Knockout Girl

by Natasja Eby

  “What are you doing?” he asks as Lindsay puts their phones back-to-back.

  “You’ll see,” she answers mysteriously, her gaze glued to her phone. “In just…10 seconds…and 5…and here you go,” she says brightly, handing Jules his phone back.

  “What’d you do to it?” he asks sceptically.

  Lindsay laughs again. “Nothing. The girls and I made a playlist for you,” she tells him, gesturing to the table where most of the cheerleaders eat together. “For your workouts,” she clarifies. Then she does that shoulder-touching thing one more time before she gets up and leaves.

  Julian’s eyes follow her sashaying butt all the way back to her table where the cheerleaders smile and wave at him. His eyebrows draw inwards again, like he doesn’t trust them.

  “Let me see that,” I say to him. He’s still looking at the table full of girls, so I take his phone to look at it.

  The playlist is entitled Roar and features, unsurprisingly, Katy Perry’s “Roar” as the first song. I scan the rest of it. “Eye of the Tiger,” “Titanium,” “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger,” “The Rocky Theme Song.” These are some good songs, I have to admit. I thought they’d all be girly, but they’re not.

  “Cute,” I say, as I pass the phone back to Julian.

  “Is this your doing?” Julian asks pointedly as he peruses the playlist.

  “Me? No,” I say. Has he not noticed how differently people are acting towards him? I couldn’t have gotten a whole school to just spontaneously do that. “I had nothing to do with that. Or with the way those girls over there are eyeing your biceps.”

  Julian looks in the direction I’m pointing, and the group of girls I mentioned quickly looks away from him. He snorts. “What girls? I mean…what biceps?”

  “These ones, sillyhead.” I reach across the table and grab hold of his upper left arm encased in what used to be a fairly loose t-shirt.

  My first thought: whoa.

  Second thought: are my biceps getting bigger too? I immediately let go of his arm to feel my own. Nope, still pretty skinny.

  “Ella.”

  “Yeah?” I’m still trying to find my muscles.

  “What are you doing?”

  I look up at Julian and he’s smirking at me. I smirk back. “I wanted to know if my muscles have grown as much as yours.”

  “They do seem to be bigger than when I first met you,” he says like he really means it.

  “Aww, thanks,” I say.

  Julian smiles. “Is it time for math yet?”

  I frown at him. “There’s no taking the geek out of you, is there?”

  He just laughs and shakes his head.

  When he gets up and slings his backpack on, I can’t help looking at his arms one more time because seriously, whoa.

  ***

  Mom and Dad had another fight. When I get home from work, they’re both in the living room, Mom reading a book and Dad perusing a newspaper. They aren’t even talking to each other, but I can tell by the tension in the air that something’s up. I don’t know whether to ignore it or ask about it. I opt for ignoring it because asking is just awkward.

  “Hey, Kiddo,” Dad greets me.

  I give him a look. “Dad, I’m not a kid anymore. I mean, come on. I’m a boxer now!”

  I get into a half-decent stance and throw a couple of fake punches in his direction. Dad laughs and pretends to cower in fear of my might. It makes me smile.

  “You’re looking pretty good, Elli,” he says. “And what about that boyfriend of yours?”

  My heart skips a beat as my thoughts immediately jump to Adrian, who isn’t at all my boyfriend. But Dad hasn’t even met Adrian so how would he know that Adrian could almost possibly be boyfriend material? And then it dawns on me. He’s asking about Julian.

  “Daaaad,” I drawl with an eye-roll as I sit down next to him on the couch. “Julian is most definitely not my boyfriend. But since you asked, he’s actually doing very well. He might just have a shot at the tournament.”

  My mom scoffs. It’s her way of joining the conversation.

  “Hmm,” Dad says. “I wonder what Dan’s putting him through to get him ready on time. Not that my brother’s exactly in shape either.”

  I perk up a little. “You could watch us train sometime. I’m sure Jules wouldn’t mind. You should see, too, Mom.” I give her my most fetching smile in hopes that maybe she’ll pretend that she likes me at least a little.

