by Bailey Hull
The crowd’s frenzied energy is electric. It’s hard not to get caught up in it. The only thing that enables me to distance myself from the whole spectacle is the cold cruel reality of what is going on here. If Chase wins he and his fans will take a scorched earth approach to the whole problem with the Westsiders and soon it won’t be safe for anyone at that school who does not live east of the St. Lawrence. Revenge will be swift and all encompassing. So what happens if Brandon wins? The same damn scenario! And here’s the other uncomfortable reality of the whole situation; I helped bring all this about. I’m still helping…
The other question is what am I going to do about it? Is there any way to unite the two groups of students and the two sides of the town? I look down at my watch, It’s 8:57. The match is for 3 five minute rounds. That means I have no more than a half hour to come up with a plan and implement it; more time if neither man ends with a decisive victory. In other words, if both fighters are left standing at the end, the winner will be decided by the three guest judges and they will award points based on factors like how many strikes landed per how many thrown. Points will be awarded for submission holds, takedowns, and reversals. There’s probably more but that’s all I can remember from their website. There are two pages dedicated to the fighters in tonight’s match. Each fighter’s page has a couple pictures and brief bio. Even the color scheme is suspect. Chase’s page interestingly enough has a grey color scheme, just like that of the Confederate Army so long ago. It makes me wonder what this says about the UCC. This is their website after all.
“Isn’t this so exciting?” Megan screams in my ear.
“It’s incredible.” I reply. I’m aware of the fact that I should appear happy about all this but I’m just not that good an actor.
“Who do you think’s gonna win?” I ask her.
“I don’t know.” She replies. “But if that bastard wins tonight we’ve got a little surprise planned for him.”
“Way to go Megs!” I reply with an Academy Award winning smile.
“That’s better.” Megan replies. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile all evening. You okay Jordy?”
“Yeah…I’m just stressed about this fight.”
“Hey it’s okay Jordy. I know you’re rooting for our guy but you don’t want to see Brandon really get hurt and wind up in the hospital. Chase really wants to win, but I don’t think he wants to put the guy in the hospital either. There is honor among fighters Jordan and most actually like each other when it really comes down to it. Hell a lot of them train together in the same gyms. It’s gonna be okay no matter who wins.”
While I appreciate her little pep talk just then I can’t forget that two seconds ago she just confessed to having a nasty surprise if the bastard wins tonight. A sudden cheer erupts from the crowd. I look up to the cage just in time to see both boys explode into action. This is unreal. I’m so close that if the boys will just move three more feet in my direction and I’ll need an umbrella to shield me from droplets of sweat and the spray of blood.
Suddenly Brandon stumbles backwards in my direction until his broad back is stopped by the wire mesh of the cage. I can see his head snapping from side to side from every vicious punch Chase lands. I blink but not fast enough as a cut is opened up above his left eye. As his head is snapped around I can see the bright red gash. Now every time Chase lands a blow there the tear in his skin widens. I’m just about to close my eyes in disgust when Chase fires off a strike with his left knee that appears to land right into Brandon’s crotch. The blow is so powerful that it lifts Brandon off his feet before he just slumps to the mat, curled up in a fetal position. I can see the agony etched in Brandon’s handsome face. Then it occurs to me. That’s an illegal blow. I actually raise my arms trying to get the referee’s attention but it does little good. Chase collapses on his fallen victim and begins to pummel his opponent. He maybe gets off maybe three or four punches before men in black and white striped shirts and black trousers tackle Chase dragging him off the fallen teenager. Almost immediately Chase’s corner is up in arms, screaming something at the refs and pointing to the clock posted in the ring. According to the official timer there should be 27 more seconds left in the round.
While medics check over Brandon the three refs stand in one corner discussing something while Chase and his people are talking about what’s going on as well.
“What’s going on?” I holler at Megan.
“That was an illegal blow!” She informs me. “You can’t strike anyone in the balls. That’s why they stopped the fight and are giving Brandon a chance to recover. If he’s unable to finish the fight they’ll make a ruling based on accumulated points before the illegal strike happened so Chase can still win. So can Brandon of course but Chase so far is kicking your bro’s ass.”
“Yeah I kinda noticed that.”
Presently Brandon gets up off the mat and limps over to his corner where his trainer hands him an ice bag. Brandon holds it gently over his crotch. I guess he’s not going to be in any amorous mood for a while.
“Brandon have a girlfriend?” Megan asks with a smirk.
“I don’t think so.” I lie.
“Hope not. Poor guy’s gonna be celibate till his twenty-one after this fight.”
She laughs at her own lame attempt at humor and I force myself to join in but secretly in my heart I ache for Brandon, The Beast, Taylor. He doesn’t look much like a beast anymore. He resembles a kitten more like.
After a couple minutes the announcer approaches the center of the cage with microphone in hand. He basically says what everyone else has figured out. Chase did an extremely illegal strike and as a result he’ll lose five points. The first round will begin again with only the time that was left on the clock when the illegal strike occurred. That means Brandon only has to last just under half a minute before the bell will sound ending the first round. I sure hope his trainer has some brilliant strategy here to win because Brandon doesn’t look like hell last much longer.
