Page 76 of Bad Boy
He points to his football players. “Get to class. Now!”
Then he turns his frustrated glare to Remi and me, and I swallow thickly, not used to being in trouble. “You two, follow me.”
Remi looks at me and shrugs, following Coach until we get to the spare room outside the guidance counselor’s office.
“Sit. Both of you.”
We don’t.
Coach sighs like he’s exhausted, even though the day hasn’t even begun. “Remi. Your grandfather asked me to watch out for you before you even got here, and I see I’ve been doing a piss-poor job of that.”
“Whoa. Whoa. I’ll stop you right there, Coach. I don’t need another man looking out for me. Never had one my whole life, and don’t need to start now. I have everything under control.”
Coach’s jaw clenches tightly, and his nostrils flare. “Doesn’t seem so by the looks of it.” He nods toward Remi’s black eye and bruised knuckles.
Remi opens his mouth to speak the same lies that we’ve been telling everyone about Connor nearly falling off the mountain, but Coach cuts him off. “I spoke to Dr. Benson and my brother. Don’t bother with your excuses, son. We all know you were fighting. If you wanna fight, you need to do it the right way. And that does not include pummeling my football players and ruining my season. You need to start training with Otto after school. Funnel that anger into a proper channel. The ring.”
I just stand here silently, fiddling with the hem of my blazer. An awkward fly on the wall, as per usual.
The warning bell rings, the shrill sound deafening as it blares from the speaker right above the door.
Thank goodness.
“Appreciate the advice, Coach. But I already have plans to train with Otto. You’re wasting your breath ’cause there’s nothing to worry about. And you can tell that to Gramps, too. If he’s checking up on me or some shit.”
Remi strolls out of the room, and I follow after him. Coach isn’t happy, judging by the harsh slash of his mouth.
* * *
After a rough start to the morning, the rest of the day passes smoothly, and now I’m sitting on a small set of bleachers in front of the sparring ring Remi is currently practicing in. We’re at Otto’s Boxing Club in Asheville, and I’m making flashcards for our Chemistry exam this week. It’s the best way for Remi to memorize the material. It’s always worked for me, and I’m determined to help him graduate with more than just passing grades. I want to show him how much potential he has. How smart he actually is.
Although it’s been a little hard to concentrate, if I’m being honest.
I push my glasses up and stare some more. He’s only wearing a pair of tiny athletic shorts and black training shoes. He’s gotta be doing this on purpose.
Remi’s sweaty, well-defined muscles are on full display. My eyes trail greedily over his shoulders, pecs, abs, and those delicious obliques. And the V.
Holy hotness.
The V.
I bite the tip of my pen, remembering the tight heat of his body. The feel of his mouth on me. My mouth on him.
This big, tough boxer is soft for me.
Only me.
I adjust my Chemistry textbook, covering the erection uncomfortably straining against my zipper and focus on my work. Determined to help Remi in any way that I can.
Eyes down, I spend the next thirty minutes cranking out these flashcards, practically ensuring Remi’s success. I can’t wait to see the smile on his face when he realizes he can do it.
I glance up, and Remi is closer now, bouncing on his toes, unable to stay still as Otto messes with the tape on his wrists. Otto slips the gloves on, tightening them as he leans down to murmur something to Remi and then adjusts the headgear. I like that Remi has proper gear now.
“I love the mean fuckers. The really big, really angry ones that think no one can beat them. Those are my favorite. To them, I’m the little guy, and maybe I am. But I’ve always loved a good David and Goliath story.”
Otto chuckles, handing Remi his mouthpiece. “Alright, kid. But this is same weight class sparring. So let’s focus on what we learned today and try to put it into practice.”
The next fifteen minutes are spent with Remi circling and jabbing at a guy similar in size. I can tell he’s getting bored and frustrated that this guy won’t fight back. The jittery energy of his stance is a dead giveaway of something to come.
