On the Ropes

by Christa Cervone

  “She’ll come out eventually. Unless she plans on sleeping in there,” Adrian jokes.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “What? Since you’re home, I ain’t gettin’ laid now anyways.”

  “And people call me a man-whore,” I shake my head, as I walk through the living room and into my room; shutting the door behind me.

  I hear Adrian’s muffled voice through my door. It sounds like he’s begging the girl to come out. I then hear the door open abruptly and her begin to yell at him, “I thought you lived here alone!”

  “I never said that,” Adrian says defensively.

  “What is this, a game you two play?” she snaps.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You bring a girl home and then the roommate suddenly comes home?”

  “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, but I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  “Gladly,” she snorts loudly.

  I hear her stomping her feet throughout the apartment. It gets quiet for a few moments, then I hear the door slam.

  I wait a minute before going back out into the living room. “She gone?” I ask loudly.

  “Yeah, she’s gone, and I got the worst case of blue balls right now,” Adrian groans and takes a swig of his beer.

  “Sorry, man. I had no idea you’d have a girl here.”

  “Eh, don’t worry about. You win some, you lose some. How’d training go today? You ready for your fight?”

  “I’m ready as I’ll ever be. Frankie brought in some new fighters today and they kept me on my toes.”

  “When’s the fight again?”

  “Next weekend.”

  “Well, you know I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  “No worries.”

  “Oh, check this out,” excitement is shining through in my voice, “there’s this guy who wants me to be ‘the face’ of his gym.”

  “No shit, really?”

  “Yeah, his name is Blaine Davis and he’s opening this new boxing gym in Spencer.”

  “And what does Frankie have to say about this?”

  “He’s all for it… I just don’t get it.”

  “Well, he must have his reasons,” Adrian replies.

  “He thinks it’s a good opportunity for me.”

  “Has Frankie ever led you astray?”

  “No.”

  “Then do it. Frankie’s got your back. He always has and he always will.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” I smile at him. “Thanks, man.”

  “Any time, bro.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning. I gotta train again tomorrow. You know how Frankie is about me getting a good night’s sleep.”

  After washing up in the bathroom, I drop onto my bed. It’s been a long day between training and the meeting with Blaine. I lay awake staring at my ceiling; my mind racing with the day’s events. Tossing and turning, I desperately try to fall asleep.

  Salem creeps into my mind. I remember her pale blue eyes as they looked me up and down, the way she strutted through the gym, and her tight ass… I bet you could bounce a dime off of it. She has a huge chip on her shoulder, but I’d still love to take her up against a wall and fuck her senseless. I can definitely show her what it’s like to be fucked by a real man, and not that pretty boy she calls a boyfriend. He’s probably afraid he’ll mess up his hair during sex.

  My thoughts drift to creating a fantasy of Salem and me. We’re in the locker room at Frankie’s gym and I’m all hot and sweaty from training. I have her pinned up against the wall and she’s completely defenseless against me, but she’s into it. Her skirt is up around her waist and the little piece of fabric she calls underwear is interfering with what I want. I grind my body up against hers and my dick is swelling as I rub up on her thigh. My hands roam freely over her body, finally landing on her tight ass. Our tongues are dueling and I’m drunk on her taste. The scent of the perfume or body spray she’s wearing is tormenting me until I’m at my breaking point. “God, Salem, you smell so fucking good; it makes me wanna fuck you until you can’t remember your own name,” I growl. Her hands tighten in my hair and a stronger wave of her scent drifts into my nose as I inhale. My chest is heaving at my thoughts and my breathing is labored. Sliding my hand into my boxers, I adjust myself to get more comfortable and my thoughts are almost immediately back with Salem. Her perfectly manicured nails are clawing at my back now as I dig my fingers into her legs. I kiss her neck roughly as she pants in my ear, “Make me come, Saint.” Then she bites my earlobe and I lose control. I’m so anxious to have her that I rip off the expensive panties she’s wearing and slam my cock into her like her pussy is my saving grace. I smile when she screams in pleasure as she comes apart in my arms.

  Unconsciously, my hand slides back down into my boxers until it meets my aching erection. This time I begin stroking myself; I just can’t help it. Salem… there’s just something about her… I’m not sure if it’s her beauty or the fact that I’ll have to work to get her. But, whatever it is, she will be mine.

  “In boxing, there are no gas tanks. You run out of gas, that’s it.”

  —Evander Holyfield

  I’m awake even before my alarm goes off. I feel no more rested than I did yesterday because I tossed and turned for the majority of the night. The fight, Frankie, Blaine, and of course, Salem all weigh heavily on my mind. I quickly take a shower and get ready for the gym. I want to beat Frankie there, to prove to him that this fight means just as much to me as it means to him. I grab my helmet from the top of my dresser and head out.