The rest of the first round goes pretty much as expected with Brandon just trying to survive for 27 seconds. Ten minutes later the twenty-seven seconds left in round one finally ticks down to zero. I realize it was less than half a minute, but if it seemed like ten minutes to me it must have felt like an eternity to Brandon. When he finally returns to his corner his trainer does something highly unusual. Just as Brandon is about to collapse onto his stool the new ex-MMA champ turned trainer blocks his way, gets in my boy’s face and begins to yell and he doesn’t stop until the bell sounds for round two. Something has changed in Brandon. When he staggered back to his corner, defeat was written all over his face and in his body language. By the time the bell sounds for round two Brandon is a frenetic force of energy looking for someone to explode onto. Suddenly the size of the fight in the dog named Brandon Taylor is positively beast-like! He literally charges across the cage and straight into Chase who by dumb luck gets off a pretty solid crack across Brandon’s jaw but it fails to register. Brandon ducks down and tackles Chase like a football player taking the bigger boy to the mat. They both go down with a thud vibrating the mat and my teeth. Before Chase can even begin to defend himself Brandon is alternating between punches and elbows when suddenly Chase goes limp. Brandon gets off maybe three more blows before being tackled by referees and dragged off the unconscious boy. My group of fans are deathly quiet while across the stage its pandemonium! After the beating Chase had given Brandon I don’t think there’s a person in the arena that expected this kind of turn around! Medics surround Chase. Pretty soon the head medic consults with the head referee who after a few seconds throws in his own white towel stopping the fight dead. Chase is still out cold!
Now my side erupts. People are screaming and shouting curses at the refs for stopping the fight and at Brandon for kicking Chase’s ass! The place is going nuts. I try to look back beyond the throng of teenagers to see if the adults in the audience are reacting the same way. They’re cheering but are so much more restrain
ed in their reactions on both sides of the arena. Abruptly another thought hijacks my brain. I was supposed to think of a way to ward off the impending reaction should Chase lose the fight. Well, he lost but I have no idea what to do about it. I turn to talk to Megan to see if I can find out what the Eastside Pride’s plans are but she has strangely disappeared. That can only mean trouble.
I need to get to Brandon. That’s the only way I’m going to be able to protect him. I’m hoping that just by virtue of me being with him will forestall any serious problems. So with those thoughts in mind I work my way around the stage to the corridor that leads back to the locker rooms. When I get to the entrance of the lockers I am of course stopped by a security guard.
“Sorry ma’am, I can’t allow you back here. Only fighters, trainers, and medical personnel allowed.”
“I’m his sister.” I plead. “And I need to give him his medicine. He left it at home and if he doesn’t take it in…I look at my watch then give an Oscar winning performance. “If he doesn’t take this in three minutes his blood pressure is going to shoot through the roof. Do you know what happens when your blood pressure hits two hundred plus?”
The guard shakes his head. He was adamant about stopping but now I can see the hesitation in his mind. To emphasize my point I hold up a bottle of Tylenol and shake it so he can’t read the label.
“He’s going to have a stroke I shout in my shrillest voice. Do you know how to do CPR? I don’t, but one of us is going to have to figure it out because by the time a doctor wades his way through the crowd and back here to do it for us it’s going to be too late.”
Still, after all that he remains indecisive. I shake the bottle of pills in his face again.
“Make up your mind mist-”
“Jordan?”
Standing behind the guard is none other than Brandon.
“Brandon, he won’t let me back to see you. I told him about your medicine you forgot and he refuses to let me back here. He even threatened to have me arrested.”
“Now wait a second.” The guard protests. “I never said anything about arresting you.”
“Well can I go back there then?” I shake the tiny bottle of medicine again in the guards face.”
“Of course ma’am.” He says as he steps out of my way.
I smile wickedly as I pass by, letting the bottle of pills fall out of my hands onto the ground.
“Wait a second miss.” He says as he picks up the bottle of pills. “You dropped his medication.”
“Oh that?” I say back over my shoulder as I walk by. “I don’t know whose those are. I just found them on the ground back there. You should probably turn them in to the lost and found.”
“What?” He fumes.
I grab Brandon’s arm. “Hurry up!” I snap, pulling him after me and back into the locker rooms.
“What’re you doing back here Jordy?” He asks.
“Now that is an excellent question.” I reply.
“And?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well if you can wait for my trainer to work me over a bit then you can give me a ride home. He’s just going to work my muscles with some salves so I don’t wake up tomorrow in too much pain to function.”
“You don’t need a trainer for that Brandon. I’d be happy to rub all over you.”
“I’m sure you would Jordy. Let my trainer do his bit then I might take you up on your offer.”
“Fine but don’t make me wait too long buddy.”
Chapter Fourteen
Calm Before the Storm
It’s nearing midnight by the time we get home and I still haven’t come up with a game plan for Brandon to stay safe. Actually he won’t be the only person in danger. Every person wearing the green bracelet or anyone not wearing the red and white badge is likely to be the target of some kind of violence. I’m thinking this is going to be some sleepless nights for me. Monday I’m going to have to be the secret buffer between the kids from the West side of the river and the 85% from the East side. If anyone even suspects that my loyalty is divided then I’ll be in more trouble than anyone at that school. And if this is bigger than just our school then I could be in far more danger than I’ve ever suspected. I decide to go to UCC’s website to see what they’re saying about the fight and see what people are saying in the comments section. I’m just firing up my computer when I get a text from Megan.
