Drawn to Fight: Zac & Evie

by Lilliana Anderson

  Lucas’ mouth drops open and his hand reaches up and touches his forehead.

  “She’s got you there, Luc,” I say with a smile, turning back to the fight just as the ref declares Zac as the overall winner.

  My mouth curves into a relieved smile. I’ve become invested in Zac’s triumph after watching him pummel opponent after opponent. I’ve never seen anything quite like it – he’s an animal; a very focused animal, but an animal nonetheless. And I can’t help but wonder how good he’d be with a little more training.

  “Maybe we should invite him to train at the gym,” Sisley suggests, as if she just read my mind.

  “Maybe,” I reply.

  “He’d be un-fucking-beatable if he trained with your dad,” Lucas adds.

  “True,” I reply, still watching him as he moves. It’s like watching a panther stalking his prey.

  “Maybe you want to train him yourself,” Sisley suggests with a sly elbow to my side. It jolts me out of my reverie.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m so not capable of that. Besides, he needs proper MMA type training. He’s probably already getting it. Why would he want to learn Aikido or Kick Boxing or something, when he can already do that?” I say, nodding my head toward him.

  “No way. That guy is just raw talent and power. He’s fighting for his life out there. You have a lot of knowledge to offer him,” Lucas muses.

  “You should ask him after,” Sisley says again.

  “Are you crazy? And where would I say that I met him? I’m supposed to be at home asleep, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. That would be a little weird,” she admits.

  “And my dad would see through any sort of lie. So, no, I’m not going to ask him to the gym”.

  “Besides, we don’t even know this guy. He could just be some sicko who loves to get another guy’s blood on his hands for fun,” Lucas says.

  “Don’t talk like that. Come on, look at him. The guy has a purpose,” I point out.

  “Sure he has a great purpose. Fighting for money is such a noble activity,” Lucas counters sarcastically. “But whatever, let’s just get out of here. The fight’s over, and if we stick around too long, I’ll never get the car out, and you, my friend, will get busted for sneaking out.”

  Four

  Zac

  “Tonight’s champion - Zac ‘Steel Fist’ Rivers!” The announcer calls, holding my arm up and spinning me in a slow circle as the crowd cheers. Some are busy collecting their winnings from betting, but most are cheering, happy after the violent show of the night. But that girl just standing there, smiling and clapping like she’s proud of me or something. It’s strange for me to see that. But in a way, it’s fitting because it was the way she was watching me that kept me going. I didn’t want her to see me go down. I wanted to show her that I could be more than the guy I was at school. I wanted to show her that here, I could win.

  She talks to her friends, then turns when one of them pulls at her arm, and I see the guy signal over his shoulder that he and the other girl want to go. Evie looks back at me once more. I meet her eyes. I don’t want her to go. But she nods to her friends, turning to step away from the cage.

  I don’t know what comes over me. But seeing her about to leave causes me to panic and forces me into action. I pull my arm from the announcer’s hand and run for the opening in the cage, pushing my way through the congratulatory crowd as I fight to get to her.

  “Evie!” I call out. But she can’t hear me over the noise. “Fuck! Move!” I push people left and right, their faces a blur in my urgency.

  Finally, I catch up to her, grabbing her shoulder to spin her around just before she gets to the edge of the crowd. She turns to me, her face set in a scowl at first. But,then she meets my eyes and this gorgeous smile spreads across her lips. Seeing that smile causes my insides to surge.

  I stand before her, my hands holding her in front of me. I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what I was planning to do or say when I got to her. I just knew that I couldn’t let her leave. Then she tilts her head in question, and I do something way out of character for me - I kiss her.

  There’s probably blood all over me, and I’m covered in dirt and sweat but I release her arms and take a hold of her face, my fingers sliding into her dark hair, and without hesitation, I bring my mouth down on hers.

