Brawler (7 page)

I grinned crookedly. “I’d never apply to Stanford.”

“Then you just saved yourself almost a hundred dollars. Most colleges will waive the application fee for anyone in financial need.” He pressed the envelope against my chest, forcing me to take it. “Show them you want it. Show them you’ll work for it and they’ll give you a chance because that’s all you need. Then it’s on you. You’ll make your future, not them, and when it’s all said and done you’ll know you’re a man who made something of himself because he couldn’t stand to be anything less than absolutely everything he was capable of being.”

I stared at him dead in the eye, not blinking. Barely breathing.

He stared back patiently.

“Why?” I asked, finally voicing the question that had banged around in my brain since I sat down in his office in the gleaming, golden tower. “Why are you doing this for me? All of it.”

“Because you’re worth it. I know that you don’t always believe that, but I do. So does Karen. One hundred and fifty percent. You. Are. Worth. It. You’re a good kid and you’ll be a great man if you just let yourself.”

I blinked hard. “I don’t even know what I’m going to study. There are days where I feel like I planned this all out perfectly, but there are huge holes like that. Like what am I going to do with my life?”

Dan laughed. “Even I ask myself that some days. You’ll try things. You’ll figure it out. That’s the beauty of it. You can take on whatever subject you want. You have what it takes to be so many things. A doctor, an educator, an athlete, a—“

“Lawyer?”

Dan grinned. “Anything you want.”

I nodded, clenching the folder in my hands until it crinkled loudly in protest. “Okay. I’ll fill them out tonight. I’ll give it a try.”

“That’s the first step. That’s all anyone can do.”

That night when I opened the folder and poured the contents onto my bed at home, I felt oddly faint. Like the way it felt when I was in the ring and someone clocked me out of nowhere, taking me completely by surprise and throwing me out of myself for a second.

This was huge. It was a chance to be more than the poor kid with anger issues. I wouldn’t be defined by my bank account, I’d be measured by my intelligence. And for once, I’d be able to pull ahead.

Names were emblazoned proudly at the front of each packet, every one of them more impressive than the last. Each one telling me just how highly Dan thought of me.

Brown. Cornell. Princeton. Yale.

These weren’t just good colleges. They were prestigious. Ivy League. Out of my league. I was smart, but good God, this was insane. MIT! I saw UCLA mixed in, making me smile. Behind it was the University of California Berkley. San Diego. Irvine. Stanford

I opened one up at random, flipping through the pages of required information. There were essays to write, endless forms to fill out, but I was surprised to see some had already been done. All of my contact information was already typed in. My name, my cell phone number, and an address where I could be reached with replies.

The address was Dan’s.

Five Months Later

I passed on graduating early. It was one-part because of what Laney said about missing out on the end of year fun, and fifty-parts because it kept me out of the Asshole’s apartment. I went to school in the morning, had one class to go to, then I was out. I was free. And the Asshole had no idea. After my morning class ended, I’d wait for Callum to finish at lunchtime so we could leave and head to my boxing gym downtown. More often than not, I’d text Jenna during her study period while I waited.

You’re up,
I reminded her.
Hit me with it.

I’m running low!

Is that the joke?

Only if you’re laughing.

Tick…tock…

Fine! Okay, here it is. So a baby seal walks into a club…

I shook my head, typing,
Wow
.

I’m not proud of it. Your turn.

Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar. One says, “I’ve lost my electron.”

Why are your jokes always so nerdy?!
she demanded.

I ignored her.
The other asks, “Are you sure?” The first answers, “Yes, I’m positive…”

There was a long silence and I knew she was face palming over me. It made me smile to picture it.

That was so lame. You win today. Hands down.

You made it too easy. Bring your A game tomorrow.

No school 2morrow

“Oh, hell no,” I muttered, typing quickly.
No text speak! Full words, full sentences. This isn’t Twitter and you’re not a Kardashian, so don’t type like one.

A Kardashian walks into a bar…

I waited patiently for the punchline, hoping she actually had one. She didn’t disappoint me. She never did.

And walks out pregnant,
she finished.

I chuckled at my phone.
And Jenna Monroe closes the round with a one-two knockout punch.

Thank you. Thank you. You’re still the gold medalist in today’s Lame Joke Olympics, though.

Damn straight.

What do you want for your winnings?

What do I always want?

Burritos.

I frowned, surprised she was wrong.
Enchiladas,
I corrected.

*eye roll* You do this every time.

Do what?

