The Boxer and the Butterfly

by Sasha Hibbs

  “Tell me what?”

  “He has some,” Sean paused and looked like he was trying to select his words carefully, “issues with Mr. Romano.”

  “Yeah, Sean. I gathered that much. But who doesn’t occasionally dislike a teacher?”

  For Mickey to have advanced this far with his studies—taking college prerequisites—he had to get along to some degree with all of our previous English teachers. Mr. Romano came in mid-first term. Our former English teacher took an early retirement after having a heart attack at the beginning of the school year.

  “True, true,” Sean said. “But Mr. Romano and Mickey have history and it’s not pretty from what Daniel told me.”

  Daniel, being the older brother, more than likely had the entire story whereas Sean probably had a filtered version of it.

  “What kind of history?”

  “Mr. Romano is Mickey’s uncle.”

  Stunned, one thing came to mind—that meant Principal Oliverio was too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Still reeling from the bombshell Sean dropped on me, I barely noticed when he said good-bye. I couldn’t believe it—Mr. Romano and Mickey were related. But still, why did Mickey dislike him so much? Enough to deliberately flunk his class and ruin his chances to gain entrance into more exclusive colleges? I turned to leave when Mickey caught up to me.

  “You came.”

  “I told you I would. You said a deal was a deal, so I thought I’d try to hold up my end of the bargain. Remember, this means you still have to come to class.”

  “I’ll be there,” he said, a trace of humor in his gaze.

  “Hey, Mickey,” Mr. Bouncer guy said, making his way through the dissipating crowd. “You ready for your payout?”

  “Hey, Cam. Rich downstairs?”

  I was finally able to ascertain Mr. Bouncer guy had a name—Cam. But who was Rich? This felt like my cue to leave. Resuming my exit strategy, I turned, only to be stopped by Mickey gently grabbing me by the elbow. His gloves were off, but he still had red wraps around his knuckles, and I could feel his callouses hard against my soft skin. I glanced down to where our skin touched and then flicked my gaze up to his.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Um, home,” I said.

  “Let me walk you out to your car. Do you have five minutes?” There was something genuine about his question, the sincerity in his eyes. I kept telling myself there was nothing between us, but I could see a spark—could feel it—and I secretly hoped Mickey could feel it too.

  I glanced down at my watch, and continuing to skate on the edge of disaster, I answered, “Actually, I have ten.”

  I was rewarded with a lopsided grin. “Come on. This won’t take long, and then I’ll walk you out.”

  “This way,” Cam said. Mickey followed behind him and I trailed close behind Mickey. Cam took us down two flights of stairs that ended with a small office facing the exit.

  “Wait out here for a sec and I’ll be right out.”

  “Nice seeing you again, Mickey’s girl,” Cam said, jutting his chin out at me.

  “Yeah, nice meeting you too,” I said as I felt the heat rise in my cheeks at Cam’s reference. I kept my gaze away from Mickey, but I knew he heard Cam the same as I did, and wondered why he continued with the ruse I started.

  Mickey followed Cam into the office and shut the door behind him. I could hear voices. I recognized Mickey’s and Cam’s, but the third was unfamiliar. It had to belong to Rich. Was he the one running these fights? Did he own this building? How did Mickey know him? I wasn’t close enough to Mickey to know or understand why he fought. I did know that it involved bets, money, and that Mickey was underage, which would make all of this illegal. It gnawed at me. I overheard who I presumed to be Rich talking to Mickey.

  “Leo’s a college kid—senior, I think. He’s pretty tough, Mickey, but if you’re willing to fight him and win, it’ll bring you in the most cash you’ve made so far.”

  I recognized the name as soon as I heard it. I remembered the two creepy college guys from my first night with their threats of Mickey getting pummeled by Leo. I instantly felt a sick knot form in my stomach. Would he do it? And if so—when? I tried to suppress these questions as Mickey walked out of the office. Cam followed behind him. Closing Rich’s office door, Cam waved bye as he turned left and trailed back up the steps. It was just me and Mickey.

