his knees, and slid him into her arms into a perfect cradle carry.

Meanwhile, Amy was watching all this, still amazed. Her big brother may as well have been 5 years old in Miranda's arms! "Could I possibly ever get that strong?" she was thinking.

"Here, want to hold him, while I fix my hair a little?" Miranda was asking Amy, and Freddy tensed.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Miranda," he protested, "even though you are obviously strong enough to carry me, Amy is a lot younger, and I don't think-"

Miranda gently set Freddy into his little sister's arms, ignoring his wishes again. Amy's being shorter helped, but once she had him, she seemed quite able to hold him. Amy leaned back a little to keep her balance, and took a couple of steps, then confidently walked around the grassy area, holding Freddy in much the same manner as he used to carry her, a few years ago. How the tables can turn!

Miranda shook some loose grass and leaves out of her hair, ruffled her hands through it, and called to Amy, "OK, Amy, bring him to me, please?"

Amy obliged, holding her brother in her arms, and walked the 15 or so feet back to Miranda, who scooped the now docile Freddy up in her arms again. Freddy was dizzy with mixed feelings: humiliation, excitement, embarrassment, shame, respect. Miranda carried him over to the picnic table and stood him on the bench. "Hold still a sec," she ordered. He obeyed, wondering what was coming next. "Time to prove a point," she said, again pulling his left arm behind her neck, her right arm behind his knees, and standing straight up, easily putting him into the classic airplane spin position. Freddy was helpless across her shoulders, his neck held fast by her left arm, his legs behind her right. "Count, Amy!" Miranda said, and began to spin.

"One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven--

twelve-" Amy counted, her voice going up at each number. Finally, Miranda stopped and set Freddy on his feet, from where he immediately fell to the grass, rolling over, trying his best to gain his balance, feeling like the ground was spinning, up and down, around and around. He grabbed at the grass, bushes, anything within reach. Miranda and his sister were in stitches!

"Well, Amy," Miranda asked, "Do we have a winner?"

"The winner! First, and only Champion of the Rivercrest High School Airplane Spin Challenge, Miranda-" Amy paused. "I don't know your last name," she said.

Miranda smiled. "Krajack," she replied. "It's Slovak."

"Freddy. Freddy!!" The voice was insistent. It was familiar. Freddy opened his eyes and became aware of the warm sand beneath him, and Miranda yelling at him.

"OK, OK," he said, "sorry, I must have dozed a little."

"A little?? I've been shaking you for about 5 minutes! And why were you smiling? What were you dreaming about, anyway?" Miranda demanded. Freddy just smiled at her again.

"I'll tell you later. We're demonstrating legwrestling, right?" he continued. "Don't go too hard on me, OK?"

Miranda gave him a wry look. She wasn't too concerned about Freddy's request, since there really wasn't much he could do about it. At 40 pounds heavier and with her extra 3 inches of leg length, she didn't anticipate any problems with her former love interest. It had been a long time since Freddy's challenge, and her subsequent convincing victory, back when they were freshmen in high school. Since then, she had steadily outgrown Freddy, and most other kids in her class, by staying on her workout and body-building program. With the exception of her older sister, and the occasional lucky move by her younger sister Lydia, she could out-wrestle, in any way, almost everyone else at the school!

"OK, Rachel, now pay attention!" she told the smaller girl. As she looked once more at her soon-to-be defeated (she thought) opponent, she wondered again, how she could have lost to her in armwrestling! "OK, Freddy, ready?"

"Sure," Freddy replied. "Let's count."

They began to count in unison: "One-two-," raising their opposing legs to vertical with each count. "Three!" They locked ankles together, and began to push in the opposite directions. It was no contest. Miranda was stronger, had the leg length, and the weight advantages. Slowly, her leg advanced. To Freddy's credit, he did give it all he had, he just had nowhere near enough. Hard as he pushed, his leg was forced back, his butt lifted off the sand, and suddenly, with an explosive burst of strength, Miranda's leg effectively threw him over his own head in a classic backward somersault. Freddy lay there on the sand, face down, wondering why Rachel would even begin to believe she could defeat a girl who had just easily beaten him, about 30 pounds heavier, and who certainly appeared stronger than she!