  Being so early, I make it to the gym in less than five minutes since I was the only person on the roads at this hour. The sun is just beginning to rise as I park my bike. I unlock the door and walk to the back of the gym to turn the lights on. It’s so quiet in here; it isn’t often that there isn’t either the sound of kids laughing or fighters training. I look around at the beat up old gym, with its boxing ring that doesn’t have stairs and the ropes on it that are sagging from all the wear and tear. I see the punching bags against the back wall, covered with tape because of all of the gaping holes in them from being punched so many times, and the worn out mats under my feet that are so cracked, they’re held together only by duct tape and a prayer.

  A smile crosses my face as I remember all the good and even some of the bad times here. I would’ve loved to have seen this place on its opening day because I’m sure it was great. Man, I bet Frankie was also a sight to see in his heyday. I wonder how often he’d gotten in the ring back then. On occasion, he does still spar with me, but he says his sciatica bothers him too much to do it often. He usually just sticks to being my “chief second”; head trainer. The thought of not training with him in this gym anymore actually makes me depressed.

  I begin to think back to the brutal training Frankie put me through when I was prepping for the Golden Gloves. My body was so run down, he literally had to drag me out of my bed some mornings because I physically couldn’t get out of bed. That’s when his mantra for me began, “Never give up, kid. Never give up.” It’s what he used to chant to me when he could see the misery in my face as the tears ran down. When I felt like throwing in the towel and giving up, Frankie would get right in my ear and say it over and over again. He wouldn’t let me quit, even if I wanted to.

  “Hey kid, you okay?” Frankie’s voice wakes me from my memory.

  “Jesus, Frankie, why you sneaking up on me like that?”

  “Sneaking up on you? I walked right past you. Where were you anyways?”

  “Ah… I was just thinking about the ole days.”

  “The ole days? What ‘bout em?”

  “Nothin’ really, just how ‘Never give up’ started.”

  “You’re not givin’ up on me, are you Gabriel?”

  “No, nothin’ like that,” I shake my head.

  “Well, what gives?”

  “I’m just thinking about how mu
ch I’m gonna miss training in this place.”

  Frankie does a double take at what I just said. Then a smile quickly forms on his old wrinkled face. “You’re gonna take Blaine’s offer?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  “Gabriel, I think this is the smartest thing you’ve ever done in your life. Well, besides walking into this gym,” Frankie chuckles.

  “God, I hope so, Frankie… I hope so,” I reply. I’m still second guessing my decision.

  “There’s nothin’ to worry ‘bout, I’ll be with you the entire way. You’re not gonna get rid of me,” he smiles. “I’m gonna go call Blaine.”

  “You can’t,” I stop him.

  “And why the hell not?”

  “Because it’s only five thirty.”

  “Oh, right. Well, I’m gonna go prepare for the day. The kids will be showing up in no time. After you get back from taking them to school, we’ll call Blaine and tell him the fantastic news,” Frankie whistles happily as he walks to his office.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  I watch him sit down behind his desk, his face still beaming. How can I not trust him? He’s always had my best interests at heart. He’s one of the only people who’ve been a constant in my life; no matter how much I fuck up, Frankie is always there.

  The kids begin to show up and I go through my morning routine with them. When it comes time to walk them to school, I’m out the door quickly. I don’t fall for any of their stalling tactics this morning. A lot of these kids remind me a bit of myself when I was their age. They have an answer for everything and think they can pull one over on everyone. Little do they know, I wrote the book on excuses and lies for getting out of school. Well, except for the girls, they have one up on me. They use their “that time of the month” card and that usually sends Frankie and me into a tailspin. Neither of us knows how to deal with that. I’ve seen Frankie turn about five shades of red when one of the girls told him she had her period and couldn’t go to school. He had the school nurse on the phone so quickly, it was like she was on speed dial. The nurse explained to Frankie that having her period did not prevent her from attending school and to send her in with me. That was the last time Frankie fell for that line, but he still gets uncomfortable when one of the girls mentions it.

  “Alright guys, let’s go… pick up the pace! I need to be back at the gym as soon as possible,” I say, loud enough to get their attention.

  “You got a hot date or something, Saint?” Jeannette teases.

  “No, Jeannette,” I answer her, “Frankie and I got some business to take care of.”

  “I heard there was some really hot chick here last night,” Antonio chimes in.

  “Where’d you hear that from?” I raise one eyebrow.

  “Miguel. He lives in my building. He said this guy pulled up in some fancy Corvette, and the girl with him looked like a movie star. Are you gonna ask her out?”