  “Come on. Let’s go,” Mickey said.

  He walked in front of me. I turned and went to take a step. My gaze was on the floor. I froze as I felt Mickey take my hand in his. We walked in silence, hand in hand as he led me up two flights of stairs and outside. Once we made it to the parking lot, silence still remained. It felt like an eternity that we stood there and stared at each other.

  I had a million questions running through my head. Why did he fight for money? What was the history between him and his uncles? I knew it was bad history, I just didn’t know the story. And as our hands remained clasped, the biggest question was what were we together? I finally broke the silence.

  “Mickey.” I let a sigh escape between my teeth. “What are we?”

  He smiled. “You’re a girl and I’m definitely a guy,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down. I couldn’t resist smiling at his playfulness.

  “I’m serious. What are we doing?” I asked, glancing down at our entwined hands then flicking my gaze back to his.

  “I already answered you. I’m a guy, and you’re a girl, I guess there’s only one thing we need clarification on.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Are you my girl?” he asked and then squeezed my hand as if to imply he hoped I would answer favorably.

  My heart fluttered. I instantly became self-conscious. An image of that blonde on the back of his motorcycle surfaced its ugly head in my mind. My thoughts flickered to all the girls I witnessed at the last two fights who seemed to swoon and throw themselves at him. And then I thought about what I looked like. Me with my mousy brown hair. My boobs, which to me, seemed too small. Was I pretty? Did he think I was? I wasn’t pretty like all those other girls.

  “You like me?” I squeaked out.

  He stared at me, his penetrating gaze reminding me of how gorgeous I and every other girl thought he was. While he had beautiful blue eyes, a body that he carried with a sultry swagger, he also, I discovered over the last few weeks, had an equally beautiful mind. But I felt inadequate in comparison. As if hearing my thoughts, my insecurities, he moved to take them out of my mind. He used his free hand to cup the side of my face, and this time his kiss wasn’t swift. It was slow, soft, and gentle. He slowly drew back, leaning his forehead against mine.

  “So?” he said.

  “So?” I murmured, still lost in his kisses.

  “Are you my girl?”

  I felt the corners of my lips tug up into a smile. Over the last few weeks I’d spun my own web, but so had Mickey. He set things into motion the same as I had. But I was the one caught in his trap. I reached up on my tiptoes and before giving him a kiss, I whispered against his lips, “Yes, Mickey. I’m your girl.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Before parting ways after Friday’s fight, I told Mickey he’d have to let me lay low for the rest of the weekend. It had been a struggle for me to come up with excuses these last few weeks to slip out of the house to meet him, and I needed to spend Saturday and Sunday with my mom and dad to ease any suspicion they might have. I told him not to worry, that my life prior to him had been rather boring. Every weekend we went to church and then afterwards we would go to the Country Club for lunch. Before we parted ways Friday night, he did the strangest thing. Through narrowed eyes, I watched him place his helmet on me. After asking him what in the world he was doing, he simply replied by saying he was trying to guesstimate my size. We kissed one last time and I hurried home.

  Saturday came and went. It felt kind of blurry to me. My parents would occasionally ask me something in passing and I would try my best to get my
thoughts off Mickey long enough to answer them or feign interest in their conversation. But all I could think of was Mickey.

  As Sunday came, sitting in our usual church pew, my thoughts still lingered on Mickey. I couldn’t wait until Monday when we could see each other again. What was I going to do? Over the weekend I thought about telling my parents about him, but as I imagined every way under the sun in which to present Mickey to them, every scenario ended up bad. When church let out, we filed into Dad’s Mercedes and drove to the Country Club.

  “You seem a bit distracted, Autumn.”

  “Hmm?” I turned my gaze to my mom. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Sure. Sorry, I was just thinking about Honors English and what we’re working on next week.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie. My mom eyed me suspiciously before leveling her gaze out.