  When our lips meet, it’s like a bunch of lights go off behind my eyes and this hunger grows inside me. I push my tongue between her lips, needing the kiss to deepen, wanting her taste in my mouth. She doesn’t fight me, but it takes her a moment to respond. And when she does, my whole world seems to stop. I can’t hear any of the cheering anymore. All I can hear is the sound of my heart combined with the sound of hers as our mouths move together, our tongues exploring, needing. It’s crazy the way I feel right now, and it’s crazy that I’m even doing this. I don’t do this kind of thing. I don’t get involved with the girls at fights. I don’t get involved, period. I just arrive, I fight, and I leave.

  Tonight is the first night I’ve made it from the beginning to the end and fought like I can’t be stopped. And it’s also the first night that she was here, watching me like the eye of a storm, all calm and quiet in the chaos around her. She grounded me.

  Slowly, I pull away, my breathing even heavier than it was when I was in the cage. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you,” I admit, gently caressing the soft skin on her face as I slowly lift my eyes to meet hers.

  Before I get a change to register her expression, I’m pulled away, and the last thing I see before the crowd fills the space between us is her beautiful eyes, wide and staring after me as she places her fingertips against her lips.

  “Come on, man, you can’t do this now,” Jason says in my ear. “Especially not with her. You’ve got winnings to collect, and then we need to get out of here. Keep your focus.”

  I nod. He’s right. I can’t be doing shit like this. I can’t get involved. Now is not the time. Even though I wish it was…

  ***

  With a pocket full of cash that is more than I could make in two months at my job as a delivery driver for the local florist, Jason and I get out of Londonderry and head back to Penrith.

  “How you feeling? Can you do it again next week?”

  “I don’t know, man. My ribs are fucking killing me. I don’t think they’re broken, but they’re definitely bruised. I might have to take a break.”

  “You won’t make as much money if you miss a week.”

  “I know. I just think I need a couple of weeks to heal. I’ll see how far this money stretches before I go back out there again.”

  “They’re gonna be pissed, bro. People love an unbeatable thumping machine.”

  “I don’t know about unbeatable. I just had a good night.”

  “Did it have anything to do with that girl? I saw you looking at her a hell of a lot when you should have had your head in the ring. It helped though, so I’m not complaining.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It doesn’t matter anyway. Listen, here’s your cut.” I slap his ten percent for being my trainer and ringside guy into his hand after he pulls up in front of my house and opens the door. “Thanks for keeping quiet about all this.” He doesn’t expect to be paid. But I insist. I don’t like owing anyone a favour.

  He shrugs it off and shakes his hand to refuse the money. “Yeah, well, he’s my fuckwit of a dad.”

  Taking a hold of his arm, I place the money in his hand again. “Take it.” Rolling his eyes, he slips it into his pocket and says goodbye as I get out of the car to head inside to get cleaned up. I’m fucking filthy from the fights.

  Standing under the warm water of the shower, I look down at the brown tinged water as it pools around my feet. Even in the dim candlelight, I can see the blood and dirt pouring off my body – evidence of my recent activities.

  Scrubbing at my skin with a bar of soap, I wince as I lift my arm. My ribs are hurting like crazy. Worse than I made out to Jason. I fucking hop
e they’re not broken.

  I close my eyes against the pain, trying to focus on something else, and the memory of that kiss presents itself in the forefront of my mind.

  I see it clearly, like a video that I can replay over and over again. Fuck, she’s beautiful. I’ve always thought so. The way her hair falls in a mess of curls about her face. It’s like she doesn’t give a shit about taming them but it suits her. She carries herself like a warrior woman who is untouchable by those around her. I’ve always admired that.

  Until I saw her by the band, I don’t think she’d ever noticed me before. Not like I noticed her, anyway. But that kiss…holy crap, I’ve never felt anything like it.

  A light knock sounds at the door, causing me to force the memory away before I get too lost in it. I turn my head as I hear the door open.

  “I won,” I say, in response to the sound, knowing my sister, Meg, is now in the room.

  “Are you hurt?” she asks.

