“Trent!”

For the first time, Trent was the one caught off-guard. His eyes widened in surprise and he took a step back—but he recovered again quickly. “Conner. What a nice surprise.”

“I want you to leave me alone.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re the one who approached me.”

“I don’t mean just now. I mean, always. Just stop bothering me.”

Trent raised an eyebrow. “And why should I do that?”

“I’ll fight you,” challenged Conner, trying to sound confident, and trying to ignore the little voice telling him this was a stupid idea. “If I win, you leave me alone.”

Trent smirked. “In case you hadn’t noticed, whenever we fight I kick your ass. If the last fight made you feel all confident, here’s a clue: I was letting you win.”

Yes, Conner had worked that one out, thank you. “I know. But I don’t mean morphed. So your Dino Gem is stronger than mine—so what? I mean, I want to fight you unmorphed. Prove which one of us is really better— not which of us has the stronger powers.”

“And why should I agree to that?”

“Because you want to prove you’re better than me.” Conner hoped he did, anyway. “Your power is stronger, but I know you’re not a better fighter.”

“Which means I would be pretty stupid to agree to this, don’t you think?”

“Fine. And I’ll know you’re scared to face me.”

“That’s not going to work.” But Trent looked like he was thinking about it. Finally, he said, “Your Dino Gem. If I win, give me your Dino Gem.”

Trent couldn’t think he would agree to that. “I can’t. Nor our zords, or anything like that.”

Trent nodded, looking thoughtful. “Then how about this for a deal. I won’t ask for you Dino Gem, or anything connected to you as a Power Ranger. Nothing that you can’t do because you’re a ranger. But I will ask for something.” He smirked. “You just don’t get to find out what till after you’ve lost.”

That could potentially be very, very bad. Conner thought for a moment on what Dr. O would say about deals with enemies. Nothing good. But then, Dr. O had gone to meet Zeltrax. “Fine.”

“Really? Even knowing I could ask you for anything?”

Conner reminded himself he could win. Maybe Trent had taken a few karate classes as a kid, but Conner’s twin brother went to ninja school, and his teacher was the greatest Power Ranger who’d ever lived. Between Eric and Dr. O, Conner knew enough.

“Yes. As long as you swear to leave me alone after.”

“I swear.”

--

They met at the river, the scene of their first one-on-one fight. Then, they’d been in morph, and Conner hadn’t known the White Ranger was Trent. He’d lost.

This time? It would be different.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show.”

Conner turned, to see Trent walking over the rocks towards him. It had been raining, and the river was a little higher than normal; it almost drowned out Trent’s words.

Conner raised his voice to reply, “I’m the one who asked you.”

“Yeah.” Trent smirked. “Does that make this our first date? You could have at least brought a picnic.”

“This isn’t a date. It’s a fight.”

“Then get on with it.”

Conner didn’t go running in, aware that in unmorphed he’d find the slippy stones beneath him almost as dangerous as he’d find Trent. He approached cautiously, wondering if Trent was ever going to fall into a fighting stance.

Not that it bothered him. If Trent didn’t think he needed to prepare himself . . . well, that was fine with Conner.

He paused before attacking, running through everything Dr. O had ever told him about assessing an opponent. Trent was over-confident. That was good. Conner didn’t know how much training Trent had. That was bad. Conner had height and reach and probably speed; but Trent had weight and possibly strength.

Believe you can win, Dr. O always told him. Fight like you’re going to win, and you will.

He launched a roundhouse kick at Trent’s ribs. Trent, unprepared, jumped back and landed off balance. Conner didn’t give him time to find it, kicking again. Trent dodged, then had to duck again as Conner punched.

Then it was Conner’s turn to dodge as Trent started to attack, using kicks and punches in unpredictable combinations. Conner let him, blocking and ducking, letting Trent tire himself out. Soccer meant 90 minutes of effort and running. This wouldn’t take that long.

On Trent’s next punch Conner grabbed his arm. He dropped backwards, driving his foot into Trent’s stomach and heaving up. Trent cried out as he found himself slamming into hard stones. Conner jumped up, back into a fighting stance, and resisted the urge to kick Trent while he was down.

Now Trent looked mad, flinging himself at Conner with less technique than fury. Conner hit back with equal rage, the fight descending into a brawl. Conner forgot everything, just hitting and kicking at any part of Trent he could reach. He wanted to hurt Trent, injure him, make him bleed and beg Conner to stop.

