Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Sierra
At first, the idea of putting it together bored me. I'd never been cultured to play with toys, and the idea of using my free time to work on something so pointless seemed like a ploy to get me out of his hair, but having it for five days and counting, it was beginning to feel, dare I say, relaxing.
It was such a rush to find the missing piece to fit here, and a boost of dopamine to finally match the piece that went there.
The set that he got me was of the Beast’s castle from Beauty and the Beast, and the more I worked on it, the more I learned that for Mónica, I didn't want things like this to feel far away.
I was forced to grow up young, and we couldn't afford things like dolls or train sets.
I wanted my daughter to have a different life than I did, and that meant letting her be young for as long as possible. I couldn't wait for us to spend our first Christmas together united. I was going to buy her all the presents, including advanced Lego sets like these.
The best part of putting it together was that it did help cut back on distractions.
Distractions like Josue. Spending so much time with him and pretending his tight body and sexy tattoos didn’t send me into a horny frenzy was the most frustrating part.
I couldn't wait to get this first fight over with, so I could start my search to find someone to hook up with.
It was kind of like a post-game ritual for me, whether I won or not. I rewarded that high with a romp session. I tried being picky but truthfully, I was just crap at a relationships. I didn't have an example of great ones. Almost everyone I knew in life was either getting hit or getting cheated on.
When I tried to be that soft, feminine energy that allowed a partner to lead, I got led straight into perdition.
And the sad part was, that I actually liked being girly and sweet, but I always got taken the most advantage of when I was.
Until I lined my ducks in a row, I only aligned myself with the part of a relationship that felt the best. Unfortunately, that was the sex, but the last person to break me off wasn't even worthy of getting saved into my phone.
The block feature hated to see me coming.
A series of knocks cut my eyes towards my door, as I got up to answer.
“Hey, it's six ‘o’clock, Medina. You decent?” I flung the door open, his festive dancing bringing a smile to my face.
“Aye, what's good, mamá? You ready to go?”
“I don't know, Josue. I'm nervous.”
“What do you mean you're nervous? You've been hustling like a beast, and I've got the shiner to prove it,” he joked, pointing to his scar.
“Shut up,” I said, with a playful shove, as he sat on the desk home to the Lego project.
“You're doing pretty good with this, and in quicker time than most. We're gonna get in some more training in today, and then…” he paused theatrically. “You're gonna nail your last weigh-in.”
“It's been so fucking hard to lose these last pounds. It's like my body doesn't want to let the weight go.”
“No, I think you'll do good today. You want to know why?”
“Why?” I whined?
“Because I believe in you. Now get changed. You make weight, and I got a surprise for you.”
***
“Jab, cross, roll, hook, cross!” he instructed, my body instinctively gliding through each command.
“?Dale*! Feint jab, overhand, lead hook, rear knee!” My form guided me like a nostalgic memory.
The moves feeling more intuitive than taking a first step.
I don't know what I had to thank for me reaching this level, but I did know who, and it started with the man in front of me.
“One last combo, then we do weigh ins. Cross. Lead hook. Cross. Switch kick. Jab. Cross. Sprawl. Cross. Hook.” Flying through the intense combo had me feeling light as a feather, but the truth would be on that scale.
“You have more awareness in the cage. Better and tighter reflexes, dare to wonder what helped with that?” Other than my usual training, I had no idea. That's all I fucking did now was train, train, train. What else could it have contributed more than that?
“You want to take a guess? What have you been focused on lately, other than training?” I squinted, confused, until the shit finally came to me.
“The Legos?” He pointed to his head.
“The Legos! Now she gets it. It's a trick that I picked up in my training days.
Like you, when someone introduced it to me, I thought it was a waste of time.
A white boy's luxury. But the thing about Legos is it's essentially a puzzle.
Your time in a cage is a brain teaser. Learning when to strike.
Learning when to hold back. You think differently, you fight differently.
That's the kind of thought process you have to have when you're fighting someone more experienced than you,” he admitted.
Who knew that a box of Legos would aid in me being a force of nature.
Here I was thinking he was just giving me something to do because I quit my job.
“?Ya*? he asked, leading me what I had been dreading. I stepped on the scale so nervous, I didn't even want to look.
“You don't want to see?” he asked, my eyes clamped shut as he adjusted the piece along the bar.
“Just tell me if I did or not. The suspense is fucking killing me.”
“Sierra Medina,” he said, emphasizing a heavy roll of the r in my first name.
“You, the bantamweight underdog, weigh in at one hundred and twenty-eight pounds. Felicidades*, mami. You did that shit!” Before my brain even registered it, I let out a scream, stepping off the scale and jumping around like a mad woman.
This was one of those times I so desperately needed a hug but refrained myself from overstepping his boundaries.
“I'm gonna have a burger or some fried seafood. Or a whole jar of peanut butter. Anything to make my stomach burst from excitement.” The pride in his expression had meant more to me than any hug could, as I questioned myself why. He wasn't anyone special, he was just my coach.
So why did it feel so good to be sharing this moment with him? And why did it feel so empty to stop? He clasped his hands behind his back, his facial expression engaging and whimsical. I was so used to dealing with the grump, it was unnerving to see what he looked like in a happy mood.
“I told you if you made weight, that I had a surprise for you.
And before you ask again, yeah, I wrapped it.
It's a gift. I like wrapping gifts to people,” he jested, handing me a long shirt box and a smaller jewelry box the size of my hand.
Feeling giddy, I ripped open the shirt box, pulling out the silk walkout jacket in the Puerto Rican flag colors: light blue, white, and red.
“La Loba*…” I read the nickname out to myself. The She Wolf. I know he had that rule about me crying, but in this instance, I hope he made an exception.
“In legend La Loba* is wild, truthful, instinctual, and in tune with her surroundings.
She makes note of her enemies. Protects her territory from intruders.
What you've shown me in the past few weeks is that you're a beast in that cage,” he remarked, as I opened the smaller box to unveil a mouth guard, it's design resembling the bearing of a wolf's teeth.
“You can't wear the jacket in a cage, but you can damn sure make an impression on your walk out. You step in that cage, you bear those teeth, and show that fulana* who the fuck you are!” I put in the mouth guard, it's design molding gently against my bite.
“And if I don't win?” He rested his palms against my shoulder, pointing me towards the full-length mirror.
“Well, then you make her remember you. This is your fight, your win. You see that face right there? That's the face of a woman who's ready to take her streak back. No exceptions. No failures.”
* Come on/Okay(especially in Caribbean Spanish, especially Puerto Rican)
* Has many contexts, in this moment it’s like saying “Ready?”
* Congratulations
* She wolf
* She wolf
* Has multiple meanings but in Cuban Spanish, it’s derogatory. It’s like saying Bitch