Miranda jumped up and glared at Rachel. "OK, little wimp," she derided her. "Still want me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Rachel replied.

Miranda and the rest were amazed. Maybe Rachel had gotten lucky earlier in the armwrestling challenge, but how could she expect to compete with Miranda in this contest? As Freddy sat up, he couldn't help but look in disbelief at the physical difference between the two girls: it almost looked like Miranda's thigh was as big as Rachel's waist! As Rachel walked over next to Miranda, the differences were even more apparent. Over a head taller, more muscular, heavier, and older, Miranda made Rachel look 12 years old, standing next to her.

"Now," Rachel began, "we lie on our backs, in opposite directions, so our waists are next to each other, right?" She lay on the sand, looking directly up at Miranda's imposing legs, slender waist, broad shoulders, well-defined arms.

"You're smarter than you look," Miranda sneered down at her. She lay next to Rachel, their waists even with one another, and again her size advantage was obvious to all. She had even more of a leg-length advantage over Rachel than she had had over Freddy. "Now," Miranda continued, "We count in unison, raise our legs together twice, then lock up on the count of three."

"Got it," Rachel replied, and the two girls began the count.

"One-two-"

The tension was thick, not just between the two combatants, but among the six or so of their friends and acquaintances who were watching.

"Wait! Wait!" It was Gidia. "Lydia and I want to watch!"

Rachel stopped, but Miranda, sensing an additional advantage, yelled, "Three!" and locked her surprised opponent's calf with hers. She immediately got Rachel into an awkward position, with Rachel's leg back about 30 degrees, and her body rolled up to the point that only her shoulders and arms were on the sand. Pressing her advantage and wanting to make this a quick and clean victory, she went for the kill. Went for it, but didn't quite get it. Incredibly, Rachel held, and although you would have expected Miranda's weight advantage alone to toss the smaller girl over, it was not to be. The longer Rachel held, the more energy Miranda was burning, and the more tired she became. After about 40 seconds, Rachel's leg began to move towards upright. Slowly but steadily, they were again even at vertical, but the movement continued in Rachel's favor, and suddenly, almost all of Miranda's 195 pounds was on her shoulder blades, then her neck, and in a quick flurry of sand and sweat, Rachel's leg came down and Miranda was on her face in the sand.

"Jeez!"

"Unbelievable."

"Wow!"

The spectators acted as though they didn't actually see what they knew they had just seen!

Miranda felt as though she had entered into a dream'a nightmare, actually, kind of like the kind where you are trying to get somewhere, but your legs won't move, or you just can't run, and when you shout, nothing comes out. It was like "Alice Through the Looking Glass," only it was Miranda instead of Alice! For the past 5 years, Miranda had worked, lifting, running, lifting some more, strengthening every part of her now awesome body, and it had paid off. Until today. A younger, smaller, wimpier-looking punk had beaten her in three different strength-related contests. She turned to her side, and looked again at the innocent face of her opponent. Rachel, sitting up on the sand now, gave her a sort of wan smile, as if to say, "Who knows?"

"Well," Rachel asked, "other legs?"

Miranda had now lost three of three challenges proposed by one of the wimpiest-looking girls in her whole high school! Her sister Gidia had witnessed one of them, her other sister had been a victim, and several of their friends had witnessed the others. Word of this was certain to get out and be all over the school'hell, the whole town'shortly. She had to figure out what was going on, and quickly, before she got completely shut out. She had even cheated (a little, she told herself), and still lost! She just couldn't accept the fact that all her years of hard work, her obvious size, weight, strength, age, and height advantages, were useless against Rachel. Rachel, for cryin' out loud, who had always been quiet, shy, easily intimidated by almost everyone at school, boys and girls.

