Authors: Casey McMillin
Shea could respect that, but at the same time was a little worried that none of the little hotties that had been coming to class were doing the trick. "You're not waiting for Nadine are you?" Shea flinched when waiting for his answer, like she thought he
might say yes.
Julien busted out laughing. "There've been about
twenty
Nadines in kickboxing class, and none of them did the trick.
And right then, as if the universe was playing a trick on
them, John David, the gym manager, walked up and stood next to Julien. He had a nervous, though somewhat cute young woman standing next to him. She had a gym bag hanging on her shoulder, and was dressed to work out.
"Coach
Julien, this young lady is trying the class tonight. This is Nadine." John David stared onto the mat trying to remain composed.
There'd been
more than a dozen girls who came to kickboxing class claiming their name was Nadine, and the same thing happened to all of them. Every single one of them asked if they could use a pair of loaner boxing gloves since they didn't know they needed to bring their own. That was the part when John David told them they could
certainly
borrow a pair… as long as they leave their driver's license as collateral. Without fail, the girl would look panicked, and then say she forgot her ID. John David would let her borrow the gloves, but remind her to bring her ID next time since they would need it if she wanted to sign up anyway. None of the girls who were supposedly named Nadine ever came back for a second class.
John David
stared out at the kids class that was in progress, trying not to laugh as the girl smiled and batted her eyes at Julien. Then came Julien's deep voice, "Did you bring gloves?"
"No," she said
, surprised. "I didn’t know we needed them."
Shea knew the poor girl was falling into a trap, but there was nothing she could do to help her avoid it… shy of offering her a pair of gloves, and she didn't have a spare.
"We can let you borrow a pair," John David said, "I'll just need your driver's license as collateral.
The unsuspecting girl got wide-eyed, and she patted her gym bag. "I actually don't think I have my license with me," she said, apologetically.
They all tried not to smile as John David told her a few things that resulted in her knowing they'd need her ID at one point or another. You could visibly notice her deflate as she realized she'd have to tell everyone her real name sooner or later. Shea wondered how any of them even made it this far without thinking it through. She assumed they were just so excited about meeting Julien that it didn't occur to them. A few of them over the past months had the presence of mind to claim they were joking and go on with the Intro class unphased, but most of them continued the charade for the evening and never showed up again. That night's Nadine was one of those. She did the class, which was really hard for beginners, and went home red-faced and frustrated, never to be seen again.
At twenty-three, Julien was young enough to have real potential in MMA. Even more important than his potential was his work ethic, and he trained non-stop. Julien enjoyed coaching as much as he enjoyed fighting, and his goal was to make a living at the sport he loved so much, no matter how he had to do it. For now, he was balancing both, and his boss at the gym encouraged him to do so.
The fact that Julien inspired a character in a popular romance novel didn't change
much for him where fighting was concerned. His fights drew a pretty good crowd, but that was more a result of him being a good fighter and not about the book. It was one thing to read about a fight, and another to watch one in person, and fans of the book weren't necessarily flocking in droves to watch him compete in his regional amateur fights.
It was a gorgeous winter evening, and Julien Breaux was about to compete in his biggest amateur fight
to date. It was to defend the amateur title from his last fight. If he won, his next fight would be pro. He took just about any fight that came his way, and because of that, he had to be ready to cut weight at the drop of a hat. This fight wasn't sprung on him, however. He'd been losing weight slowly for the last month, and when it came time to make the cut, he only had to lose six pounds. He was more than prepared for the fight, and had no doubt in his mind what the outcome would be. That was exactly the place a fighter wanted to be, and he was chomping at the bit to hear the lock of that cage door.
Julien Breaux
heard the sound of his walk out song as he made his way, entourage in tow, to the stairs that led up to the cage. He was so pumped that he felt his heart might jump out of his chest at any moment. He didn't know much about his opponent other than the fact that he didn't have much ground game. Julien preferred standing as well, but was more than happy to take it to the ground if it meant finishing.
From what he heard, it was supposed to be a good fight, but he
had no doubt he'd win, and that was a good feeling. The cage door locked, and the referee made his speech about rules and keeping it clean. Both fighters knew the rules, so they just used the opportunity to stare at each other. There's a lot to be said for a good stare-down, and Julien Breaux knew what he was doing. His opponent's name was Vick "The Razor" Rasmussen, and the two of them looked at each other like neither of them could wait to land the first punch. Some of the crowd got to their feet based on the stare-down alone.