Forget what food you like. You don’t like enchiladas, you like burritos.

Bullshit.

Bull nothing, it’s true!

Enchiladas.
I insisted.

Burritos.

Enchiladas.

You’re hopeless. You’ll eat what I make you and you’ll love it.

That was true so I let it slide.

“Yo, Coulter!” Callum shouted from the parking lot. “Shake a leg, bitch! Let’s move!”

I slid down off the picnic table I’d been sitting on, typing Jenna a quick goodbye as I headed for Callum’s truck.

Gym. Warm up. C U 2nite.

Hypocrite.

U luv me n e way.

Burritos.

“What are you smiling about?” Callum asked as I climbed into the cab of his truck. “Is that Laney?”

“No. Why would it be Laney?”

He laughed, starting the car and swinging us out of the parking lot. “Because she’s been all up in your shit lately. I think she’s worried you’re going to graduate, leave school, and she won’t have gotten a taste of your—“

“Stop,” I warned him.

“She’s cuckoo for your Cocoa Puffs, man.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied blandly.

Everyone knew. She wasn’t desperate and she definitely wasn’t waiting around for me, but she was pretty open about how she felt. She wasn’t content with saying hey to each other at school or having the occasional conversation across the dinner table at her house. She wanted more. More of me.

“You gonna do anything about it?” Callum persisted.

“No,” I replied decidedly. “Nothing.”

“Why not?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Fine. But if you don’t use it, it will fall off. That’s just science.”

“Thank you for the PSA.”

“You’re welcome. You hear back from UCLA yet?”

I scowled at the buildings whipping past us as he drove us deeper into Los Angeles territory. My territory. I could feel myself both tensing as we sunk into the slums and relaxing the closer we got to the gym. “No. Not yet. I got two more acceptances, though. Pepperdine and USC.”

Callum beamed, punching me hard in the shoulder. “Done deal then, bro! Go to USC with me! We’ll play football together, rush the same frat, bang the same chicks.”

“No.”

“To which part? We don’t have to join a frat, I guess.”

“No to all of it. I’m not going to USC and I’m not passing girls and VDs back and forth with you.”

“Then where are you going to go to school? Are you holding out for UCLA?”

I was but I didn’t say it because if I didn’t get accepted, if that rejection arrived, then I’d failed. My first choice was out the window and I’d always know wherever I went was something of a settle. I was lucky to be going anywhere, and if the financial aid didn’t come through, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. First choice or last.

“I’ll figure it out when it happens,” I muttered. “For now I need to focus.”

I had a bout that night. It was my first one in over a month and I was heading to the gym with Callum to get warmed up. The actual competition wasn’t until later that evening, but Callum was leaving that night for a camping trip and he wanted to help as much as he could before my match.

He was going camping with most of the guys from the football team. Sort of a goodbye/going away deal for us seniors. I had been invited but I had this bout I absolutely wouldn’t bail on, but more importantly I just didn’t want to go. Miner and Jenner would be there, alcohol would be flowing, and I had vowed the second I walked out of that jail cell that I wouldn’t drink again until I was legal. I was back on track from my brief, horrifying slip up and I was determined not to do it again. Life wasn’t likely to hand me a third chance at getting it right.

When we got to the gym I hefted my bag of gear onto my shoulder and scanned the surrounding neighborhood. No familiar faces or cars.

“Is this guy something you gotta worry about?” Callum asked.

“I worry about every opponent.”

“All of them?” he asked suspiciously. “I thought you were good.”

“I am good, but so are they and the second I start thinking I’ve got a fight won before I even get inside the ring is the day I start losing. I go into every fight feeling like I already lost. Like I’m digging myself out of a grave.”

“Seriously? And you like doing this?”

“I love it,” I answered honestly, heading inside.

“Is that how everyone boxes?”

“No. Everyone’s got their own outlook. That’s mine.”

“Did your coach teach you to fight like that? Like a loser coming up from behind?”

“No,” I replied curtly, tossing my bag on the floor and scanning the small crowd inside. “It’s how life did.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Dan. He said he was going to try to bring Jenna to this one.”

Callum’s eyes widened. “The beanpole? In here?”

I grinned. “Yeah. She wants to come watch. It’s her birthday this month and she asked Dan if he would sneak her to one of my bouts as a present, so don’t ever mention it to your parents. I don’t want your mom saying anything to Karen. She doesn’t want her here. She doesn’t like the neighborhood.”

“How old is she now? Fifteen?”

“Turning fourteen.”