  We pulled into the Country Club when my happy, giddy thoughts of Mickey were all too soon replaced by thoughts of potentially running into Jay. Ugh. I really, really, really hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with him, but unless one of the Asters came down with the flu, chances they’d be here were better than not.

  I shuffled in after my parents and took my usual seat. After eating some pureed carrot soup, I excused myself from the table, thankful the Asters hadn’t made their grand entrance before I had the chance to escape. I didn’t feel like swimming today. The end of January was usually brutally cold, but today there was a nice sunny reprieve from the typical frigid weather, so I decided to walk around the tennis court. At least outside I wasn’t under the questioning gaze of my parents.

  Just beyond the tennis courts was a trail that wrapped around a pond. In the summer it was beautiful and lined with enough roses to make even my mother jealous. Today, the roses were long gone and the frozen pond was thawing under the penetrating sun.

  As I decided to walk the trail, I heard the faint squeal of a motorcycle. I set off toward the trail, but as the noise became louder, I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. I was about to turn back when I recognized the sleek black motorcycle coming into view and the rider on top of it. My jaw dropped.

  Mickey.

  I looked around to see if anyone else was outside. My heart hammered in my chest. Did he actually come here to see me? Oh, God! My parents were inside. It wasn’t likely they would come out, but they could.

  He pulled in the employee parking lot and parked his bike. Quickly looking over my shoulder one last time, I hurried over to him. Dismounting from his bike, he eased out of his helmet.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “My mom forgot her purse,” he said.

  My heart dropped. Of course he wasn’t coming here to see me. His mother did work here after all. I felt stupid.

  “Oh,” I whispered. I lowered my gaze, hoping Mickey couldn’t sense the embarrassment I felt.

  He took my hands in his. I glanced up at him. His lips were curved into a mischievous smile.

  “She didn’t exactly forget her purse. I may have hidden it this morning, knowing once she was at work she would realize she didn’t have it, and would probably call me to bring it to her and that would give me the excuse I needed to come here in the hopes I’d run into my girl.”

  In that moment I swear I felt those butterflies everyone always talked about flutter through my stomach. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

  “You’re bad,” I teased.

  “Baby, no one ever accused me of being good.”

  “You really came out here to see me?” I still couldn’t believe Mickey and I had this thing going on. It was dangerous. It was sneaky. I could get caught and I cringed thinking of the trouble I would get into. But I was drawn to Mickey in ways I couldn’t begin to describe because I had never felt them before.

  “I’ll take my mom’s purse in when we get back,” Mickey said, turning back toward his motorcycle.

  “What?”

  He pulled out another helmet and held it out to me.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s a helmet.”

  “Yes, I can see that. But why are you giving it to me?”

  “I’ve heard if you wreck without one, it usually doesn’t go so well, and I want that beautiful head of yours protected,” Mickey said.

  Just when I was about to tell him hell no, he had to go and say something like that, rendering me completely at his mercy.

  “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before,” I said, taking the helmet from him.

  “I’m glad I’m your first,” he said, standing mere inches from me. I felt my cheeks growing hot at his insinuation. He smiled, and as I eased the helmet down over my head, he carefully buckled the straps in place. It occurred to me then that was why Mickey was trying to size my head on Friday. He’d planned this which made my heart swell even more. I was falling for this boy. Hard.

  “I can’t stay out too long. My parents will worry.” I watered down what would really happen. I didn’t have it in me to ruin this perfect moment with Mickey. He’d actually planned this out, arranged a way to see me over the weekend and it gave me the warmest sensation, warm enough that it drowned out any feelings of being outside in the cold.

  But the reality was if my parents caught me riding a motorcycle with Mickey, I would no doubt be grounded for the rest of my natural life. They wouldn’t understand him. No. Not that. They would understand all right. They would instantly identify that he didn’t come from money, that he wasn’t spoiled Jay Aster. That he wasn’t good enough for me. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. In this moment, I wanted to wrap my arms around Mickey and drive off without a care in the world.