"Left legs now, right?" Rachel asked again, a little more insistent. "Or, do you want to concede? I think you ought to be aware by now, that I'm a little different than the girl you used to tease and bully, don't you think?"

Miranda didn't know which was angering her more'Rachel's apparent, if unexplainable, dominance, or her innocent, almost likable attitude, about her prior victories. "She's patronizing me," thought Miranda. "That little bimbo!"

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing--" Miranda began.

Rachel interrupted, "I'm doing what you and I agreed to do! We're having a set of strength-related challenges. I won the first three. That's all! It doesn't make me more of a woman, or make you less of one. All it really means," she said, lowering her voice so only Miranda could hear, "is that I'm a lot stronger, and more physical than you, or anyone else has ever given me credit for. That doesn't make me a better or more worthy person, and it doesn't make you any less of one."

Miranda looked at Rachel, dumbfounded. Miranda had always been one of the strongest, and at the same time, one of the most bullying kids, boy or girl, in the school, since her freshman year. She also had few friends, and they only liked to be around her when they needed help'lifting something, arguing with someone, winning a bet, whatever. Yet here was one of her former targets, a girl she remembered once holding upside-down over the second floor balcony in the school gym until she gave her her lunch money, actually talking to her nicely! Was this really sincere? Were there people who could treat others nicely, without taking advantage of their obvious physical superiority? (For Miranda had begun to think seriously that, regardless of their appearance, Rachel just might be her physical peer.)

"C'mon, Miranda," Rachel continued. "Let's either finish the last three challenges, or call it off and admit I'm not the wimp I used to be."

For a brief instant, Miranda considered calling it off. After all, as she briefly reviewed in her mind what had happened so far, Rachel had overpowered her older sister, and beaten her, Miranda, three out of three! Then the old Miranda came out again.

"There is no way on this earth that what has happened should have happened," she said, coldly. "And I'll be damned if you win another one of these so-called tests!" Miranda thought for another moment, and continued, "But-I hurt my left leg last week," Miranda had to think quickly, so the lie wouldn't be too obvious, "so-if you really want to be fair-let's skip that, and just go to the full body contact wrestling. OK?" Miranda was certain that, given the wide beach area, and her size, strength, skill, and history of kicking serious butt in wide open wrestling, this was the time and place to finally prove Rachel to be a fake. In fact, she already had plans on how to finish each of the two falls to humble her smaller challenger and resume her rightful place as the better woman.

Rachel looked at Miranda, and couldn't help but feel some pity for the big girl. After all, Miranda's only outstanding feature was her strength, even if she did use it to irritate almost everyone else in school. Now, here came Rachel, taking even that aspect away. Rachel had also noticed how Miranda's "sore leg" was apparently not a problem in full contact wrestling. Right.

"OK," was all Rachel said.

"Great," Miranda agreed. "Let's mark a square on the sand here, and go for it. Pin, or submission, best two out of three, and," Miranda hesitated, "shall we have two refs? How about Gidia, and Freddy?"

Rachel thought, "Hmmm. Her sister, and a boy she's routinely bullied for the past three years, since that surprising airplane thingy challenge they had dreamed up. Sure, that's fair." But then she glanced at Freddy, and he looked directly at her, or, looked her over, directly. Was that a hint of a smile she saw? Was he admiring her? She had always felt sorry for Freddy, and thought of him as kind of cute, but he was too shy to have ever even talked to her, much less asked her out. Maybe he preferred stronger, more aggressive girls? Oh well, what the heck. She was pretty sure, after the earlier victories, that she could beat Miranda at this, too; even if she cheated again.

"Freddy and Gidia will be good refs, I think," Rachel replied. "Do you think there should be a time limit for each fall? It's pretty hot."