“She gettin’ hot?”

I scowled at him. “She’s not hot. She’s just a kid.”

Callum snorted. “Dude, fourteen is not a kid. And if she gets half as hot as Laney, I’ll wait in line all night to get with that.”

My muscles clamped down tight, angry. “It’d be tough to stand that long on two broken fucking legs, wouldn’t it?”

“Whoa,” Callum said calmly, putting his hands up. “Take it easy. I shouldn’t have said that. I was talking out of my ass. I know she’s like a sister to you.”

“She’s not my sister. She’s my friend and a kid.”

“Whatever you say.”

I ran my hand through my hair roughly. I felt a tightening in my gut that I didn’t bother trying to tamp down. It was the anger. The animal.

The idea of Jenna walking into school next year, the beautiful baby sister of one of the most notorious party girls on campus, made me sick inside. She wasn’t Laney, not by a long shot, but I knew she struggled with everyone expecting her to be. I worried how she’d be treated by guys on campus from Laney’s fan club, and I wouldn’t be there to stop it.

“Do me a favor,” I told Callum. “On this camping trip you’re going on, you tell every last one of the underclassmen that no one lays a hand on Jenna Monroe next year, you got it? No one. I mean it. I’ll take teeth as trophies.”

“You got it. I swear.”

“Good.”

He spun his keys in his hand thoughtfully before warning, “You know Jenna will be pissed if she finds out you did this, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll take that beating when it comes.”

And it’d be worth it.

***

Four hours later Callum was gone, I was about to enter the ring, and both Dan and Jenna were nowhere to be found. I’d texted Dan to see if Operation Smuggle Nonpareil was still in effect and he’d promised me we were greenlit. So then where were they?

I needed to get my head in the ring and out of the meager crowd that was gathering, but I was having a hard time with it. Despite the warning I’d told Callum to pass on to the guys on the team, I was worried about Jenna next year at school. I was worried about me and what college I’d go to. I was worried about the constant temptation that was Laney Monroe. I was worried about the Asshole and what would happen tonight when I went home. Would there be another fight? There always seemed to be lately.

Everything I did pissed him off. Even getting up in the morning and getting ready for school. He didn’t know I’d been applying to college, not yet, but he knew I was graduating soon which to him meant I needed to get a job to stay under his roof. A job where he could collect my paychecks from me. I hadn’t been looking for work anywhere and just the other day he’d told me there was an opening at the cannery where he worked. I’d told him I’d think about it. He’d responded by putting his fist in my side, my face into the drywall, and reminding me that if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me.

I’d spent the rest of the night there in the gym hitting the bag, over and over, counting out the days until I would turn eighteen.

One hundred and eleven.

I hadn’t stopped until my knuckles were raw and bleeding.

“You ready, kid?” Tim asked, his voice low and raspy.

I nodded, focusing my eyes on my gloved hands and putting the rest of the world out of my mind. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Good. Morgan is a Southpaw, remember that. He’s also fast. Maybe faster than you. Keep moving. Never stop moving.”

“Southpaw. Fast. Move.”

“He’s too lean. No muscle. It makes him quick but there’s no oomph to it. He’ll hit ya, but you’ll barely notice. He’ll still get the points, though, so don’t let him.”

“I won’t.”

“Yeah,” he said dryly. “Stay in your head, kid. I don’t know what you got goin’ on out there and I don’t care. Stay in your head.”

“I’m in it.”

He slapped me on the shoulder in response then disappeared down onto the floor in my corner.

I bounced on my toes over and over again, building that tension. That energy. I watched Morgan do the same as he eyed me angrily. I didn’t bother putting on the hate face. I never did. I kept my face blank and my body loose. I waited until the last moment. Until I was allowed to let the control slip and the anger – the animal – would run free.

The referee walked into the center of the ring. He called for a clean fight. A good show of sportsmanship. He raised his arm in warning.

I took two deep breaths.

When his arm fell, so did the walls keeping the animal locked up tight.

I didn’t know anything when I was in the ring like that. I didn’t know my own name. I didn’t know who Morgan was, who my coach was, who was in the audience and who wasn’t. None of that mattered. All that mattered to the animal was the hunt. The kill.

I tracked my prey’s movements carefully. He swung to the left, took a jab at me. Tested me. I pulled away just fast enough to avoid him and snapped like a viper, upper cutting him in the chin at only half speed. Still he stumbled back. He was quick to recover, but now he thought he knew how strong I was. How fast.

He had no idea.