March 21st rolled around quicker than I expected, the day the fights were set to resume.
After the heart-to-heart with my mom, I helped her land on her feet again, securing her a job as a waitress at Mollyâs Diner.
Molly wasnât initially on board, but once I spilled the beans about what had happened to both her and Nancy, she was quick to agree.
Nancy, however, wasnât as quick to forgive. It took her a good two weeks to get over the fact that I hadnât told her sooner. Sheâs still not my momâs biggest fan, but they manage to be civil around each other.
A smile tugged at my lips as I thought about Blake and me. Heâs been a great boyfriend. He takes me out on dates at least once a week, always making sure to shower me with love and affection.
I wonât lie, itâs a bit unnerving how gentle he can be around me, but Iâve grown accustomed to it. He only ever lets his guard down when itâs just the two of us.
One day, I asked him about it, and his response was so cheesy it was endearing. âEvery good girl needs a bad boy to be soft for them, just like every bad boy needs a good girl to be bad for them.â
I laughed for a solid five minutes before agreeing with him. It was true. Every girl wants that, and so does every guy. I still donât quite get the whole âOpposites attractâ thing, though.
Blakeâs family adores me, especially Anya. I make it a point to take her out to parks and movies whenever I can. Itâs nice to have a little sister figure to look after.
Sara definitely returned the favor for the gifts I got her and her family. Just two weeks ago, when Blake and I got back from a movie, she surprised me with a bag full of presents.
She got me several cute tops, pants, and shorts, a $20 gift card to Macyâs, and even a pair of purple boxing gloves.
At first, I was worried she might know my secret, but she explained that Blake had told her I was really into boxing. I was relieved she didnât know about me being White Wolf. I wasnât sure how sheâd react.
Right now, I was at the gym, training for tonightâs fights. Since it was the start of a new season, I was kicking off with three fights. It would start at eight and wrap up around ten PM.
I took a deep breath, focusing on the red punching bag hanging from the ceiling in a private room.
It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and the weather was perfect. Around seventy degrees Fahrenheit, not too cold, not too hot.
People at school took some time to adjust to the fact that Blake and I were dating. Ashley practically had a meltdown the first time she saw us kiss.
I got a lot of hate from my peers, and Blake got his fair share of nasty comments, too. At first, I felt guilty for dragging Blake into this.
He was getting bullied because of me, but he brushed it off like it was nothing and continued being with me. Nick never left his side, though.
So, I knew that Nick was a true friend to him. Nick turned out to be not so bad after all. Blake got Nick to hang out with us once, and it ended up in a water gun fight. It was every man for himself.
Of course, I won. So, Nick and I were on good terms. He seems to be pretty cool with me as well. Sometimes, heâll even talk to me at school.
Just like Blake, he ignores every single comment that gets thrown his way for so much as looking at me.
Thinking about all the judgmental people at my school only seemed to fuel my anger, though. I landed another punch on the bag and ducked left, before punching the bag lower.
On a real person, I wouldâve just punched their lower abdomen when I ducked down.
A thin layer of sweat covered my forehead and I was panting heavily. Iâd been training every three days since last week. Last week, I started training every day.
It was just last week, when I decided that I would be done with boxing by the end of June, in three months. I graduate on June thirteenth, on a Friday.
Graduation was so close, and it got me thinking about my future. What would happen to Blake and I? Would we break up? Would we work something out?
I know I wonât do a long-distance relationship. I see no point in it. Would we just go our separate ways after graduation?
I shook my head, pushing the thoughts away. I couldnât think about that right now. I just had to let things happen. I had to go with the flow.
I thought, landing a fierce kick on the bottom of the bag.
After about another half hour, I stopped and went to my bag, grabbing my bottle of water. I took a long, refreshing gulp of water, wiping my mouth afterwards. I sighed, leaning my back against the wall behind me.
I was exhausted, but I knew I had to conserve my strength and energy for tonight. Blake said he would be in the front row, cheering me on. I could see the hidden worry and fear for me in his eyes.
He didnât want me to fight, because now that we were dating, heâs more protective. I know he would never tell me how much he really cares, but he doesnât need to. His actions speak louder than his words.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the sound of the door opening. My head snapped up, and my eyes met a pair of dark grey orbs.
I smiled as Blake walked in, locking the door behind him. In two short steps, Blake was right next to me. He leaned in, giving me a light peck on the cheek, before giving me a gentle kiss.
I smiled into the kiss, loving the warmth and electric sparks it seemed to bring me. âHey,â he said, pulling back.
I let out a small chuckle. âHi, Blake. What brings you here?â I asked, taking off the purple gloves his mom gave me.
Blake smiled down at me. His gaze took in my black boxing shorts, purple sports bra, and tied up messy hair. Blake grinned and shook his head.
âNot sure I like this,â he paused, taking the hair tie out of my hair, letting my hair fall in curly waves past my shoulders. Blake nodded his head.
âMuch better. And, canât a guy come see his girlfriend?â he asked innocently, wrapping his arms around my slim waist.