"I don't expect to take that long to beat you," Miranda said in the most condescending tone she could muster. She took the familiar crouch position. "Let's get started."

Rachel assumed a similar crouch position as Miranda. She really had never done anything like this, just occasionally watched the high school wrestling team, and the Olympics. Slowly, the two girls circled, Miranda feigning the occasional attack, Rachel reacting, circling left, then faking to her right, trying to see what she might be able to do get Miranda in some position where she might knock her to the sand. Suddenly, with her open hand, Miranda took a fake swing at Rachel's head, and as the smaller girl ducked, Miranda came down hard on Rachel's back, grabbing her around the waist, and squeezed for all she was worth. Rachel was startled for a second. She could not inhale, but she tightened her abdominal muscles, and held against Miranda's continued squeezing.

Then, Miranda, realizing Rachel's strength didn't stop at her arms and legs, lifted Rachel off the sand and backwards over her shoulder. Finally, Miranda's strength, coupled with Rachel's lighter weight, had worked in Miranda's favor! She was ecstatic! She was finally going to get a win! She held the smaller girl nearly six feet above the sand, and continued her relentless squeezing, but Rachel didn't seem to be weakening, certainly not like Freddy had the last time she wrestled with him. Rembering that incident, Miranda pictured in her mind's eye, the hapless Freddy, nearly breathless, and gasping for Miranda to please put him down, and how much that was hurting his back. Yet here was this smaller, younger girl, apparently affected very little by Miranda's bearhug! Another looking-glass moment! Miranda decided she had to somehow inflict pain. She went up on her toes, and dropped hard on her heels, hoping the impact would hurt Rachel enough to make her submit. "Give up?" she asked. Rachel just grunted a little, and said nothing.

Rachel realized that she would have to breathe soon, and after about 35 seconds of holding her breath, she thought she might be in trouble. Her lungs were beginning to burn. Could she hold out until Miranda changed her hold, and allowed her to catch a breath? Her back was becoming a little sore from the repeated pounding and Miranda's sweaty forearm across her stomach was becoming more and more uncomfortable. The sky was pretty, however, she thought, as she watched it from her rather awkward position. "I think I can hold out for another half-minute or so," she thought to herself. Suddenly, she found herself falling backward, or, rather, flying backward, towards the sand. Miranda had pitched her own body backward, releasing the hold and sending Rachel about 12 feet in mid-air, landing squarely on her stomach and getting a mouth and eyeful of sand. Quickly, she coughed the sand from her mouth, and took two quick, deep breaths, jumping to her feet. It was fortunate, because Miranda was instantly on her again, not wanting to let her advantage slip away. Again, the bigger girl got her around the waist, this time standing up, and tightly pinned Rachel's arms to her sides, as she bearhugged her, again lifting her off the sand, and holding her up a foot or so.

This time, Miranda's grip around her waist was less tight, and Rachel had an advantage that Miranda hadn't planned on. Her arms were inside Miranda's! Slowly, Rachel, using the leverage she had, combined with the sweat the two girls were producing, forced her arms out, and Miranda's grip lessened enough for Rachel to slip down onto the sand. Now, Rachel had regained her breath fully, and when Miranda once again grabbed her, Rachel ducked low, and held Miranda's wrists over her shoulders, as she got her hips under the bigger girl, and flipped her neatly over her shoulder. Miranda lay on her back, a little breathless, after her 195 pounds hit the sand. Rachel, not wanting to take too much advantage of her opponent's shock, walked over and sat on Miranda's stomach, her knees on her upper arms, and got into the classic schoolgirl pin position.

"I'm not trying to hurt you or embarrass you," Rachel told Miranda softly, "want to give?"

