22. Lincoln
TWENTY-TWO
LINCOLN
“ A nother knock-out, baby!” Andrew barged through the door.
Luckily for him, Whitmore had already left for the night.
The last time he had caught Andrew in the changing room after a fight, Coach had reamed him out.
But that didn’t deter the guy. He still made it a point to come to every one of my matches and was determined to be the first one to congratulate me.
My best friend was like a bad stench Whitmore couldn’t get rid of.
“Did you ever doubt me?” I asked, taking my gloves off and revealing the hand wraps underneath.
The last time I faced North York, we ended up with a similar outcome.
They consistently used the same strategy.
They thrived on keeping their opponents in close range and giving them little room to maneuver.
Every time we were thrown into a match-up, their fighters came out swinging.
Their approach was to overwhelm their opponents—hit hard and fast. They were practically racing to get the most blows in.
That wasn’t how I boxed. It wasn’t how Whitmore trained either, and that was one of the main reasons why I accepted Fenton’s scholarship over any other opportunity in the state.
There was an understanding between us. To us, boxing was a lot like chess.
I always had to be one step ahead. It was a mental game, just as much as it was physical.
I spent hours prior to a match reviewing footage of other boxers around the country.
I analyzed their strengths, their weaknesses, anything that I considered vital to their fighting style.
Then I brought that knowledge with me into the ring.
“You had me worried there for a minute, I’m not going to lie.” Andrew sat on the bench across from me.
“Worried about what?”
“I thought you were going to puke when Cali showed up in the stands,” Andrew said, watching as I unraveled my hand wraps. “Everything okay between you two?”
Was it? At this point, I had no idea. We hadn’t spoken since that night at the gym. It had been a few days since then, but I hadn’t reached out. I was a fucking chicken and avoided contact with her like she was the bubonic plague. And because of that, I had no idea where her head was at.
Hell, I didn’t even know where my head was at.
I removed the second wrap, tossing them both on the bench beside me. “I don’t know, man.”
“What don’t you know?” he said, passing me a clean towel.
I ran the cloth over my damp hair before wringing it between my hands. “I think I might have fucked up, Drew.”
“Fucked up how?” he asked, brow pinched. When I didn’t answer quickly enough, he jumped to his own conclusion. “Did you piss her off again? You know, you can only do that so many times before she tells you to go fuck yourself, right? ”
I sighed, pressing my back against the cool metal of the locker. It clanged under the pressure.
“I may have kissed her during a tutoring session last week.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was the first time I was saying the words out loud, even though I had replayed that moment in my mind several times since it happened.
Andrew leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. “ May have kissed her?”
“Okay…” I wiped down the back of my neck while trying to avoid eye contact. “I definitely kissed her.”
“Just kissed?”
I winced. “Made out might be a better description…”
“You?” Andrew pointed a finger in my direction. “Mister I-Don’t-Have-Time-For-Girls, made out with someone? And your tutor no less.”
“She’s more than that.”
Cali wasn’t some girl who was sticking around because she was forced to tutor me. At least, I hoped she wasn’t.
Even though I knew nothing could come of these feelings that wormed their way into me, a part of me wanted to know if she felt something for me.
Some self-destructive piece of me prayed that what I was feeling wasn’t one-sided.
I squeezed my eyes shut, banishing the thought. It wasn’t fair of me to think that way.
I waited for Andrew to respond, to say some offhand comment about becoming a man, and as he liked to call it, taking another step towards participating in a bedroom rodeo.
When he didn’t, I peered up from the towel that still hung in my hands.
Andrew’s jaw had dropped. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates.
“What?” I barked, feeling the heat lashing at the back of my neck .
“You’re catching feelings,” Andrew admitted in awe. “You’re fucking catching feelings. I knew it!”
“Oh, fuck off,” I said, heading towards the showers. “I’m not catching feelings.”
“Oh yeah, you are,” Andrew argued like a five-year-old as he trailed behind me.
“I’m really not.”
Andrew hummed. “Oh yeah? When was the last time you kissed a girl?”
I furrowed my brow. “What does that matter?”