I looked at him with raised eyebrows. âYou do know Iâve been training, right? Meaning, Iâm kind of sweaty,â I told him, chuckling at the end.
Blake just shrugged and tightened his grip around me. âYeah, I know. But it honestly just makes you look even sexier.â he whispered huskily in my ear.
I shudder in his embrace, swallowing hard. His lips find my neck, and he starts his familiar routine. It seems heâs made it his mission to always leave a âmarkââa hickeyâon my neck, a public declaration that Iâm off the market.
At first, it annoyed me, but Iâve grown accustomed to it. Besides, Iâve realized he just wants another excuse to leave hickeys on me.
I stifle a moan as he finds my sweet spot. He knows how to drive me wildâboth in my head and my body.
âSo, how was your day, babe?â he asks, his chin resting on my head after leaving his âclaimâ.
I roll my eyes at the abrupt shift in conversation. âMy day was good. Iâm actually really looking forward to the fights tonight,â I say, grinning.
I canât wait to get back in the ring. It feels like Iâve been waiting forever for this day, and now that itâs here, I plan on making these the best fights for the next three months.
I feel Blake nod his agreement. âYeah, Iâm happy for you, too.â His voice is strained, and I know it took a lot for him to even say that much.
I turn in his arms to meet his gaze. Blakeâs eyes are so expressive, I can see every emotion in them.
I see his worry and fear for me, a glimmer of joy, and a mix of happiness and some other emotion I canât quite place.
I rise on my tiptoes and press my lips to his in a passionate kiss. When I pull back, weâre both panting and his eyes are closed.
Itâs as if heâs savoring the moment.
âI promise, Iâll be fine, Blake,â I assure him, reaching up to cup his cheek. His hand comes up to cover mine.
I smile at how my small hand fits in his large, warm one.
âI know. I just donât want to see you get hurt,â he admits.
I give him a crooked smile. Itâs moments like these, when he lets his guard down and shows his softer side, that I cherish.
âBlake, Iâm bound to get hurt. I never leave those matches without at least a few bruises. But itâs going to be okay. Just remember that Iâll still be alive, walking, and breathing, okay?â I tell him.
He nods, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
âAlright. Just, try not to get hurt too much. Iâd prefer my girlfriend without any broken bones,â he teases, smiling. I grin back at him, admiring his perfect, white teeth.
I nod, leaning up to give him another quick kiss, before pulling back. âIâll see you in the crowd.â I wink at him.
***
Itâs eight oâclock when the first bell rings. I size up my opponent.
He looks to be in his early twenties, with jet-black hair that falls over his eyes and is swept to the side, wearing black boxing shorts. He has a nose and eyebrow piercing, too.
A black spiral tattoo winds from his back to the front of his chest. I can already see a weak spot in his stance.
His fists are up, protecting his face, and his feet are spread, but his stomach is wide open. For a split second, my eyes flick to his exposed stomach, and he makes the mistake of following my gaze.
I seize the opportunity, and am the first to land a punch, my right fist connecting with his left jaw. He staggers back from the force, shaking his head and spitting blood to the side.
My hood is still up as he glares at me. I glare back, struggling to hide my grin at his angry expression.
He lunges forward, raising his left fist, but I dodge to the left and kick his shin. He falls, and I quickly straddle his waist.
I start raining punches down on his face, and he does his best to block them. As the fight goes on, heâs still blocking, but I can see heâs starting to tire. Eventually, he raises his hand to the mat and taps out.
I grin wider and climb off of him.
After he leaves and Iâm announced the winner of that match, the next guy steps in. He looks to be in his late twenties, with short, dirty blond hair and red boxing shorts.
His piercing blue eyes glare at me, and I know heâs not one to underestimate me because Iâm a girl.
As soon as the bell rings, he lunges. Iâm caught off guard for a moment as he lands a punch on my left cheek. I bite my lip, quickly ducking his other blows.
I seize the opportunity to tackle him, grabbing his legs. He starts hitting me on the head, but I manage to flip us over.
Now heâs on top, and I use my feet to kick him off.
He groans in pain and I huff in frustration. Iâm definitely going to have a nasty purple bruise on my left cheek tomorrow.
I turn to him after hearing his groan. I walk over, lift his face from the ground, and pull back my fist. I punch him hard in the nose, knocking him out cold.
The last fight is one I know will be easy. The guy looks like heâs either eighteen or nineteen. Heâs young and inexperienced. His stiff posture and slightly shaking fist give him away.
I roll my eyes at his feeble attempt to punch me as soon as the bell rings. I easily sidestep and jab my elbow into his back.
He hisses in pain as I then drive my knee into his abdomen. His breath comes in ragged gasps as his oxygen is momentarily cut off.
I lean down and whisper in his ear.
âWord of advice, honey, never fight a pro when youâre an amateur.â Then, I pull my right elbow back as far as I can, before driving it into his head with full force.
The boy crumples to the ground after I let go, and I grin at my cheering fans.
My gaze finds Blakeâs, and I grin under my hood at his proud smirk. It feels good to be back.