I dip down, his fist haloing my head.
“That all you got, fuckboy?” I spit out at him.
Only we can hear it, and normally I don’t give my opponent the time of day by conversing with them, but something is at my back, pestering and pushing me to be better than I ever have before.
He replies with an original, “Fuck you, scumbag.”
My grin turns threatening. I imagine it looks as cocky as Eli’s was not too long ago. “Think it’s safe to say we’re both scumbags, no?”
A grunt tumbles out of him, and he lunges for me, lowering to try and tackle me until my back hits the floor. It doesn’t work to his advantage. I’m prepared for it and put all my power intomy legs and arm as I squat lower and drive my fist into his stomach. He heaves out a gust of air. His bare knees fall to the concrete slab below us. The gym shorts he’s wearing get caught on something on the ground and rip at the hem.
The flock of people around us erupts with elation. Beyond, fists pump the air. He gets a couple of cheap weak shots in at me and then the buzzer blares again. The first round is over. We have two more rounds to knock each other out before we’re thrown into a tie-breaker fourth.
I don’t want it to get that far.
Judging by the way he sneers at me while we get a ten-second break, he doesn’t, either.
He mouths, “Coming for you,” just as the bell rings and we begin our second round. Three minutes are on the clock. One hundred and eighty seconds until I’ll look up and see the impatience on Tommy’s face. He doesn’t like it when we draw it out, when we give them more time to take the lead and claim power over us.
For the first minute, I settle with a cross-jab pattern that he gets the hang of quickly. A disconcerting smile spreads across his face. I see a glimpse of red shine over his teeth, an indication that one of my last punches busted his lip. Or maybe he bit his tongue or cheek. Either way, it motivates me to fall back a couple of steps. To circle him and figure out the best plan of attack.
After endless conversations with Eli and my own experience with boxing, I’ve learned that you can’t always go into a fight with a plan. Each person has their own strengths and weaknesses, and you don’t know how they’ll play with yours until you’re face to face.
So, I observe him. I ignore the crowd and watch as he advances but caters a little too much to his right leg. Just like that, I have his weakness nailed down. When he throws another punch, I dip my chin down and peek through my arms to seehow his leg responds. He’s quick to pull it back and switch out with his other foot.
I give him one of my weaker punches to open up a response. He does exactly what I expect, and when my opportunity is present, before he’s able to switch his stance, I rear back, bring my leg up, and kick him where he’s lacking.
A combination of a grunt and yell comes out of his mouth. His body careens below me and he falls. I rejoice in my hit, but surprise consumes me when he gets back to his feet just as fast. He has a weak area, but perhaps he’s spent time strengthening it for reasons like this.
I roll my neck to the left as he gears up for more, because let’s be honest, it’s coming. He knows I targeted his leg for a reason. Just to feel complete, I stretch my head to the right as well, my peripheral catching the crowd bordering us, and that’s when I see it again.
Beautiful chocolate-colored hair.
Golden brown eyes.
And the faint glimpse of the beauty mark I visualized earlier.
What the fuck?
I thought I was imagining Violet before, but perhaps I wasn’t.
How the hell would she know to find me here?
I look over and seeher, but just like how a hallucination poofs into thin air, she does, too. Dispersed into the musty air of this broken-down candy stockroom. My opponent’s fists slams against my cheek like a hammer driving a nail into wood.Shit, that hurt.Stars invade the edges of my vision. Everyone is sofuckingloud that I can’t see straight. My head dizzies, forcing my stomach into a nauseous fit.
My eyes immediately start watering as pain fans out over my face. I don’t realize my palms are splayed out over the cold floor until I’m kicked in the ribcage.Goddamnit. This guy proves hehas no weak spots after all. Proves thatI’mthe one with enough vulnerability to bring this match to a close.
Agonizing pain disperses out over my torso, and I realize I have two choices. I can lay here like a ragdoll and let him have his way with me or I can get my ass up and do what I initially intended.
And then after, I’ll search the crowd high and low until I find her.
Until I findmyweak spot.
Adrenaline pumps through me at an alarming rate, but I’m not mad about it. It gives me the chance to get back to my feet and press up into my stance. I swallow the nagging pain in my head and blink away the stars. Something tickles my top lip. I lick at it. Liquid metal coats my tongue at the same time I’m met with a smirk.
He’s happy with himself.
Proud over drawing blood.