  Mom opens her mouth and I know she’s about to decline my offer when Dad says, “Come on, Shauna. This is something Elli wants to do. We should support her.”

  Mom glares at Dad for a very tiny second before saying in a bright tone, “I was about to say that I would love to watch you train, Elli.”

  “Really?” I squeak out.

  “Sure, why not?” Mom answers airily likes it’s no big deal. But I know it is to her, because she doesn’t really want me to box.

  “Oh, Mom, I’m getting so good at it,” I tell her. And I really mean it. I want her to know that I like it and that’s why I’m sticking with it.

  Mom just smiles.

  “So,” I say lightly. “What were you fighting about this time?”

  “Nothing,” they both say at the same time.

  I decide not to push it. It’s not my place anyway. “Okay, well, I’m tired. I’m just going to go do my homework and then go to bed.”

  I kiss them both goodnight and they look at me strangely. Now that I think about it, I guess I haven’t actually kissed them goodnight in a long time.

  I take my backpack upstairs, close my bedroom door, and then pull Adrian’s hat onto my head. Like I do pretty much every night. I know, it’s a little creepy. And totally unnecessary now that the snow has stopped falling. But at the same time…I can’t help it. I like the way it feels.

  And I like the way it feels to know someone who is totally cute and awesome likes me enough to give me his hat and not ask for it back. And I like the way it doesn’t make me think of Kai.

  CHAPTER sixteen

  Dan has been pushing us hard lately, which hasn’t left me much time to work on getting Jules and Cherry together. I know, I know—priorities. I realize the tourney is in a month, but it’s not like I’m the one who has to fight Red. Really, my time could be better spent doing something else. Instead I’m here—

  “Pick up your feet, Elli!” Dan barks at me.

  I sigh and jump higher over my jump rope. Julian gives me a sympathetic look, presumably because he knows Dan is much harder on me than on him. Or at least it feels like that.

  “Pick up that attitude, too, Elli,” Dan adds in a slightly softer voice.

  I give him the cheesiest smile I can muster and skip lightly, adding a little flare in my shoulders for good measure. Dan laughs, which makes me smile for real.

  After we’ve sufficiently warmed up, I get a little break while Dan works with Julian. Dan’s trying to teach him as many moves as he can in such a short time; we’ve moved beyond jabs, crosses, and uppercuts. Lately we’ve been working on more complicated things like lay backs, parries, and the bob and weave.

  My favourite technique is called “the slip” and surprisingly, I seem to have gotten a better hang of it than Julian. The slip involves getting to know your opponent so that you can predict where and when their next punch will be. Then you can dodge it by the slightest bit before striking hard. Like I said, I’ve gotten pretty good at it. Julian on the other hand…

  “You’re dodging too late,” I tell him gently, trying to be helpful. He gives me a wary look.

  “It’s hot in here,” he mutters in annoyance, like that’s his problem right now. He slips his shirt off which is very uncharacteristic of him since he’s more modest than an Amish school girl.

  Then my jaw drops. Because where I expected to find flab and rolls there are now pecs and a six pack. His abs aren’t exactly washboard material, but they are pretty tight. I’m impressed and a little jealous and also a little embarrassed wh
en Julian realizes I’m staring.

  “What?” he snaps, still annoyed.

  “Nothing,” I respond, immediately dropping my eyes to my history textbook which I’m only pretending to read.

  There’s a knock on the door to the basement and I look up. My dad walks in and his eyes narrow in on Julian. My mom follows him in and gives Dan a scowl in greeting, then glares at Julian’s bare chest.

  “What’s this?” Dan asks with a disapproving frown.

  “Elli invited us,” Mom says smugly, taking a seat on the one old couch we have down here.

  Dan looks at me sharply, to which I reply, “I thought they’d like to see me in action, you know?”

  “To watch you jump rope and throw punches at a dummy,” Dan says with one eyebrow raised.

  “No,” I half-mumble. I look up at Julian. “Come on, Jules, let’s spar. Just a little.”