Trent fist slammed into his mouth. Conner tasted blood, lip split against his teeth. The metallic taste jarred him back to himself, and gave him the concentration he needed to throw Trent over his hip, this time following the other boy down.

He straddled Trent’s waist, returning Trent’s punch. The other boy already had a cut over one eye, and was blinking in a way suggesting he’d hit his head harder against the stones than Conner had intended. Conner grabbed his wrists, managing to hold them even though Trent struggled.

Conner looked at the blood smearing Trent’s face. The world returned in a rush, and he heard the river again, felt pain where Trent had managed to hurt him. Looking down, he felt the urge to hit Trent again, but managed to resist. He gasped for breath, and managed to say, “Give up.”

“No.” Trent heaved, trying to throw Conner off.

Wasn’t going to work. “I’ve won.”

Trent looked furious, but didn’t reply.

“Leave me alone. You promised.”

“Next time we meet,” hissed Trent. “It’ll be in morph, and trust me. Things will go very differently. I’ve gone easy on you so far. Next time I won’t.”

“Fine. Next time. But for now, stop coming after us when we’re not in morph.”

Trent’s face twisted. “I was getting bored of you anyway. Now, get off me.” He tried to smirk. “Or are you enjoying this too much?”

This time, his wiggle was suggestive enough that Conner got up in a hurry. Trent started to push himself up, but Conner didn’t stay around to watch.

He turned and ran, the world fading into a blur as he pushed himself into super-speed. Trent might not keep his word, but Conner thought he would. He knew Conner could beat him now.

They both did.

--

Dr. O, predictably, looked furious. “Conner! What were you thinking?”

“That I don’t want to turn up at home like this and get grounded?”

Something in Dr. O’s expression suggested that was not what he’d meant. “Stop grinning. You’ve got nothing to be happy about. And go and get the med kit.”

Conner went, glad Dr. O wasn’t mad enough to refuse him painkillers. The smiling was starting to hurt. “I won,” he informed Dr. O. “That’s why I’m happy.”

“Won? Against who?”

“Trent.”

There was a beat of silence while Conner rummaged through the cupboard containing the first aid supplies. The Dino Lab was always well-stocked.

“Did he attack you?” asked Dr. O, sounding worried.

Here came the difficult part.

“Not really.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, I sort of challenged him to a fight? But it’s okay, I wasn’t escalating anything, because I didn’t use my ranger powers at all. And neither did he.”

“I assumed you hadn’t morphed, give what your face looks like. And whether you morphed or not is beside the point! Trent could have morphed, and then what would have happened?” Dr. O took a deep breath. “Conner, that was incredibly stupid. You put yourself in a dangerous situation for no reason—”

“You went to fight Zeltrax!”

“That’s different! He challenged me!” Dr. O shook his head, taking the first aid kit Conner held out. “I’m not going to be much use with this,” he said, holding up a gloved hand. “Hayley’s coming over soon. Take a paracetamol till then.”

Conner went over to the fridge to get a bottle of water. Dr. O continued, “What on earth made you challenge him, anyway?”

“He’s been . . . annoying me.”

“Is this anything to do with Trent visiting your house?”

“Ethan told you too?”

“He thought I should know. He was right. You should have told me.”

Great. “It wasn’t a big deal. But I just wanted him to leave me—all of us—alone. While we’re not, rangering.”

“And he’s now said he will?”

“Yes.”

Dr. O shook his head. “Conner . . . you shouldn’t have done that. I understand the impulse, but you’re a ranger. You’ve got more important things to worry about than whatever Trent’s doing to try and get to you. And you should never put yourself in a situation like that again. Yes, you won, but you didn’t know you would. You didn’t tell any of us what you were doing or where you were going. It was extremely irresponsible.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Yes,” said Dr. O, sounding threatening. But then he sighed, and added, “Go and call your mom. Tell her you’re staying at a friend’s. You don’t need to be grounded on top of everything else.”

Conner grinned and went to follow orders. Not in too much trouble, obviously.

--

The next day, Conner saw Trent in the hall at school. The other boy’s face looked worse than his did; like Trent had tried to fix up his wounds himself, only not known how. He had none of the neat butterfly stitches Conner had above his eye, and he moved like he was still in pain. Trent glared at him when he saw Conner looking. To his surprise, Conner felt only slight pity, none of the rage he’d felt before.

He turned away, blocking Trent out of his mind like he’d tried to do on so many occasions before. This time, it worked.