  “I’ll have you back in ten minutes. I promise.” Mickey straddled the bike and held his hand out to me.

  I took his hand in mine and tried as gracefully as someone who has never ridden a motorcycle before, to swing my leg over and situate myself. After I felt secure on the seat, Mickey took my hand and rested it across his stomach.

  “My girl better hold on tight,” he said as he roared the motorcycle to life.

  I rested my chin on his back and wrapped my other arm around his waist. As we pulled out of the employee parking lot, my heart dropped when I caught sight of Jay Aster standing in the tennis court watching us drive away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As promised, Mickey had me back at the Country Club ten minutes later. I didn’t say anything to him about Jay, us being caught, because I hadn’t exactly told Mickey he was something I was trying to hide. In addition to lying, keeping secrets was something I was becoming all too familiar with lately.

  We parked and after sliding off the motorcycle, Mickey grabbed his mother’s purse. I handed him back his helmet and looked around nervously, praying no one else was outside to witness us together. There wasn’t a single soul outside, including Jay. But I knew he saw us. My only hope was that he wouldn’t tell his parents or mine.

  “Did you like the ride?”

  “I can honestly say that I did.”

  He smiled at me as we walked toward the Country Club.

  “So what’s on the menu for Honors English this week?”

  “Now we’re covering Emerson and Thoreau.”

  “Ah, Transcendentalism. I do love some Emerson and Thoreau. That’s a little more my speed.” Mickey said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

  “What are your favorite works by them?” I asked, genuinely curious about the guy who could pummel a boy in the ring twice his size and quote Bronte passages. He was a walking contradiction.

  “Civil Disobedience by Thoreau is at the top of my list, and of course, Walden. For Emerson I would have to say The Conduct of Life.” He gave me an arch smile and continued. “Much like women of British literature, I admire Thoreau and Emerson for writing and lecturing on their ideals in a time when such thoughts conjured controversy. Their passion for the written word gave voices to those oppressed in that time. I respect standing up for what you believ
e in the face of adversity.”

  I was captivated by him. There was something gentle and poetic in Mickey masked by a rough exterior. It was that outward shell that made me crave the sweetness I believed to be on the inside.

  “Mickey, you’re smart. You don’t need a tutor. More like you need an attendance officer,” I said, arching an accusatory brow at him. I felt it was too soon to bring up the fact I learned Principal Oliverio and Mr. Romano were his uncles.

  “You can always arrest me,” he said.

  “Seriously, Mickey. You being in Honors English alone told me you had some degree of aptitude a cut above the rest. But being with you these last few weeks has made me realize just how intelligent you really are. Why did you quit coming to class? Doing the work?”

  I already knew the answer, at least to some degree, but didn’t know enough about what history had transpired between them to make Mickey hate his uncles so much.

  “Two reasons,” Mickey said. I could hear a trace of humor in his voice.

  “And those would be?”

  “First, I like to piss people off. Secondly and probably the most important, if I didn’t break the rules, they wouldn’t have sent such a pretty officer to police me.”

  I gave him a bored stare and tried to hide my smile. He wasn’t going to confide in me yet, and I wasn’t going to push him. Regardless of how we came to be together, I knew Mickey didn’t need me and there was something special about that. It meant he wanted me. And I liked the way that made me feel.

  We descended the last few steps leading to the main entrance. Mickey opened the door for me. I walked in and scanned the corridor for anyone I might know. Other than the receptionist and a few stray employees, there was no one here in danger of telling my parents. I was safe for now. Dealing with Jay would come later.

  “Give me your phone,” Mickey said.

  “What for?”

  “So I can program my number in.”

  I reached into my jeans pocket and dug my iPhone out and handed it to him. His fingers moved over the touch screen in seconds then he handed it back to me.