  His eyebrows draw in the slightest bit and he looks at Dan for confirmation, which kind of annoys me, to be honest. I mean, Jules is my friend after all. Dan sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly. But then he helps me into my gloves before taking a seat on the arm of the couch next to my dad.

  “Just take it easy on her,” Dan warns Julian as we take our stances across from each other.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I mutter under my breath, giving my friend a cocky smirk. I knock his gloved hands—a gesture I learned from the girls a while ago. It’s some sort of a greeting, I guess.

  Julian smiles back at me and we begin. It’s kind of weird that we’ve never actually sparred together no matter how much we’ve trained together. And no matter how much time I’ve spent with him at school, no matter how well I think I know him, I’m about to discover another side of Julian.

  A very different side. This side is all skilled determination. If I didn’t know better, I would never have guessed that Julian is a soft-spoken bookworm. He moves quickly, his jabs are light and effective and his footwork is almost perfect. Again, I’m struck with mixed feelings of admiration and jealousy. I’m also a little annoyed because I know he’s not giving me all he’s got.

  But it’s okay, because I know his weakness. The slip. I let him keep throwing a few weak punches at me, blocking them as best I can. And then I see my opportunity—he’s getting bored, so I goad him a little until he charges up for what I know is his best move.

  I dodge it easily and now that I’m out of his way, he’s in mine and I take a swing right at his head. Julian is so surprised by the force of my hit that he drops his arms and stares at me. He realizes his mistake a second too late because I’m not finished fighting yet, and so I give him a swift uppercut that nearly knocks him off balance.

  I probably should have warned him first, but Julian should have known better. Plus it feels kind of good to hear my parents cheering for me, Dan praising me and scolding Julian, and Julian staring at me with a look of annoyed wonderment.

  “Alright, you got me fair and square, Ella,” Jules says with laughter in his voice. “But don’t expect it to happen again.”

  “Then don’t drop your arms again,” I tell him, keeping my hands next to my face.

  So Julian puts his fists back up and we start again. He’s better than me by far, and he’s definitely holding back still, but I’m not too bad. I’m just glad for him. I really am. Because if he’d been terrible at boxing then I would have felt even worse about the mess I got him into. But now—now I think he might be able to beat Red.

  We didn’t really call a winner (although it’s totally him) before Julian stops and says he really should get home to do some homework. I should feel bad about his grades because I know he hasn’t had as much time to devote to school and he’s probably never gotten less than an A+ or something. But really, all I feel is pride. I’m proud that the same focus and determination he has for academics can be applied to athletics too.

  After Julian leaves and Dan skitters off to wherever he goes in the evenings, I sit with Mom and Dad in the living room. We are, of course, doing our own things—Dad’s reading the newspaper, Mom’s working on some take-home stuff, and I’m doing homework. But for the first time in a long time, there is a little peace that settles in. It’s nice.

  “Your form is good, Elli,” Dad says without taking his eyes off his newspaper.

  I glance up at him. I know he’s trying to compliment me without embarrassing me so I say, “Thanks,” and really mean it.

  “I’m surprised Dan even remembers boxing,” Mom comments, all the while filling in little notes on her pages with red pencil. “Did he ever box after…?”

  Dad shakes his head and answers, “Nope,” before Mom finishes her question, leaving me to wonder what happened before after.

  They both fall silent, so after a moment, I ask, “Wait, what happened? Did he get hurt or something?”

  Dad hesitates before saying, “I shouldn’t say…”

  But Mom obviously doesn’t care because she blurts out, “Your uncle choked up during a huge tournament and lost to a really lousy competitor.”

  Whoa.

  “Shauna,” Dad says wearily.

  “What?” she retorts. “Don’t you think Elli deserves to know why her coach hasn’t boxed in over fifteen years? Even I knew that Dan was an amazing boxer. He should have been able to beat all the competition and he didn’t.”

  “Why not?” I ask. “Was it nerves or something? He doesn’t strike me as the nervous type.”

  Mom shakes her head. “He’s not. His girlfriend broke up with him the day before and he came to the tournament drunk. He never boxed after that, but he did keep drinking.”

