Even though there was enough on Alex's mind to be willing to vent against someone, she was glad it was dark in her house. Mila had chosen to stay in her own apartment tonight, which probably meant she was still angry. She checked her phone for messages, but didn't bother to send her friend a text when she found out there were none. Mila was a problem she would solve later. The problem that was called "a tomorrow" was much more urgent.

With a sigh she dropped down on the couch, just like she'd done yesterday. Hopefully it won't become a new habit. Staring at the ceiling she considered her options once more. There weren't many, and she'd already thought about it the whole way back to her house.

The most obvious option was pretending to be sick. Just like she'd done in the past when she had wanted to skip school. Her uncle had always been very easy going, he'd never found school very important and rather had an extra hand in the garage.

But the guys wouldn't be so easy to mislead. Even with a 104-degree temperature they would pull her out of her bed and drag her into the ring, and force her to work the rest of the day. They would at least come by and when they would find out she wasn't sick at all, she would be kicked out of the club immediately.

A skin disease, that was her second option. Some kind of wound on her stomach that was contagious. But she dared to bet they wanted to see it, and she wasn't that creative with make-up. It needed to look real.

So she needed something real. Something painful, something that would startle them when she rolled up her shirt so they would be the ones suggesting to fight another day. Of course it was only a temporary solution, but a temporary solution was still better than no solution at all.

But it was insane – and not harmless. If she made a mistake, she would be in the hospital tomorrow and her identity would be revealed anyway.

Despite the risk she would be taking, Alex couldn't abandon the idea. It was the only thing that could work, that could save her tomorrow. If Mila ever found out about it she would jump out of her skin and commit her to a mental institution. And even knowing that couldn't stop her.

She sat down behind her laptop on the table and started hours of research on the internet.

. . .

It was 2:30 AM when Alex felt certain about her plan. She took a handful of painkillers, put the suture, scissors and bandage on the countertop and went looking for a suitable knife which she disinfected. She took off her shirt, she'd gotten rid of the chest binder earlier tonight. Then she turned towards the light and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the knife. She moved it to her upper abdomen, right beneath her ribs. Where there were no major blood vessels, no important nerves and no organs she would hit. She took a few deep breaths. The blade felt cold against her skin. She banned all thoughts, as she'd done so many times during her military training.

I can do this. I've learned to stay calm in situations like these and I know how to treat a wound like this.

She counted to three and stabbed herself. She gritted her teeth while suppressing a scream and focusing on her breathing. Mentally she instructed herself to take the next steps. Put the knife on the table. Press the edges of the wound together. She took the needle and thread and stitched the wound, grunting all the curses she'd picked up the past years. Her head was spinning. The pain was sharper than she'd expected, but she managed to push it to the corner of her mind until she was done stitching.

As soon as the wound was stitched, she dressed it with a patch and wrapped the bandage around her stomach. She washed the blood from the knife and carefully she squatted on the ground to scrub the floor. Then she staggered to bed and lied down very carefully.

She turned her head aside and looked through the window. Stars sparkled coldly.

"Sorry," she whispered when she imagined Kip's face. He would have been proud of her plan, but he'd have been furious as hell for carrying it out.

Slowly her eyes closed and despite the pain, she smirked. "At least they can't say I'm not devoted."