The fighters duked it out for the entire first round. Julien landed significantly more strikes, but took a few
himself. His eyebrow got cut during round one, and they had to tend to it while he was on the stool between rounds. The other guy was cut too. Julien wasn't sure where, but he knew all the blood hadn't been coming from him. His corner men poured into the ring, carrying all the supplies they needed to make him comfortable. He sat on the stool they'd brought in, and felt the welcome shock of coldness when someone put a bag of ice on his neck. Coach Tim kneeled in front of him to offer advice for the second round. He told him he was happy with the way things were going so far, but he wanted Julien to go for the takedown since they'd heard Vick struggled with Jiu Jitsu. Julien nodded as he drank out of the water bottle that was being held to his mouth.
The bell signaling the beginning of r
ound two sounded. The fighters barely had time to square up when Julien went for a takedown. He had Vick The Razor flat on his back within ten seconds of the bell. Julien remained in a dominant position, putting heavy pressure on the other fighter's chest with his own while he landed four or five solid blows to his opponent's head. Vick shifted to his side to avoid getting hit, and Julien used the opportunity to take his back. He latched onto Vick's back like a monkey, wrapping his arm around Vick's neck and using the strength of his legs to stretch Vick to his breaking point.
Vick tapped, signaling his submission, and the
referee hastily broke the athletes apart at the point of contact. The fighters stood up before giving each other a respectful clap on the shoulder. Julien was still so full of adrenaline that the seconds after the fight passed in a warbly blur. The referee stood in the center of the cage with the fighters positioned on each side of him.
"Your winner," the
emcee said with great drama, "by way of tap out due to rear naked choke, at forty-seven seconds into the second round…
Julien Breaux
."
The referee raised Julien's hand to the sound of cheers from the
crowd. They were at a casino on the west side of New Orleans, and while it wasn't the UFC, there'd been a good turn out. There was nothing like the feeling of submitting an opponent and then hearing the cheers of the crowd as your arm was raised. Julien's corner crew rushed in to offer him congratulations after the photos were taken, and the few minutes that it took them to get out of the ring passed in a haze. Julien's rush of adrenaline had shifted to elation, and he went to the locker room feeling better than ever.
He didn't
even feel or remember the cut on his eyebrow, but the ringside physician pointed it out and told Julien he'd need a few stitches. He couldn't leave the ring to tend to it, but he told Julien to have the paramedics look at it when he got to the locker room.
The cut needed three stitches, but that was a small price to pay for de
fending the amateur title. Julien's next fight would be pro, which meant he might break even instead of having to pay out of pocket to travel to a fight. He still had a long way to go before he got a fight that would pay big, but the wheels were set in motion, and he was prepared to work as hard as he needed to.
"That's what I'm talking about, boy!
Looking like a rear naked machine out there," one of the guys from the gym said as Julien came in from outside. The paramedics had brought him into the ambulance to stitch him up.
"Thanks man." Julien said. "Where's Coach?"
"He's still out there with Brett."
"Still? How's it going?"
"It went the distance, but he lost a split decision. They're just finishing up."
Julien hated to hear that one of his teammates just lost a close fight, but
that was how it went. Just then Brett, along with their coaches, came into the room. There were several rooms in the locker room area, and their team had four fighters on the card, so they took over one room for themselves. The door was open, and they could hear noise from people in the hall, but Brett obviously appreciated the privacy after such a tough loss. The exhausted fighter collapsed into one of the padded folding chairs that had been set out for the team. He leaned over and put the towel he was holding over his own head.
"You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of." Coach Tim said, putting a hand on his ba
ck. He was the head coach and knew from experience what it felt like to lose. "It was close and you fought hard." Brett just interlocked his fingers and put his hands on the back of his head, over the towel. Tim left it at that. He stood up and turned around to give Brett a chance to do whatever he needed to do under that towel. As he turned, he caught sight of Julien.
"How many stitches?" the coach asked.
"Three."
Tim crossed the few feet
that separated them and inspected the paramedic's handiwork. He slapped Julien's ass in that tough-guy athlete way and turned to talk to another fighter who was on the other side of the room hitting pads. He'd be fighting within the next hour, and it was obvious he was trying not to focus on Brett's loss.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Tim said, turning back to face Julien. He fished into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "One of the ring girls handed me this."