  Dad sighs and puts his newspaper down. “That’s not exactly how it went. For one thing, Chantal didn’t break up with him—she cheated on him. And for another, the day of the tournament was the anniversary—” he cuts himself off just before his voice rises to the level of yelling and takes a deep breath. “The anniversary of Tim’s death. That was his best friend growing up,” he adds for my sake.

  Double whoa.

  “That’s so sad!” I say, and I really mean it.

  “Don’t say anything to him about it, though,” Dad says.

  “And especially don’t mention Chantal,” Mom adds. “He can do so much better.”

  Mom’s defending him now? Weird. “No, of course not. Out of curiosity though, what day was that?”

  “May…” Dad looks at Mom, who rolls her eyes.

  “Twenty-first,” she finishes for him.

  “May twenty-first?” I ask queasily. No, no, no. “You don’t think he still has any hang-ups about that date, do you?”

  I hear “No,” and “Probably,” at the same time.

  “Why do you ask?” Mom asks.

  “Oh, it’s just…that’s the day of our tournament.” I don’t mean for it to come out sounding selfish. I just don’t want it to be another bad experience for Uncle Dan.

  “I’m sure it’s fine, Elli,” Dad says with a small smile. “Don’t think about it. Just do your best and you’ll do him proud.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  ***

  The next night I find myself ice skating with Adrian again after hockey practice is over. I didn’t even see Cherry, but I know she had something to do with our private ice time. It’s kind of nice of her actually. I’m sure Adrian appreciates the extra practice time, too.

  Adrian’s being super nice again. When I fall flat on my butt, he doesn’t even laugh. He just helps me up and gives me one of his ridiculously dimply grins which almost makes me fall over again. It makes me wonder why he hasn’t asked me out since our almost-kiss. I mean, don’t almost-kisses mean anything these days?

  “I heard some rumours about Neener,” Adrian says after we’ve been skating silently for a few minutes.

  I discovered that “Neener” is a name a lot of kids at school call Julian, and is usually paired with “Keener.” I think some of them even mean it endearingly now, but I don’t think it’s a nice name and I don’t lik
e that Adrian’s using it.

  “What kind of rumours?” I ask. “And don’t call him that.”

  Adrian lifts an eyebrow at me and frowns a little and I swear his frown is almost as beautiful as his smile. “Just, you know, you guys…”

  “Us guys…?”

  “Training together and stuff…”

  “Training together,” I say flatly. “That’s not a rumour, that’s a fact.”

  “Yeah, but like…” he hesitates and I already know I don’t like what’s coming. “There’s nothing more going on?”

  I stop skating just to sigh because I cannot even comprehend that he’s asking me that after everything. After our private little skate sessions, after he gave me his hat that I haven’t given back, after our almost-kiss. Why is he asking me that?

  “How many times are you going to ask me that question before you believe my answer?” I ask him, trying not to sound as hurt as I feel. I mean, it’s not like we’re a couple or anything, but I know he likes me and he should know I like him by now, right?

  “I know. I’m sorry,” he says hastily. “It’s just—you spend so much time with him.”

  “I spend a lot of time reading textbooks too, but you’re not suspicious of them,” I tell him, trying for levity.

  “You don’t eat lunch with your textbooks,” he says. Is he actually sulking? “Your textbooks don’t make you laugh.”

  “He’s not allowed to make me laugh?” I ask incredulously. “For a guy who’s not even my boyfriend, you’re being oddly possessive.”

  “I’m not—” Adrian cuts himself off and exhales loudly. “I just think you should tell me right now if I should even bother asking to be your boyfriend or not.”

  “That’s what you were leading up to?” I practically shout into the empty rink.

  “Couldn’t you tell?” he asks, giving me that adorable frown again that I want to smack right off his face.

  I shake my head. “You want to know why I spend so much time with Julian, why I always eat lunch with him? Because when I first started going to your school, he was the one that made friends with me. He made me laugh when I hated my life. And he stood up to Red with me and for me. If you can’t accept that…then no, I don’t think you should ask. I’m sorry.”