Before I could make my way into the shower area, Andrew moved in front of me and stood on the threshold. “When was the last time?”
“I don’t know…” I huffed. “Some time back in high school?”
“Vicky Carson. Junior year,” Andrew recited as if he were answering a test question. “It was junior prom, and you had been pining after her since we were freshmen.”
“Yeah, so?” I said, trying to step around him. “What does that have to do with Cali and me making out on the gym floor?”
He mirrored me, throwing his arm out across my chest. His hand landed on the painted brick. “Because you don’t just go around kissing random girls.”
“Maybe I decided that I wanted to start.” I lifted my chin in defiance despite him being a couple of inches taller.
Andrew smirked, leveling with me. “You and I both know that’s a load of bullshit.”
I averted my eyes, glaring at the university logo that was etched into the wall behind a row of lockers. “Doesn’t matter. You know better than anyone why Cali and I won't work.”
I brushed past him, knocking his arm away .
“Won’t work?” Andrew continued to shadow me into the shower area.
“Seems like things are working just fine to me. She’s helping you pass Hamilton’s course, putting up with your moody ass, giving you a hand with Sadie, and now your study sessions are turning into late-night rendezvous? She’s into you, man.”
“That’s the problem. That can’t happen. We can’t happen.”
I turned on the water, hoping the sound would be his cue to leave. And it was. By the time I had dropped my shorts, Andrew had left, giving me time to drown in my own thoughts.
When I emerged from the shower, Andrew was nowhere to be found.
I assumed he had left to ‘network’ with some girls who had attended the fight tonight.
Andrew fucking loved using the fake manager title to invite girls down to The Underground for the unofficial afterparty.
My only hope was that most of them didn’t show and we could call it an early night.
The high I felt from winning was diminishing, the ache inching its way into my muscles.
Throwing on my street clothes, I towel dried my hair the best I could before grabbing my bag and exiting the changing room.
The stadium was still bustling, most people having left the stands, but there were a few mingling on the main floor.
I trudged my way into the sparse crowd, occasionally receiving a high five or stiff pat on the back.
I exited the main area and stepped into the hallway that held all the concessions. It didn’t take me long to locate the back of Andrew’s head. He was mid-conversation with a couple of girls.
“Predictable,” I muttered as I approached them.
As I made my way over, I zoned in on a paper container of fries that someone was holding.
The smell was intoxicating. I was forced to eat before a fight in order to keep my energy levels up, but I often ate the bare minimum.
I didn’t feel great in the ring otherwise.
Whatever I chose to eat after a match was fair game.
“Hey!” Andrew greeted, throwing his hands on both of my shoulders. “If it isn’t the man of the hour.”
“Are you ready to go?” I asked, not even paying attention to the girls he had rounded up.
Andrew clapped me on the back. The grin on his face was too big. Too proud.
“Yup,” he chirped, turning to the people in front of us. “We’re just waiting on one more.”
It was then that I realized who Andrew had been talking to.
Cali’s friend, Ella, stood directly in front of me.
A mischievous gleam in her eyes rivaled the look Andrew wore.
She fixed her cat-like gaze on him. It was as if she knew something I didn’t.
To her right was a redhead I assumed was Harper—the friend Cali had mentioned in passing.
I didn’t know much more than that. The one thing I did know was that she was less than pleased to see me.
She levelled me with a look that had me questioning my life choices.
My stomach dropped. Had Cali told them about what happened the other night?
I didn’t have much time to dwell on it.
“Sorry,” a familiar voice called. “The line for the women’s restroom was insane.” Cali joined our little circle, her doe eyes landing on Andrew before noticing me. “Oh…” She tucked burnt umber strands of hair behind her ear. “Hey, great match.”
A light blush bloomed across her cheeks. She averted her eyes, taking in the crowd of people that were beginning to trickle out of the building—and with them, my hope that things wouldn’t be awkward between us.
“Thanks,” I managed to get out, my throat hoarse.
“Now we’re ready,” Ella announced.
Cali’s lips parted, ready to reply, but she wasn’t able to get the words out before Ella’s arm linked with hers. “Let’s go celebrate, shall we?”