by Love Belvin
I halfway cared in the moment. I was minutes away from another fight at BSU, and just like the first time I fought as a student, it brought to mind how everyone back in Jersey—north and south—had been going on with their lives without a thought of me, my feelings or wellbeing. Well, everyone except for Raj, who was sure to call to make sure I got back to school safely. My cousins back home never called because like me, they couldn’t afford the long-distance fees. I hadn’t called them yet because it seemed like as soon as I got the phone, Ashton left for home, and I stupidly ran after him. And when I got back on campus, I had school work and training to get back to. But my mother and Uppercut, they couldn’t give a damn.
That’s cold…
The door opened and Collin stepped in with speed and wide eyes. When he looked at me as I faced him, I could see the excitement drain as he schooled his expression. Then he leaped over to Luke in just two steps, it seemed, and whispered something to him. Luke’s head shot up and eyes grew just as wide as Collin’s when he came into the room. Luke lifted his hat, his mouth hanging open as he wiggled it on his balding head.
“Done,” Trisha announced then began collecting her equipment.
The guy from Walden inspected my hands, raising them in the air, one by one. Then they moved over to my gloves. I turned toward the mirror, locking eyes with myself, not realizing I’d be seeing her so soon. The Banger. She was staring back at me, promising to make me feel better. She scared me sometimes, because of how discreet yet forceful her return had always been.
Sounds of soft rustling tagged my attention. Collin was across the room, whispering to Trisha this time. She looked at me over her shoulder, appearing stuck similar to Luke. Then her attention went to Collin.
Weird professional college humans…
“Tori!” Luke was holding the door open as some light skinned dude leaned inside the doorway. I turned to fully face him. The loudest thing about his presence was a curly fade. “You have a song yet?”
My forehead stretched and face tightened at the guy. “You the deejay?” I was shocked.
A cheap smirk opened on his face then he slid his full, long body inside. “My bad, Tori.” He walked over to me. “I swear to god, on my unborn kids, I didn’t mean to hit you with that milkshake. I was just fuckin’ around and got caught up.”
It was the kid who had me fucked up in the cafeteria then got me fired when I was ready to beat his ass. He squatted down next to my chair apologetically. He was still almost my height as I sat. I stood, shooting him bullets while debating if I should punch him in the face. I was sure I could bruise his pretty, pale face with just one jab.
“Tori,” I recognized the warning in Trisha’s voice. Then I could feel her nearer.
“What’s your name?”
“Paul.” He swallowed, big eyes looking up to me. “DJ Paulie.”
I flashed my teeth, still considering if I should lay him out. It wouldn’t be hard to do, and especially from this vantage point.
“Is there going to be a problem?” The blond, tan from Walden University butted in, stepping close to me.
Trisha moved in behind him where she faced me, her expression was hard on Walden.
“Is your name Paul, too?” I asked him.
“Excuse me?” Walden University demanded.
“Unless your name is Paulie, then there is no problem.” I turned back to Paulie. “I hate Pauls, Paulie. Like real, real bad. You’re running up reasons for me to beat your corny, light skinned ass. Stay the fuck away from me.”
“Alright now, McNabb.” That time, Luke cautioned.
The kid, Paulie, stood to his feet, now towering me. He wasn’t flexing, though. He pouted. Maybe he was scared or his light skinned, curly head-ass feelings were—I didn’t know. But he didn’t want none of me, and that was for sure.
“Tell him what song and let that be the end of it, Tori,” Collin softly murmured.
I wouldn’t rip my eyes from this Paulie human. He was a pussy and I could smell it. Most bullies were. Without a crowd of immature, and in this case, bratty ass BSU instigators, they didn’t bark, much less bite.
“DMX. ‘Ruff Ryders’ Anthem’,” the words pushed through my gritted my teeth.
The sparkle from Trisha’s proud smile in my peripheral—the one that narrowed her eyes—was the small piece of support I needed to go out and kick ass. Paulie moped out of the room and nosey-don’t-know-how-to-mind-his-business-blond-tanned-human followed him.
We were ready. The Banger and me.