“Meet me at Pete’s Coffee tomorrow at 7:30 am. There’s someone who wants to meet you.”
That’s odd. What’s so freaking important that I have to go there that early on a Sunday? I text her back.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. I’ll be there at 9:15” I protest.
“Has to be 7:30. I promise it’ll be worth it.” She texts back.
“Who wants to meet me?” I reply.
“You’ll have to wait till tomorrow Jordy.”
“Fine…I’ll be there.”
“Bye.”
So much for sleeping in tomorrow. I decide to check in on Brandon just to make sure he’s okay. He may have won but he took a beating in the first round.
I knock softly on his door.
“Come on in doc.” He calls through the door.
“Doc?” I ask as I walk in.
“Aren’t you here to put me back together?” He asks.
“That depends on what your definition of put me back together is.”
“Um…the good kind?”
I turn and shut the door and lock it. Brandon looks absolutely stunning standing in the silvery moonlight. As I approach him his blue-green eyes gleam back at me.
“I’ve got this pain.” He says, pointing to his lap and the towel that’s wrapped around his waist precariously. What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I’ll need to take a closer look.”
He lets his towel drop to the floor. I force myself to look into his dreamy eyes while reaching down to take his cock into my hands.”
“Well doc.” He asks, “What is it?”
“When you have something this small it can be quite difficult to determine exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“You know what they say, it’s not the size that matters, it’s what you do with it.”
“In that case,” I reply. You’d better be a damn genius.”
“Is that your professional opinion doctor? Would you say you’re very experienced in this matter, moderately experienced, or practically virginal?”
“When it comes to the bedroom, you could say I have a PhD”
“Well how about you put some of that schooling to good work.” He replies.
“Lemme just grab my tools then.”
“What sort of tools do you need doc?”
“A pair of tweezers and a magnifying glass for starters would be nice.”
Our love play starts on a light note and pretty much stays that way. We give as good as we get both physically and verbally because neither of us are a slouch in either department. When I walked into Brandon’s room I was a 110 pound ball of stress. I was wound so tight it wouldn’t have taken much to set me off. Tonight Brandon was the yen to my yang and it was just what I needed. When I finally return to my room it’s nearing three in the morning. 7:30 is going to come early tomorrow.
When I finally drag my ass out of bed it’s six forty-five in the morning. I have exactly thirty minutes to shower and get dressed if I’m going to have a prayer of being on time for his very important meeting.
I am dying of curiosity. Who could possibly want to meet me before school today? Maybe this is Megan’s way of arranging a date for me and some cute but super shy boy. Nah…I highly doubt that. I get to Pete’s five minutes early hoping to corner Megan and pick her brains before some stranger ambushes me. Soon as I walk through the door I spot her near the front sipping coffee. I take a seat across from her.
“So what’s with the cloak and dagger Megs?”
“It’s just like I said Jordy. Somebody wants to meet you, but with both
your schedule and his it makes a first meeting next to imposs-. Oh, there he is.” She says standing up in her seat.
I decide to follow suit and join her. Standing before of us is a business man in his forties by the looks of him. His suit fairly shouts success, as does his leather shoes. I can see a gold watch peeking out from beneath his white long sleeve button down shirt. His smile reveals a perfectly white, well-cared for grill. His face is tanned naturally. Probably sneaks away to some Caribbean island during the worst part of the winter.
He extends his hand to shake. “Hello Jordan.” He says. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“And I’ve heard so little about you.” I reply. I decide to make him work for it. If he wants to get to know me or to find out anything about me he’s going to have to work at it.
“I have to apologize for getting you out of bed so early but I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’m listening.”
“I represent Cornerstone Investments, a local real estate firm on Fourth and Howard. I’m also on the school board. We are trying to develop some land west of the St. Lawrence River as well as build affordable housing east of the river.”
“What’s this got to do with me?”
“We’ll get to that. There are exactly 239 students that live on the West side of the river and every one of those students is getting a free ride at the school. That means that each student doesn’t have to pay the $18,750 it costs each year to attend Lincoln High. If you multiply that out over the four years, 9-12 you’ve got a total that just comes under 18 million dollars! Each family that sells their home to us will no longer qualify for a scholarship because of the money made from the sale of their home. It actually won’t end up that high though because some student’s families owe money on their homes so they may still qualify for a scholarship in later years. There are also 72 new students who are projected to start the ninth grade over the next four years as well. If you figure commissions from sales that number starts climbing back towards that 18 million mark. Then add the new students starting and suddenly that mark is well north of 18 million. Of course we’ll incentivize each student’s family to move east of the St. Lawrence into our new affordable housing units and they should be happy to move. As I hear tell, it’s pretty unpopular at school if you aren’t wearing an Eastside Pride badge. Think of the school unity if every student at Lincoln High wore the red and white badge proudly and not some flimsy green band.”