Page 102 of Hits Different

Smartass. I nod. “Did it help?” he asks, in perfect mimicry. I’m starting to like him. I’m about to answer when Zara bellows, “Di Rossi! Shift your ass”.

I offer him some knuckles. “I’ll tell you about it next week”.

“I’m here evenings too. If you wanna spar”, Jack shrugs, “Or whatever”.

I clutch my heart dramatically, “I’ll be counting the minutes”. He rolls his eyes, but I catch a grin as he starts packing up.

“Take your good sweet time”. Zara grumbles as I jog over. “Remind me why I keep you around?”

“Because in the four weeks that we’ve known each other you’ve grown fond of me”, I smile winsomely, “And I’ve become like a much, much younger brother to you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re much more of a pain in the ass than my younger brother. Grab those pads. People never clean shit up around this place”. T-minus two hours till I head off to Chez Carter. My legs feel weak just thinking about it. “Was that Jack you were talking to?”

“Not sure I’d classify it as talking”.

“You got more out of him in ten minutes than I have in two years. He’s a pain in the ass”, Zara says, “Can’t blame him, given his home life”.

Something flips in my stomach. “He said he got his black eye at school”.

“Probably did. The woman who runs his foster home is doing her best, but it’s hard. Kids coming in with no sense of belonging. It’s just a race against time to get them on the right path before they turn eighteen”.

She nods towards the door. “Jack’s close to ageing out. That’s why I give a cut price on his training. Soon he’ll be on his own”.

I nod, fighting the weird feeling from my insides. My dad used to mentor some kids at his gym, but nothing as serious as this. I mean, it’s not my problem. I barely know him.

“I want to talk to you about something”. Zara gestures at me to sit. “Harvey was due to fight in an amateur bout in a couple of weeks but he’s pulled out. I paid his entrance fee so there’s a spot open. It’s in your weight class, and I want you to fill it”.

“What?” I can’t believe my ears. “Me?”

“You were preparing for your first amateur fight before you joined us. It’s three rounds. The card is here in town. Expenses are low. So is the pay”.

“When?” I flicker with excitement.

“Two weeks. You’re nearly at weight already. This is the real thing, Parker”.

“You said the pay is low”.

“Couple of hundred bucks. Minus taxes. I’ll waive my fee”.

“How many private lessons does a couple of hundred bucks buy?” She frowns, “For Jack”. She looks like she wants to say something, but I cut her off. “Back to the fight. Do you think I’m ready?”

“Doyouthink you are?

You know you are, kid.

“Yes”. I look around at the mats. The mitts. The blood and sweat. “Hell yes, I am”.

It’s strange. I’ve wanted this for so long. I thought it’d feel different. I guess I’m just not used to things going my way. I glance outside to where Jack is waiting for a bus. He gets on, and it pulls slowly away. I shake my head.Focus, Parker.

There’s only one person I want to tell. Only one person I ever want to tell. “What do we know about my opponent?”

“He’s undefeated”.For now. “You might know him actually. His name is Tank Hudson”.

* * * *

Crashing Brandon’s birthday would normally scream level five clinger alert, but truthfully, I have no faith that his dad is actually gonna show up. I call Brandon to confirm where he’s at, and activate stealth mode to sneak up his mile-long driveway undetected.

I keep him chatting whilst I bundle my ridiculously oversized balloons out of the car and ring the doorbell. The look on his face will stay with me until the day I die.

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