by Natasja Eby
Then he says, “You don’t have to follow me, Elli.”
“I’m not following you,” I say indignantly. “We have math together.”
“Oh, yeah,” he mumbles.
I pull on his arm to stop him before he goes into the classroom. “Julian, there’s still time to pick up your grades.” I meant to say something encouraging about the tournament but that’s all I could come up with.
“I know that,” he snaps and I wonder why he seems so mad at me.
All throughout math class I stare at the back of Julian’s head (because he insists on sitting in the front row and I’m not in a front row kind of mood). I’m trying to understand why he’s so upset with me, in particular, when it hits me. Earlier he said “this tournament that I don’t even want to do.” Meaning, he’s still only doing it for me. But is he really still holding a grudge over that? And why? He could have dropped out of the tournament at any point. I never forced him to exercise or train, and I never made him have his parents sign the paperwork.
The longer I sit in class behind his stupid head, the angrier I get that he’s angry at me. Finally, in the middle of the teacher’s lesson, I stick up my hand, tell him I’m not feeling well, and gather my things and leave. I don’t look back to see if Julian’s looking or not, but I don’t care.
I stalk down the halls until I make it to the back doors that lead to the football field. There’s a group of guys in football gear stretching on the ground, running laps, and pushing blocking dummies across the field. And of course I see Adrian—who I guess needs something to do now that hockey is over—doing a warm-up jog. He alters his course so that he’s running straight towards me. How does he always seem to know when I’m around?
“Hawaii,” he says in greeting with a little half grin. “Big day’s coming up.”
“Yeah,” I answer.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyebrows lowered in concern.
“Julian’s all mad at me because it’s my fault he joined the tournament,” I blurt out. “It’s like I forced him into it. And I guess I forced all those people to help him out and be nice to him and want to hang out with him and make him super popular. Is that what he thinks? Because, if so, then I’m so sorry that people think he’s cool.”
“Is that really why he’s mad?” Adrian asks sceptically.
I shrug, not really able to look Adrian in the eye. “He thinks he’s going to lose badly and maybe he thinks everyone will treat him differently afterwards.”
“Maybe he thinks you’ll treat him differently afterwards,” Adrian suggests softly.
“What?” I say, finally looking up at him.
Adrian hesitates. “Maybe he’s afraid of being a failure in your eyes. Not theirs.”
“I don’t think he’s a failure,” I say firmly.
“We all know that,” Adrian says, and I can tell he’s trying to be patient with me. “All you ever say is how good Julian is at boxing, how great he’s going to do at the tournament. But what if he doesn’t? What if he gets knocked out in the first round?”
“He won’t—”
“But what if he does?” Adrian persists. “Will you think any differently of him? Would you still be so supportive?”
“Obviously,” I say. But I see Adrian’s point. I begrudgingly nod my head. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. But what do you expect me to do? Tell him he’ll never make it but it’s okay because I’m still his friend?”
Adrian sighs. “No…not like that. But you could put a little less pressure on him.”
“I didn’t realize I was pressuring him,” I say in a small voice. Maybe Adrian’s right, though. Maybe Julian feels like I’ve put too much on him.
“Well…”
“Okay, I get it,” I say, giving his shoulder a little push. “Geez, when did you become so touchy-feely?”
Adrian smirks, and I can tell he feels like he won something. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to keep.”
I don’t want Adrian to think he has total control in this conversation, so I put my hands around his head, pull him in for a quick kiss and then say, “Your secret’s safe with me.”
The wide-eyed look on his face as I wave goodbye is totally worth it.
***
Three days until the tournament. That’s all that’s left. Julian and I are in my basement with Dan, trying to cram in as much last-minute training as we can without hurting ourselves. I haven’t had a chance yet to really talk to Julian, to apologize or try to smooth things over. After I left math today, we didn’t see each other, and since he got to my house we’ve just been in go mode.
Dan is watching me doing forms, picking apart every single movement I’m making. I’m trying not to sigh every single time he barks out an order or tells me to “do it again with feeling,” but it’s getting increasingly difficult. I meet Julian’s eyes and he gives me a sympathetic look which makes me feel a little better.
My uncle’s cell phone starts ringing and I stop moving and give him a hopeful look. Maybe he’ll let me take a little break…
Dan rolls his eyes and then takes his phone out of his pocket. “Okay, have a break while I take this.” He waves his hand impatiently as he walks away from us.
Julian comes over to me as I try to fix the tape on my hands. I can’t quite meet his eyes and I’m not sure what to say to him.
“You’re too tense, Ella,” he says gently. He takes my hands and adjusts the tape for me. “You need to loosen up a bit.”
I look up at him, surprised that he’s trying to help me. “I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be sorry to me,” he says. “I just don’t want you to freeze up in the ring. You can hurt yourself.”
“Not for that,” I say. I’m caught off guard by how nice he’s being, but it makes apologizing easier. “I’m sorry that I got you into this mess. And that I haven’t been…as supportive as I should have been.”
Jules raises an eyebrow at me. “What are you talking about? You’ve been nothing but supportive.”