“Who’s the ref tonight?” the woman from the admin office asked as we walked the halls.
“Miller Blue,” Collin answered.
“It’s a shame how much of a shortage of Black, qualifying referees there is,” Trisha shared.
We made it to the closed doors of the main boxing gym. This would be my first fight here. Luke, his team of trainers, Trisha, Collin, and two administrators from the Panthers stood with me as we waited for Kerry Hill’s rock theme music to stop so I could be announced. I got nervous before each fight. The nerves didn’t stop tweaking until I stepped in the ring. It was survival mode in there. In my mind was a brewing storm. Even with this team behind me, I felt alone.
An eruption of boos spilled between the cracks of the door. My face fell.
“What the hell?” the man from Panthers administration croaked.
There were a few short whispers behind me, but I refused to turn around. It was rude, and overwhelming when I was still trying to figure out what could this sound of amped up humans on the other side be. But when I heard the announcer begin my call with my record then my name, the loud shout that came after it blew my mind.
DMX could be heard asking, “Where my dogs at?” and then barking before the track began.
“Oh, shit!” someone cried behind me. I didn’t need to see them to know they were dancing. “This was my joint!”
“Oh my, god! Right?” Collin agreed.
I rolled my eyes to the doors. DMX was an old-school artist and these old heads were showing their age. The doors opened and after a few steps inside, I saw dozens of faces in the seats that were usually empty at my fights. The place wasn’t packed, but a wall and a half was covered with bodies from the floor to near the ceiling in the bleachers. The closer we walked to the ring, the clearer faces became.
Samantha and her science crew were in the third row jumping up and down. She held a huge yellow sign in her hands above her head that read, “Kick ass, TM!” There were rows of people above and beneath them rocking out to the music.
“Tori, Tori, Tori!” the chirpy shouting had me looking farther down that row to find ShawnNicole. She, too, was amped up, pumping her fist in the air, big head of curls swinging all over.
From her location, Andrea and Karmen could be located. Andrea clapped with a partial smile while Karmen watched me motionless on her feet. I sensed her before my eyes carried over to Aivery. Her one arm folded over her little waist while the other fingered the pearls on her costume necklace. She scowled my way with her nude colored lips slightly lifted. And of course, she had to be kissed to Ashton’s lengthy frame. I swear, they were “on sight” perfect. Her sandy-bronzed skin next to his mocha always appealed to me. Wrong, but true. I never made trouble with my brown skin, but I could see beauty in hers when it came to Ashton.
Yup, I’m a weird human…
When my eyes finally braved him, Ashton saluted me with his hand to his forehead and a hint of a bow. When he winked at me, I whipped my head away.
He’d done this. Ashton, being the cool kid on campus, got his cool gang of friends and crew of bratty humans to come to my fight. Unbelievable. I didn’t know if I should be angry or annoyingly grateful. I’d just made it to the steps of the ring. Once I crossed the ropes, I heard none of the spectators.
The Banger saw her threat.
Kerry Hill.
The asshole…
That was my first thought when DJ Paulie dropped DMX’s interlude. When I
heard “Where my dogs at?” it took crazy discipline to not bust out laughing. An asshole. Tori had some of it in her, I knew it. What I didn’t know was all that made up the strange bird.
Or why her strange ass has me so fucking fascinated…
When “Ruff Ryder’s Anthem” kicked off, the small crowd gathered went mad. Al rapped the lyrics, line for line, above me. Dre had to be the loudest. It took the least amount of convincing to get him here tonight. The girls were dancing, singing what little they knew of the lyrics—everyone except for Aivery. She didn’t want to be here, and recommended we go bowling. But the majority of the group voted on coming to see what Tori had been invited to BSU to do. I knew she had work and was happy as shit they were about to see, too.
When I put out the call for everyone to show tonight, I didn’t consider Reggie Laws and other guys from men’s boxing to show. Had my call to action been that powerful? Was Tori right in her assumption of me being the cool kid on campus? Whatever the hell it was, Tori’s ass had better make this fight entertaining or there was no way I’d be able to pull this off again.
