Luke had to be in his forties, an old head, but younger than Uppercut. He had brown skin, wore small, but thick-lens glasses, and was balding in the middle of his head. He scratched his temple, which was silver-gray as his head tilted to the side and his eyes were on the ring floor. “How do you feel about sparring with…men?” He used his hand to swipe the back of his neck. It was obvious he was uneasy about this. “I got some amateurs at a gym I own who need to learn the basics. They ain’t that big—”
“I don’t need small,” I made clear. Both Trish and Collin’s heads behind Luke snapped up. The medical trainer had the girl up and was helping her out of the ring behind Luke. “I ‘on’t know why we started with one. I ain’t never spar with no girl. Why it feel like y’all tryna hold me back here?”
“Hey.” Trisha came to my side quickly, trying to soothe me like I was a baby. “It’s not that. It’s just at the collegiate level, there are liabilities we have to consider. Not only do we have to teach you, we have to protect you. Remember, you’re Blakewood’s first Lady Panther boxer. We’re trying to do this right and big. We can’t treat you like a ragdoll and throw gorillas in the ring with you, Tori.”
“But you could bring your male boxers. That one, Reggie Laws, is somebody I can give work to.”
Collin shook his head silently. Luke gave Tyrone an eye I didn’t exactly understand, but I knew when I was being slept on.
“Tori…” Trisha hesitated.
“It’s sparring, Trisha, damn! It ain’t like we’re fighting.”
“You were sparring with Latesha here.” Luke pointed over his shoulder as she limped to the set of double doors to my right, hanging onto the medical trainer.
I shook my head. “I ain’t hit her hard at all. I swear it.”
“We believe you,” Collin finally spoke up. “It’s obvious you’re stronger than what we gave you credit for.”
I sucked my teeth, disappointed. “And y’all flew out to two of my fights. You said you watched a few on video, too.”
“Yeah,” Trisha tried to explain. “We did, but Luke is your trainer and has to get to know you at his own pace. We have to respect him.”
I looked Luke straight in the eyes. “Respect me, too. Don’t treat me like a girl. I’mma fighter. A damn good one. Get me someone strong for sparring. I won’t break.”
With lifted brows and poked lips, Luke barely nodded. “Let’s do some sparring with the body protector bag.” His words were muttered as he walked away and toward Tyrone.
I turned away, mitted hands over the rope as I tried to center my breathing.
“Yo, Spence!” I heard a faint yelp outside the double doors closest to the ring.
It was ghosted until I saw movement from the next set of double doors. Clearly, someone was just standing and had walked away.
“C’mon, Tori!” Luke yelled. “Get your head in the fuckin’ game!”
That burst the bubble of thought I was in, and I turned back into the ring, getting into stance.
Could it—
Neveeeeer!
He was too much of an ass.
“You can’t be full, eating like a rabbit.”
My eyes dropped to the containers of foods I’d just gotten from the cafeteria when Samantha and I stopped in to get her an early lunch. Then my attention went to the shrimp Po’boy sandwich she was munching on.
“I was good until seeing the glop of mayo on the side of your mouth.”
“Here.” She swiped it off, handing the smeared mayo over. “It’ll be more satisfying than the cattle food you’re eating now.”
As she laughed, I tossed two almonds in my mouth as I rolled my eyes away. I’d been people watching since we copped a squat on the pavilion lawn. It was nice out; the sun was bright against the cool winds. Its rays speared through the thick, green leaves on the long tree branches all around. We were in the perfect spot, trapped under the shade.
Across the curvy walkway were two guys and a girl tossing a Frisbee. To the right of us, a kid bounced a soccer ball on his toes and knees while carrying a stack of books. Coming up the walkway, stringing through bodies zipping past her was a girl in my Black History class on a skateboard. She carried a small boom box in her left hand. As she rolled closer, I could hear Maze Featuring Frankie Beverly’s “Before I Go” pushing through the small speakers. She didn’t see me, but I was sure even if she had, the girl wouldn’t have said hello. She was another weird human.
Like me.
“So…” I turned to find Samantha swallowing while trying to speak. “…is that like your lunch?” Her face twisted in confusion, and likely pity.
The almonds, sliced oranges, and avocados weren’t exactly mouthwatering, but I was so damn hungry after my workout with Ashton, I’d eat one of the branches off the tree covering us right now. We’d been working out together in the mornings for close to two weeks now—and tutoring. We’d been…cool. Other than a few slick comments from him, Ashton had kept his word on keeping peace between the two of us. This past week, I’d finally settled into my new schedule with classes, training, and working out. The food thing was annoying because it was the one element of training for a fight I’d never done with Uppercut back in Jersey. They were strict here about it at Blakewood.
I shook my head. “It’s a snack. Stupid ass nutritionist got me on some kind of diet to get ready for my first fight. My lunch is after my next class.” And I wasn’t excited about that.
A sharp whistle had my neck snapping up.
“Shit…” Samantha swore under her breath, bringing attention to her.
Quickly, I followed her line of sight across the pavilion. It took a few seconds, but I eventually saw pretty boy, Dre, the basketball guy, who hung out with Ashton. I rolled my eyes and reached for another slice of orange.
“What’s up with that?”
Samantha’s head lifted from pretending to be looking for something in her book bag. “Huhn?” Her eyes were big. Wild. “What?”
“The Dre guy.”
“What about him?”
“He’s whistling at—”
“I don’t know.” She answered too quickly. Samantha must have realized it, too, and shook her head. “He’s been flirting. A lot. Last year, he never paid me more than a glance, but since I moved in this semester, he’s been speaking and smiling.”
“Gross.” I rolled my eyes. “Just gross.”
“What’s gross about that?” Samantha sounded hella defensive.
“Him. Anything attached to Ashton Spencer, his stupid girlfriend, and their crew is gross. They’re not humans.”
“Then what are they?”
I shrugged. “Worse than the kind of humans I hate.”
“I think he’s cute.” She bit into her sandwich. It smelled amazing, but I would never admit that. “Nice, too.”
“Nice so soon into the semester?” I challenged. “Okay.”
She mumbled, “Nicer than these bitches here.”
Before I could glance up, Aivery Cooper had flipped her long hair then reached down to give Samantha some type of flier. “Take time out of stuffing your face with an oncoming coronary artery disease to help out with a worthwhile cause.”