“I just mean…” How do I say this without sounding like a jerk? “I want you to know that even if you don’t beat Red—which I totally think you could—I’ll still be here for you. You know? You’ve been my friend since the first day you met me and I want to be just as good a friend to you.”
Jules scrunches up his eyebrows and just stares at me for a minute. Then his face breaks out into a grin. “Ella, I think we both know that I’m not going to win. But thank you. I really appreciate it.”
I smile. “You could do it, you know. I still believe in you.”
“Thanks.” He hesitates a moment and then says, “I’m sorry, too. For snapping at you today. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Maybe I did,” I say with a shrug.
“You’re my best friend,” he says meaningfully. “I never want to treat you like that.”
His comment makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I want to say something nice back, but I don’t get a chance because Dan comes back with a scowl on his face and claps his hands twice, which is my cue to retake my stance and continue doing my forms.
***
I leave our training session early because tonight I have to go to the rink to help set up for the Home Show that’s going on this weekend. Cherry’s parents know that I can’t be here on Saturday to help out because of the tournament, but they do need a lot of help to get the place ready to open tomorrow. Apparently the Home Show is a big deal for the home reno companies that showcase their services throughout the weekend.
I’m duct taping some cords down to the floor when I hear an annoyed voice above me ask, “What are you doing here?”
I don’t need to see the star-studded black rain boots to know that Cherry is standing over me, probably giving me a disapproving look.
“What does it look like?” I say, immediately regretting mirroring her tone of voice.
“It looks like you’re not getting ready for your tournament,” she says as she lowers her
self to the ground. She wordlessly picks up the duct tape and helps me finish taping down my section of the cords.
“I still have a job,” I say to her.
“You should be training,” Cherry says emphatically. She stands up with me. “I’ll go see if you can leave early.”
She almost starts walking away, but I grab her arm first. “Cherry, don’t worry. I already did my training after school today. It’s okay. Besides—I’m not the one who has to fight Red, remember?”
“Still…” Cherry actually sounds like she feels bad that I’m there.
“It’s okay, really.” I smile at her to show that I’m not as cranky as I first sounded. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s the Home Show,” she says matter-of-factly, leading me to the next section that needs taping. “My parents always freak out because it’s their biggest money-maker for spring and if I don’t help out then I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Does that mean you’ll miss the fight on Saturday?” I ask. It hadn’t occurred to me that Cherry wouldn’t be going, but now that I’m thinking about it, I wonder if she had ever planned to go.
Cherry just shrugs and starts ripping off long lengths of duct tape. I help her for a few minutes, waiting for her to elaborate, but she never does.
“I know you don’t like the idea,” I say gently, “but I think Julian would really like it if you were there.”
“Why? So he can show off his masculine prowess to me?” she blurts, punctuating her rhetorical question by rapidly ripping off some duct tape.
“No,” I answer. “So that he can have people who care about him there to support him. No matter what happens.”
Cherry’s eyes widen slightly. “You don’t think he can win?”
I smile a little, thinking about how well Julian boxes compared to me. But I know, having never seen him in the ring, it’s anyone’s bet. “I think Julian can do anything he sets his mind to. But just because he loses a match doesn’t mean he has to lose his friends, right?”
“I guess you’re right,” she agrees and I almost want to cheer. But I don’t, because that would be weird, and it might also make her change her mind.
But there’s one more thing I have to push for. “We’re going to the dance after, too.”
“Together?” she asks a little too loudly, and I know I’ve got her.
I smile on the inside, but outwardly I laughed airily. “Not like that. As a group. Me and the girls, and him and…Adrian’s going, too.”
Cherry rolls her eyes and then grins at me. “Oh, Elli. You really think the whole school doesn’t see how gaga you two are over each other?”
I cringe. “Is it that obvious?”
Cherry laughs, which is all the answer I really need. “Look, thanks for the invite, but—”
I have to think of something quickly before she says no, so I blurt out, “Julian really wants you to go but doesn’t think you’d say yes if he asked.”
I can’t even pretend that’s not a lie. It is. You know it is because Julian himself hasn’t even said for sure that he’s going.
“Really?” Cherry asks softly, insecurely.
“I wasn’t supposed to say that.” That, at least, is the truth. “But yes. Come on, it’ll be fun. And I promise not to do anything stupid with you guys.”
“Oh, well…” I hold my breath and wait for the answer, which is a satisfying, “Okay, fine.”
“Yay!” I proclaim, making Cherry look around us subconsciously. I grab her hands and say, “It’s going to be so much fun.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, pulling her hands away. “Now back to work, or I’m sending you home to do more…whatever it is you boxers do.”
I laugh. Everything is falling into place nicely. Now all I have to do is not get knocked out in the first round on Saturday.
CHAPTER twenty-two
I’m not shaking because I’m nervous for my match, or because my parents are sitting in the stands, or because the girls insist that we don’t talk to each other on tournament day, or because I’m not actually that good at boxing, or even because I know that my parents are going to take me out to dinner and Dan will be there too and it’ll be awkward.