The referee called them to the center of the ring for the rules. I recognized the nasty scowl Tori shot the girl. Just when I thought this boxing shit was staged, I learned that Tori may very well be ready to knock me or anyone else who annoyed her the fuck out because we received the same glare.
The girl, Kerry Hill, punched Tori’s gloves harder than necessary when it was supposed to be a gesture of agreement. The crowd noticed and reacted, too, with boos. One thing Tori had going for her tonight was she was at an all-Black university where white superiority was frowned upon. So, if boo-ing and heckling could break Hill’s spirit, we’d assist with that.
When the bell rang and they charged each other, knots formed in my stomach as though I had money riding on this. I sat down then found myself standing almost right away.
“Are you fucking serious?” Aivery’s country twang made ‘serious’ sound like ‘series,’ she was that irritated.
Andrea laughed, flipping her braids over her shoulder. “Girl, this is a guy thing. You know…” She punched the air to explain. “We’ll never understand. We’re women.” She waved off the notion.
When they hi-fived each other with clattering laughter, I wanted to remind her Tori wasn’t a guy, but wasn’t interested in taking on that conversation. I ignored them and was rewarded when Tori blocked a punch. This girl, Kerry Hill, was taller and her arms seemed longer than Tori’s. Hill swung on Tori twice and missed, and I found my fists clenching. Then Hill swung again, and this time, landed on Tori’s shoulder. That’s when it was clear to me there was power behind her punches.
“Fuck her up, Panther!” Dre shouted so loud, he captured my attention as well as Aivery, Karmen, and Andrea’s.
We all glanced down the opposite end of the row, startled by his abrupt volume. He stood, clapping. That surprised me. Dre and Al had been laying off of Tori, but I didn’t know they accepted her as our own. I had no idea why I gave a fuck, but I approved.
Aivery rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “I wished her nerdy, ugly ass would just fuck him so he could move on.”
Andrea gasped. “Who?”
“Dre and that science bitch who dorms with the dog.” She used her forehead to gesture to the ring.
“He wants that white bitch?” Karmen shrilled, slapping the Gucci bag in her lap.
“You can’t tell?” Aivery’s hair swung in the air when she turned her way. “It’s been almost as disgusting as Ashton pitying the dog this semester so she could get some friends.” She scoffed. “You know none of these people would be here if it weren’t for Ashton.”
Andrea didn’t look very comfortable all of a sudden as she fingered the end of one of her braids, but Karmen snickered, something I knew was disingenuous and her default response to whatever her mean-girl ringleader said or did. I somehow caught eyes with ShawnNicole, whose face was tight on her friend, Aivery, even behind her oversized glasses before rolling her eyes back to the ring. I did the same and saw Tori had still been maintaining her focused posture, alertness and vigilance.
Hill had been taking lots of heavy swings, but Tori only ate a few. Tori, on the other hand, attempted less punches, but was more accurate with her landings. She was composed and kept her head low. Out of nowhere, Tori landed a left hook Hill didn’t see coming. Shit. Neither did I. It sent Hill’s head back past her shoulders then her torso followed, but she didn’t fall. Someone from Tori’s corner yelped harshly. I knew it was Luke Brown, her head trainer. It sounded as though he was scolding her. Hill threw another punch, a weaker one, likely still dazed by Tori’s blow, then the bell tolled.
After the end of the first round, I made myself sit. But I watched Luke leap into the ring and be in Tori’s face the minute her ass hit the stool that was placed there for her by his assistant. I couldn’t hear what he was telling her, but could easily decipher it wasn’t praise. He pointed in her face as he based at her, but not in a violent manner. Tori sat calm through it all, controlling her breathing and accepting the water Trisha Gaskin fed her. She nodded to Luke while white boy Collin patted her face with a towel.
The possibility of Tori not being human crossed my mind as I watched her so focused and insulated by a force I couldn’t see or hear, but could certainly feel. Was this force that shield she walked with every day in her life to protect her against people like Aivery, Karmen, Andrea, and…me? There had to be a correlation. Did that force help her survive day to day, walking with holes in her sneakers, a busted wig, and tattered book bag on a historically prestigious campus? Was it the same that gave her the balls to fly all the way out to Jersey for the funeral of a dude she didn’t know and wear a party dress just to be sure I was not alone?