Miranda was again dumbfounded! Rachel was still being nice! All her 127 pounds was concentrated on Miranda's upper body. It wasn't enough. Miranda was still strong enough to overcome Rachel, and she intended to. Slowly, she powered her abs up, lifting Rachel with her, like some sort of carnival ride. As Miranda walked her legs closer to her body, her flexibility and strength won out. Rachel's feet cleared the sand, and Miranda had her body arched high enough that Rachel was briefly reminded of her last horseback ride! Then Miranda rolled her back on to the sand, and reversed the pin. "Surely," Miranda thought, "She can't, she doesn't possibly have the strength to lift me!" She placed her feet on Rachel's arms and sat firmly on her stomach.

"OK, refs," she shouted triumphantly, "start counting!"

"One-Two-" Freddy and Gidia counted together.

As soon as Rachel realized Miranda was not going to lean forward, and her arms weren't going to be able to brace her, she knew she could buck Miranda off. As the count began she took a deep breath, and wham! Even with the 195-lb Miranda firmly seated on her abs, Rachel bucked her off, directly over her head! Instantly, Rachel jumped to her feet, and this time she applied the hold. As Miranda slowly began to sit up, Rachel stood behind her, dropped to her knees, and applied a full nelson. It was the one hold she remembered from watching the Olympics. As she powered down on the fast-sinking Miranda, she eased up a little, not wanting to hurt her, making another mistake. Miranda stiffened suddenly, got her feet under her and stood. Rachel came up with her, maintaining the hold, even with her legs dangling on Miranda's back, and this time she kept up the pressure. Her arms forced against the back of Miranda's head were having an effect. Miranda knew she could not take too much more of this. She jerked violently from side to side, spun around, threw herself to her back, landing directly on top of the smaller Rachel, to no avail. Rachel quickly wrapped her legs around Miranda's waist, intending at first just to hold on, but quickly realizing her legs were another powerful weapon. Miranda stood up again, but Rachel hung on and powered the scissors, riding Miranda like a cowboy might ride a tiring bull. Finally, Miranda could take no more.
"I-submit-" she barely whispered. Rachel eased up with the scissors, but held the nelson.

"Louder, so the "refs' can hear," she said. Miranda was silent, and Rachel once again squeezed her scissors more tightly than before, holding the squeeze for several seconds. "I'll squeeze you unconscious if I have to," she said quietly. "I really don't want to injure you, but I will if you make me." Rachel eased up again.

"OK," Miranda said, audibly this time, "I give!"

Rachel immediately stopped the scissors, and allowed her nelson to loosen, sliding down the taller girl's back to the sand. Miranda collapsed to her knees.

"That's enough. No more. You are the better woman," Miranda said, clearly enough for the now growing crowd of spectators to hear.

"No, Miranda," Rachel said. "That doesn't make me the better woman. It only makes me the stronger woman. It has no bearing on who you are. Don't lose any respect for yourself." Rachel walked over to where Miranda was kneeling on the sand, still on all fours. She squatted down and spoke more quietly now, so only Miranda would hear. "Any so-called "friends' who don't want to be with you because I won a test of strength against you, don't deserve your respect, or your friendship."

Miranda looked at Rachel'little, quiet, shy, wimpy Rachel, who had been one of Miranda and her sisters' favorite targets, speaking to her as though she really cared about her, and respected her. Miranda remembered the time her little sister Lydia, then 11, had put Rachel into a hammerlock, when the older (13 at that time) girl was still bigger than Lydia was. Miranda had embarrassed Rachel mercilessly for allowing a smaller, younger girl to beat up on her. That had encouraged Lydia to comtinue, and she wound up carrying the crying Rachel over her shoulder through the cafeteria to show off. Now, this same girl had apparently forgiven and forgotten all the tormenting and shame Miranda and her sisters had put her through. "Thank you," Miranda said, and reached out to Rachel. Rachel pulled her to her feet, looked her directly in the eye, and gave her a little hug.

"I think we might make good friends," Rachel said, "if you like."

Miranda leaned down and gently hugged Rachel, then picked her up to her own eye level and kissed her on the cheek. "I'd like that."