No, I’m nervous because Julian and Red’s fight is a mere 20 minutes away. And I can’t even stay with him because the boys and girls are in their own separate locker rooms. I’ll only be able to go out to watch him fight, but I’ve already chewed off all of my nails and have none left for when I’m watching.
I’m rubbing my forehead pretty vigorously when Emily breaks the code to say to me, “Relax, Elli. Tensing up will only make you feel worse.”
I look into her kind eyes. I appreciate her words, but they won’t do a thing for Julian. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” I say quietly, while the other girls give us warning looks.
Emily gives me an understanding smile and nods, but doesn’t say anything else. I’m not sure what to do with myself, so I take my cue from the others and sit on the ground to do some stretches. I have to say though, we all look pretty cute in our boxing gear. Underneath the little boxing shorts and short tank tops, we’re all wearing these weird chest protectors. It’s like, a bra times a thousand, and it’s weird but totally necessary.
One of the female gym teachers—whose name I don’t know, because I’m not actually in gym class—comes in to tell us there’s five minutes until the fight and that we can go out if we want to watch. Of course we all go out and discover that almost everyone in the upper grades has come to watch. The school must have made some good money off selling all those tickets.
Red and Julian haven’t been announced yet, so they’re not in the ring. Dan is standing in one corner, so I go up to the ring and ask the ref—who turns out to be our librarian, Mr. Pfizer—if it’s okay to stay on that side. It’s a little unconventional, but since Dan is my trainer too, Mr. Pfizer allows it.
“Are you nervous?” I ask my uncle.
He turns to me and after a moment’s pause, says, “He’ll be fine.”
I smile at Dan and am rewarded with the first smile he’s given me since before I found him drunk at that bar. Dan is a tough coach, but I don’t think Julian and I would have learned to box any other way. He kept us motivated, pushed us to our limits, and made us do the hard stuff. And I’m really grateful for that now.
As we wait for Julian and Red to come out, Dan tells me how they have both already defeated two other boxers and that this is the last match for the boys today. When he tells me about how well Julian did, I feel pride swelling inside me, but I’m also a little disappointed that I missed those two matches. At least we were allowed to come out for this one. I think the teachers knew that no one would want to miss it.
Finally, Julian and Red are announced and they both step up into the ring. I feel a little bad that everyone boos when Red is announced, until he steps up into the ring and raises a middle finger in the air. Then I join in with the booing. I wonder if Red is annoyed that he got stuck on the blue side, while Julian is wearing the red gear, and I have to stifle a giggle.
Julian, on the other hand, earns some ear-shattering screams when he walks out. I study his face while he and Dan get him ready for the fight. He’s got a little cut on the left corner of his mouth, but other than that, he looks okay. Calm even.
I catch his eye as Dan slips out of the ring and give him an encouraging smile. He doesn’t smile back, but his eyes soften a bit and I know he appreciates me standing in his corner. He holds out a gloved fist to me. I’m too far away to bump it, but I hold out my fist in his direction. He seems pretty confident, which is half of boxing anyway, right?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Principal Santini says into a mic to get everyone’s attention, “it’s finally time for the fight that you’ve all been waiting for! Our resident boxing champ for three years running, Red Jackson, versus newcomer challenger, Julian VanderNeen. Both young men have already defeated two different competitors and the winner of this match will go
on to the regional semi-finals.”
As everyone starts cheering, I scan the crowds. My parents came early when I told them Julian would be fighting before the girls got into the ring, which was nice of them. My gaze follows along the clapping, shouting audience until it lands on Adrian and Cherry who are sitting together. If it weren’t for the shared connection between me and them, they would probably never have attended a school event together. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
“Okay boys,” I hear the principal say to Red and Julian, his mouth turned away from the mic. “I want a fair, clean fight. You know the rules.” He picks the mic back up and says, “Let the fight begin!”
Even louder cheering erupts from the stands as Mr. Pfizer comes to the centre of the ring. He blows his whistle to signal the start of the match and quickly backs away as Red and Julian tap their gloves together. Red has a smug smirk on his face like he thinks the match is basically over. But I know that behind Julian’s calm façade lies a heart of determination and strength.
I have to remind myself that there are only three rounds which last three minutes each. Nine minutes in total. That’s how long Julian has to last.
Julian knows that Red never likes to throw the first punch, so he dances around, trying to force Red into making the first move. While they move, I compare them—Red is bulkier than Julian, stronger, and more experienced. But Julian is slightly taller and clearly lighter on his feet. I hope Jules realizes that and uses it to his advantage.
The boys dance around until Mr. Smith coaxes them, reminding them that someone has to make the first move or they will both forfeit. His words must have meant something to Red because he throws the laziest punch ever in Julian’s direction. Unfortunately, Julian doesn’t realize it’s a fake until it’s too late and Red lands a cross punch right to Julian’s chin.
To his credit, Julian recovers quickly, ducks another punch and hits Red square in the face. Red barely seems affected by it, though, and I think that must shake Julian’s confidence because the rest of the round is a disaster. Julian misses a majority of his punches and blocks, giving Red a huge advantage in terms of scoring. When the bell rings to signify the end of the first round, Julian drops his hands and quickly scoots out of the ring toward me and Dan.