The bell rang and Tori and Hill met in the center. For the first few minutes, Kerry resumed her successions of punches. The time seemed to have dragged, waiting for something to happen in Tori’s favor: land a punch—shit, throw more punches! I found myself standing, more anxious than was healthy. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Aivery arrowing the nastiest scowl, but I was too tense, too caught up in anxiousness to care or try to appear affected by it.
Kerry’s big ass managed to walk Tori into a corner, throwing body blows Tori bobbed and weaved through. It wasn’t looking good—or at least, feeling good to watch.
“Now, finish her!” Luke yelled through his curled hands.
Within seconds, Tori wiggled her way out of the corner and was near the center of the ring. She kept her face down and fists close to her cheeks as she approached Hill. Not giving her a minute to prepare, Tori popped her, delivering short jabs to her face. They didn’t seem to have much distance in them, but were obviously impactful because Hill’s head popped back, behind her shoulders each time, and her eyes rolled in the same direction.
“Tap dance on that bitch, Tori!” ShawnNicole screamed.
Standing on her feet, fists balled tight and face screwed, she seemed as captivated as I was. Several people on my side did. Hill had yet to gain her stance since boxing Tori into the corner. Tori let up, giving Hill time to gather her bearings. When Hill swung a right cross, Tori blocked it and hit her with an uppercut. Hill was the big tree that fell in the forest, her descension was slow and breathtaking. It wasn’t until she hit the floor that she woke up. The impact alarmed her. But she was done. She struggled to balance herself. Holy shit… The referee jumped in, observed her eyes then called the fight. Tori knocked Hill out and won.
Not only did she win, she whooped old girl’s ass! But it wasn’t about a fight of rage. I’d seen countless street fights, had been in them, and some with my cousins. There’s a certain level of anger and experience needed to engage physically, and even then, you’re not guaranteed to walk away the victor. But what Tori just did required natural skill and studied technique, conditioning, preparation and calm. Fuck. I was aroused to discover this…mastery in the tomboy.
DJ Paulie kept the “dog” t
heme going with “Get at Me Dog.” It was done in good spirits, which was evident by his energy at the turntable. His excitement mirrored everyone around the gym with the exception of Hill’s team and the judges, who had to be neutral. Fist pumps and hoots was the theme of this victory. I don’t think anyone cared about rocking out to another old-school track. Good music was good music and Panthers were versed in celebrating victories.
As the referee held Tori’s gloved hand in the air around the ring, I murmured to myself, “You’re a real Panther now, Nabby-girl.”
I’d have to explain that to her tomorrow after our morning run.
When I reached the end of the last lap, my legs felt like logs, blood rushed my veins all over my body. And damn, did it feel amazing. I walked over to my bag and pulled out a towel to wipe my head and face. As I fought to control my breathing, I heard Tori come to a stop behind me. Her speed had improved over the past six weeks. She went straight to her water bottle and ran it over her dripping forehead.
“Getting better, kid.” I smiled at her.
Tori turned away to drink her water. Immediately, I felt the cold vibes. Admittedly, I didn’t talk much when we came out here at the crack of dawn’s ass to run. I was still getting used to having someone with me. I’d been running alone in the mornings since my sophomore year when the stress became overwhelming while pledging with Benjamin Pettiford as my Dean of Pledge. Although we had to be on-call twenty-four-seven, I was still able to find the time to run. Alone. Living under a bunch of spirit-broken dudes with one fleeting-by-the-task—sometimes seemingly impossible—goal for the semester had been grueling. The running alone and in obscure places where no one could find me helped balance my sanity.
But some days, I couldn’t shut Tori up after runs—well, in Tori’s unique way of being garrulous. She didn’t exactly sluice words at rapid-fire pace, but she had a way of asking questions in a manner totally contradictory to her normal standoffish manner. Today wasn’t a day I’d expect reticence.