He handed the paper to Julien, who took it with a confused expression. He turned it over and read the words. It said, "To the guy with the birthmark."
"What's it say?" Julien asked. H
e looked up at Tim but never stopped unfolding the paper.
"How am I supposed to know? It's for you."
"You didn't read it?"
"No, I didn't read it. I have twenty-eight fighters on the card tonight. I don't have time to read your little notes."
(Tim had four fighters on the card, but always made up random numbers of things to prove his point.)
Julien wasn't paying attention to him an
yway. He was staring down at the note. It was scribbled on a piece of stationery from the casino. "All three of us ring girls are going to Fast Eddie's after the fight. I'd love to see you there. My name's Raven. I'm the hot one." Julien smiled and looked up. Tim had already gone off in the direction of the other fighter, and no one was really paying attention to what he was reading.
"What's it say?" Christian asked. Julien hadn't seen Christian watching him read the note, but
Christian had seen the girl give it to Tim and was curious about what it said.
"
Wouldn't you like to know," Julien said. He was pretending like he wasn't going to tell anyone even though he totally
wanted
everyone to know what it said. Christian called his bluff and shrugged like he didn't care if Julien let him read it or not.
"What do those ring girls look like, anyway?" Julien asked, unable to stand it.
Christian shrugged and held a hand out for the note. "I don't look at those ring girls anymore. I'm married, remember?"
"Don't act like you don't look," came a voice from the other side of the room. Neither of t
hem was sure who said it, though it sounded like Carlos.
"Do those ring girls look good?" Julien asked the room at large.
There were a few appreciative noises, before Carlos said, "Yeah, dude, you didn't check them out before the fights started? They been walking around here in those little outfits since like five o'clock. Usually, at least one of them looks good, but this time, all three of em do. There's not one I wouldn't bang."
"There's not one in the
audience
you wouldn't bang either," Christian said.
"Shut-up fool. I'm just answering the man's question. If that note's from one of the ring girls out there, you better do whatever it says,
or I'm gonna take it from you and do it myself."
"She said they're all going to Fast Eddie's," Julien said.
"I think we should go by there."
****
Two hours later, Julien and three of his friends walked through the door at Fast Eddie's. He figured based on the name that it was some kind of pool hall, which it was—but the place was bumping. He couldn't
believe
there were so many people. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to
find
Raven in that crowd. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure what she looked like. Carlos was with him, and he was the expert who'd spoken up earlier about how hot they all were, so Julien was pretty sure if she was in the bar, his friend would be able to find her.
It wasn't even an issue.
They'd only been inside the bar for a few seconds when he heard his name. "Julien!" she said, coming up from the side of him and putting her arms around his neck. She reached up and kissed his cheek. "I'm so glad you made it."
She looked up at him, but he just stared
blankly at her. Her familiarity rendered him speechless.
"I'm Raven," she said, as if that should explain everything. "T
he one who wrote you the note."
Julien
nodded. "I figured. I hoped that's who you were, otherwise you'd just be a random girl kissing me."
"
Aww, I thought you were gonna say you hoped that's who I was because
I was so hot
," she said, sticking her bottom lip out.
"That too. I meant that too.
"
"
Good," she said. She smiled and took his hand. "We're all sitting over here."
Raven led the way with Julien and three of his friends following her.
The other two ring girls, along with a few other girls and a couple guys, were standing and sitting in stools around a pool table not far from the door. Fast Eddie's had quarter tables, but they were nice, and Julien thought he might enjoy getting in a game or two while they were there.
"Hey Bro, we're gonna hit the bar real quick. You want anything?" Carlos asked
.
"I'll take a beer." Julien said, taki
ng a twenty-dollar bill from his money clip.
"I got it Bro. It's the least I can do."
"Do for what?" Julien asked, looking confused.
"For that being your only beer so you can drive and I can drink what I want."
Julien knew he'd be stuck being the responsible one whether he liked it or not, so he didn't try to fight it. He rolled his eyes and held out the twenty.
Carlos snatched it without question. "
You got mine too?" he asked.
"Hell no
!"
Carlos laughed.
"You better bring my change boss
."
"Chill dude, I'm just messin
' with you." Carlos glanced at Raven.