Extra Credit

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 28

Lincoln
“Another knock-out, baby!” Andrew barged through the changing room 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 had 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 manoeuvre. 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 out of any other opportunity in the country. 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 fight 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 unravelled my hand wraps. “Everything okay between you too?”

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 descriptor…”

“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.”