It’s slightly embarrassing that I’m fifteen and have yet to kiss anyone, but I don’t know… I want it to mean something. And hell, Ireallywant it to be with someone I actually like, not the school gossip.
And I could kill Asher for making me go. Especially when he didn’t stay the whole time.
“The worst seven minutes of my life,” I grumble, and look back to Roxie, but she’s already gone. My chest clenches in disappointment.
“What a dick. I’d be nicer to me if I was you, Ty,” Tina snaps, slamming her locker. I don’t give two shits about how she feels about me, I’m too interested in the girl that just turned my world upside down.
Tomorrow… Tomorrow’s a new day and I’m going to get to know her. No matter what.
“Ty!” Asher, my best friend and current landlord, greets me at the end of the day. “You ready?”
I’ve been living at Asher’s for the last few weeks. After my father died, I promised my mother I’d help support the family. My mother and I had a big blow out, a screaming match that resulted in her slapping me and I walked out. I know she’s grieving, but that was it. My final straw.
Maybe sometime down the road, we’ll reconcile, but right now it’s too much.
I feel bad because before my father died, my mom was helping Asher and his kid brother out. Sending them food and necessities, but then I moved in and all that help stopped. He’s stretched as thin as he possibly can be and still opened his home to me. A true brother right there.
It was Asher who got me into training and then fighting in The Underground. Not a word of a lie, it’s just like Fight Club. No one talks about it, it’s bare-knuckle fighting and a lot of shady fucking shit goes on. No place for teenagers.
Like betting on fights and winning big cash. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, but it gets us the money we need. It’s helping us survive.
Asher’s only sixteen, but he’s already working two part-time jobs and going to school full-time, but he always makes sure that he has off Monday, Thursday, and Friday nights off his night-shift job in order to go fight. At winnings close to $500 a night, it’s hard to pass up. I work a part-time job at the local fast food place, flipping burgers, but it’s barely enough to cover my family's water bill, let alone the mortgage.
I’m not good enough to make $500 a fight, just yet. I’m in the $250 range right now. The better my stats get, the better fights I’ll get, the more money I’ll get.
Do I want to do this full time? Fuck no. I barely want to now, but I know…there’s not really another way we make it through without it.
Will I do this as much as I fucking can in order to provide? Yes.
Without question.
Asher doesn’t know everything about The Underground, but he has more information than I do, so usually we go off what he knows. There’s a guy in the corner–that’s your hype man.Usually when Asher fights, it’s me, and when I fight, it’s him. We’ve seen people have two guys; one in the corner, and one in charge of the money. Right now, we do both. There’s a guy that calls himself the ‘Ringmaster’ and that creepy-looking, scrawny, coked-out fucker is in charge of all the fights, all the money, and all the bets. He stands in the middle of the pit, in a deer blind at least four feet off the ground. He collects all the money, he’s who you place your bets to, and he’s who you get your winnings from.
For a cut.
Tonight, Asher has a fight and I’m kind of excited because it’s a big one. One that could change his trajectory in The Underground. Asher’s only a few months older than me, but we’re both tall and sturdy. We get away with a lot because we look older than we are. We easily pass for the eighteen years our fake ID’s say we are and thus the fights.
Asher, ‘The Phoenix’, is set to fight the current champion of The Underground. If he wins, there’s a real possibility that he’ll become the new fan favorite. That’s when the money rolls in.
We make the thirty-minute walk from school to Asher’s place, and Hunter, his eight-year-old kid brother, is already watching cartoons and eating ramen.
“Hey kid! Anything exciting happen today?” Asher asks Hunter, musing up his hair and dropping his bag next to the table.
“Not a thing.”
“Did you learn anything?” Asher asks. He’s trying so hard to connect with Hunter since their mom just up and left, leaving Asher to keep them afloat. She wasn’t a good mom in any sense of the word, but leaving was probably the nicest thing she could’ve done for them. At least from my perspective. I’m sure from Hunter’s it hurt like hell.
Which is why he’s being so hard on Asher.
“Nope,” Hunter says, and picks up his bowl, walking over to where the TV is playing. Effectively cutting off the conversation.
Asher watches him, and when Hunter’s back is to him, he drops his head in frustration.
“He’ll come around, man,” I say softly. It’s hard because I know how he’s feeling. Maybe not to this extent, but I know the pressures of being the oldest. It can be crippling. Sacrificial. Voiding.
And Asher is the sole provider, the sole guardian, the sole person responsible for Hunter’s upbringing. He knows I’ll help him anyway I can, but it’s still a heavy fucking weight to hold. Not only that, but he has to be really fucking careful or social services will find out and take Hunter. He’s got to play itjustright, or they’ll come storming the door and our little operation here will be gone. They will be lost into the system and I’ll be forced to go live with my mom.
“I know. Or at least, I hope.” Asher runs his hand through his shaggy hair. “Okay, let’s warm up and go over the plan for tonight. We don’t have a lot of time.”