  “Not much,” I lie, knowing that she’ll insist on me getting an x-ray if she knows about my ribs. And we can’t afford to call that kind of attention to ourselves. Not with our history anyway. “I’ll have a bruise or two. But, I’m ok.”

  I switch off the shower and wrap a towel around my waist before opening the curtain and stepping out, noticing how her eyes check me over for any sort of new damage because she doesn’t believe me. Well, I guess l wouldn’t believe me either. I lie to protect her all the time.

  “Just relax, I won. It’s a good thing. I can pay the electricity bill tomorrow. We’ll get our power back, and now I can pay the gas so we don’t lose the hot water and cooking. There’ll be plenty of money for food and we’ll all be fine. Be happy, Meg. If we’re struggling, people will notice.”

  “They’ll notice your black eyes more.”

  “I’ll lay low ‘til they’re gone.”

  “How can you lay low? You can’t deliver flowers to people’s doors looking like that. They won’t let you work.”

  I lean forward and press my lips to her forehead. “I can call in sick until I’m healed. We’re going to be ok.”

  “What about next week? Are you going to fight next week as well?”

  “No, I promised you I’d only fight when we needed money, OK?”

  Suddenly, she grips my arm. “Let me work as well. This doesn’t all have to be on you. I can quit school and…”

  ”No, you’re too smart to give up on your dreams, Meg. Look at me, I’m fine. It’s just surface bruises. And we have cash. We’re good.”

  “Until we run out again.”

  “I’ll win again. I can do this. I’m good at it.”

  “Just promise me that if you get hurt, you’ll give this all up and ask for help.”

  “I promise,” I say, leaving the bathroom to get dressed in my room.

  That was another lie. There is no way I’m going to stop. I’ve found something I’m good at – maybe even great at. And it’s something that could change our lives for the better. I don’t have Meg’s brains. All I have are my fists and my ability to take a solid punch. I’m not giving that up – not when my normal job doesn’t make enough to cover us. No, fighting is where it’s at. It’s the only thing I know how to do right.

  Five

  Evie

  “You seem distracted. Is everything OK with you and Sisley?” my mother asks the next day. I quickly turn to her, taking a moment to decipher what she actually said. I was a million miles away, reliving a certain kiss…

  “What? Oh, oh no. Everything’s fine. Why?”

  “Just asking. You’re normally busy with her and Lucas on the weekends.”

  “Nah, they’re probably off doing their own thing.”

  “Is their relationship getting hard to be around?” she asks, as she reaches out and gently touches my chin, lifting my head so she can study my face.

  “Not at all, mum. It’s fine. We’re all fine. I’m just studying for exams. There’s only a couple of weeks to go. So…”

  “OK, I get it. I’ll leave you to it.” She takes a step away but pauses. “You know, most kids your age are out clubbing or partying. They don’t spend their weekends studying if they can help it.”

  “I’m pretty sure Dad would kill me if I started clubbing.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He’d just worry because he remembers what it was like. But we trust you.”

  Sitting up from where I’ve been curled up on the couch, I press my lips together and wonder whether I should tell her where I actually was last night. But then I shake my head, figuring that they wouldn’t understand. They’d just see that it’s an underground fight and that would be the end of it. “It’s OK, mum. I’m really not interested in clubbing. I don’t like dancing, and I’m much not into drinking.”

  She smiles down at me. “You are so your father’s daughter,” she muses.

  “Speaking of dad, where is he?” I ask, in an attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction.

  “Oh, he’s at the shop. He has a back piece he’s working on,” she explains.

  “That one with the whole heaven and hell theme he was sketching out this week?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. They finalised the artwork yesterday and the client will be sitting for it for a few months until it’s finished. It’s pretty big,” she says, before excusing herself when my younger siblings, Keith, who’s twelve and Annalise, who’s the youngest at nine, begin yelling at each other in another room.

  Once she’s gone, I continue to pretend I’m studying while I run through the events of last night. The fight, how seeing Zac made me feel, and then how he kissed me…My lips still burn from the heat of it. The way his mouth moved against mine while he held me against him possessively was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. And I’ve kissed enough of the wrong boys to know that that wasn’t a normal feeling.

