Page 9 of Hits Different

He nods, absently plucking a blade of grass. “What you said before, about Future-Brandon being a hotshot lawyer”.

“I didn’t use the word ‘hotshot’”.

“It was implied. Do you think that’s all life has in store for me? Being a lawyer”. He gives a little laugh, “I mean, is that it?”

“I hope so. Future-Parker is relying on Future-Brandon to keep him out of jail”.

He smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. Brandon’s future is a tricky subject. I nod pointedly at the soccer ball lying between us. “If soccer is where you think your future is, then go for it. Fuck everyone else”.

“My parents just want what’s best for me”.

Brandon’s parents. The mothership of tricky subjects. “Did I tell you Simon’s got a job at Summit 434?”

Brandon sits bolt upright. “Holy shit! No way. How’d he land that?”

Summit 434 is an apex training and rehab facility for soccer players. A kid a couple of years older than us spent a summer there and got signed to MLS within days. Didn’t even have to finish college. It’s full residential and costs megabucks.

Brandon’s been pleading with his parents for years to let him go.

“He’s starting entry level, but you know Simon”. My cousin is fifteen years older, and the golden boy of the family. We’re not close. “He says he’ll be running the place in five years”.

“Do you think he will?”

“No”, I roll over onto my stomach, instantly depressed, “I think he’ll do it in three”.

“Bastard”, Brandon says loyally. I smile, closing my eyes, reaching for him with one arm. He rests the back of his head against my ribcage, settling down sleepily on the grass. A few moments pass. “You should bring Millie. To the party”.

“Really?”

“Definitely”, he says firmly. “Half the school will be there anyway, what’s one more? My parents will never notice. If anything, they’ll probably hit her up for a campaign contribution”.

Carter’s parties could be fun, and Millie would love to network with the movers and shakers that orbit Brandon’s world. She’s got a closet full of fancy dresses and I could borrow a tux from Brandon.

Plus, my mom could hang the photos on the fridge and pretend like I hadn’t been exiled from prom as punishment for fighting on campus. “Alright. You’re on”.

“You’ll come?” he says happily. “Awesome. I knew you’d change your mind”.

“It must be something”, I reply lazily, “To always get your own way, no matter what. I’d love to cruise through life like that. How’d you manage it?” We both fall silent, and in the heat, my eyes drift to a close. I’m almost asleep before I hear his response.

“Just lucky, I guess”.

Chapter 4

Honour Code

Parker

The answer to Vanessa’s question buzzes noisily around my head.

Because nobody would believe me.

Red Gloves is a shitty hole-in-the-wall kinda gym. I mean that, literally. There areactualholes in the walls. Guys swap pills in the locker rooms. Things get broken and aren’t repaired. What little money there is goes into covering the bills. It’s a complete dive.

But I don’t care. It’s home.

It’s chilly when I walk through the door. A small heater vibrates uselessly, warming nothing that’s not within a foot of its path. I find a working locker and shove my bag in there. I roll my neck, loosening up protesting muscles. MMA may be new, but years of training in judo, boxing, and wrestling aren’t. My body is pretty good at keeping score.

The only decoration are the quotes written in marker pen on every wall. Different fighters sharing words of wisdom. Lessons. Mantras. I haven’t written one yet. You have to earn the right.

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