  I sit and try to remember something about him from when he was at our school. I remember that he was there, but I truly don’t remember him the way Sisley and Lucas do. They remember the rumours and what he was like. But I just remember him. I remember watching him and wondering who he was because he was always so quiet. I don’t think I ever heard him speak before last night.

  Absentmindedly, I reach down and run my fingertips around the scratch on my ankle where he touched me. It was so strange feeling the way I did when he knelt down in front of me and inspected it. I experienced some weird sickness in my gut and my chest. I felt…drawn to him. There’s no other way to explain it.

  Then during the fight, how I kept catching his eye…what was that? Was he simply watching me because I was watching him? Does he always kiss a random girl in the crowd after he fights or did it mean something? Did he feel what I felt too?

  So many questions…I don’t know. It seems so silly when I think about it, and I’m slightly embarrassed by my behaviour. I mean, it’s not like I’m inexperienced around boys. I know how to talk to them and how to act. But I felt something, you know? Something profound, and it made me feel as though all of my previous experience was nothing. Everything felt like it was happening for the first time and I didn’t know what to do or say. That’s never happened to me before.

  “Not long now,” I hear, just as a large hand ruffles my head like I’m still five. I look up, pulled from my thoughts again by my father who’s just arrived home from work. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and black linen pants, which is pretty much his uniform. He rarely wears anything else.

  “’Til what?” I ask.

  His brow rises as he tilts his head. “Your final exams? The ones that will help you get into Uni? They’re only a couple of weeks away now, right?”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course,” I laugh.

  “Isn’t that what you’re studying for right now? That looks like a biology textbook right there.”

  “It is. I’m just tired and my head’s full of formulas and…you know…”

  “Yeah, don’t study too hard. You’ll fry your brain,” he says as he
drops his keys and wallet on the countertop in the kitchen. “Where’s your mum?”

  “She went to sort out an argument between Keith and Annalise a while ago. I’m not sure where she is now though,” I state, closing my textbook just as my mother appears in the doorway. I see my father’s face light up as though he’s been apart from her for way too long, even though I’m sure it’s only been a few hours.

  Smiling to myself as he swiftly moves toward her and envelopes her in an embrace, I rise from my seat and head to my room, wondering if it’s possible that the strange feeling I got around Zac could possibly be something like what they felt when they first met…

  ***

  “Earth to Yvonne. Come in, Yvonne,” Sisley practically yells as we stretch out on the grassy oval at school that Monday. We’re eating Kettle chips and we were people watching, but she got busy chatting away and snuggling up with Lucas when he came to join us, so I allowed my mind to wander to my current fascination.

  ”What?” I ask, looking over at them as they smile at me with this knowing glint in their eyes that makes me feel really uncomfortable.

  “She’s thinking about a certain fighter,” Sisley comments.

  “She looks like she’s got it bad,” Lucas notes, both of them talking like I can’t even hear them.

  ”What!?” I demand, my voice coming out an octane higher than normal. “Leave me alone. I’m fine.”

  I’m not fine. I have Zac Rivers on the brain. Not that I want to admit it openly in front of my friends, but I have it really bad. I can’t stop thinking about him. I even thought I saw him when I got to school this morning, talking to a girl with long alpine blonde hair. But it was only for a moment and then he was gone. It led me to believe I’d imagined it. Of course I imagined it. He doesn’t even go to this school anymore.

  “No you’re not. You’ve got this far away stare going on, and it’s been that way since Edward Cullen kissed you.”

  “Please stop calling him that.”

  “Should we just call him Steel Fist then?” Lucas guffaws.

  “How about we just call him Zac. It’s not hard to remember.”

  “Well, whatever we call him, he’s definitely on your mind,” Sisley points out. “And I’m not surprised. That kiss was pretty amazing. It was gross because of the blood and stuff. But it was hot at the same time.” She tilts her head and squints up at the sky. “I don’t know what that says about me.”