  I laugh. “No, I’m not gonna ask her out; she has a boyfriend. But yes, what I have to do involves the guy in the fancy Corvette.”

  “Are you buying his car off of him?” Jonathan asks eagerly.

  “Ha! I wish, but no. Now, that’s enough of the interrogation. I’ll tell you guys all about it on the way back from school.”

  That seems to satisfy them and the rest of our walk to school is a pretty quiet one. Their minds must be reeling with questions to ask me later. After dropping them off at school, I jog back to the gym where Frankie’s anxiously waiting for me in his office. “It took you long enough!” he shouts as I walk through the door.

  “Sorry Frankie, the kids were interrogating me the entire way to school. It was like the Spanish Inquisition and it kind of slowed us down a little.”

  “Come on in here and have a seat, I’m gonna put Blaine on speaker phone so you can hear everything.”

  I hurry into Frankie’s office, so that he won’t bitch at me further, and sit directly across from him. He picks up his ancient, corded black phone and hits the speaker button. The dial tone is so loud, I swear you can probably hear it in the locker room. Frankie holds a notebook in his hand and his eyes are straining to read what’s written, “Can you read me that number?” he asks as he holds it out to me.

  Taking it from him, I stare down at the number, “How the hell do you read your own writing?” I joke.

  “Obviously I can’t, since I’m having you read it to me.”

  “Hold on, I think I have his number,” I reach into my pocket for my wallet. Opening it, I rifle through a bunch of scrap paper pieces. The majority of them have girls’ names and telephone numbers on them. I guess it’s been a while since I cleaned out my wallet because half of these names I don’t even recognize. I begin making two piles on the corner of Frankie’s desk; one for girls I remember and one for those I don’t.

  “What are all those?” Frankie asks.

  “Nothin’, just a few phone numbers.”

  “Some phone numbers?” he scoffs. “Looks like a little more than a few.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a while since I cleaned my wallet out.”

  Frankie says nothing, but he gives me a look of disappointment and disgust.

  “Found it!” I nearly jump out of my chair to hand it to him.

  “Good, now read it to me,” Frankie orders.

  “Eight-five-seven-sixty-six-twelve.”

  We sit silently while the phone rings.

  “This is Blaine,” I hear on the other end of the line.

  “Hey Blaine, it’s Frankie.”

  “Hey Frankie, it’s really great to hear from you,” Blaine replies eagerly.

  “I have Gabriel sitting here in my office with me,” Frankie adds.

  “Hey Saint, I hope you’re going to tell me what I want to hear!”

  “We’ve talked about it, and we’ve agreed that it would be in Gabriel’s best interest for you to sponsor him, and for him to begin training at your gym.”

  “This is fantastic news!” Blaine exclaims. “I’m so happy you’ve decided to join our team.”

  Frankie gives me a look. He glares at me, then down at the phone, and he mouths, “Say something.”

  “Thank you for giving me this amazing opportunity,” is all I can come up with.

  I look up at Frankie and he’s waving his hand, egging me on to say more.

  “I’m really looking forward to training at your gym and I can’t wait to see it.”

  Frankie gives me the thumbs up.

  “Why don’t you and Frankie come by today? We’re just putting the finishing touches on a few things and are slated to open this weekend. I’d love to get you in here and training by then. It’ll be great for publicity. We’re planning a huge event for Saturday morning; Channel Five will even be here.”

  “What time would you like us there?” Frankie interrupts.

  “Any time after ten will be fine. I’ll be heading over there in about forty-five minutes since I have a meeting with my contractor at nine.”

  “Ten it is… we’ll see you then.”

  “Saint, I’m really excited you decided to do this with me.”

  “I’m excited to be working with you, as well. We’ll see you around ten.”

  “See you then,” Blaine answers.

  I look at Frankie; he nods his head and hangs up the phone.

  “Well, I guess training is out today,” I smile coyly.

  “Why do you say that?” Frankie looks at me, confused.

  “’Cause we’re going to check out the new gym.”

  “Oh kid, you’re not getting out of training. You’re packing your stuff and bringing it with us. We’re gonna break in Blaine’s new equipment even before he opens his doors.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him.

  “Don’t think for a minute we’re skipping a day.”

  “Alright, if you say so,” I stand up. “I’m gonna go pack my gear.”

  “Champions aren’t made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them - a desi
re, a dream, a vision.”

  —Muhammad Ali

  We arrive at Blaine’s gym at exactly ten o’clock on the dot. Like usual, Frankie is right on time.

  “Wow! This place is huge,” I’m in awe. “It must be twice as big as your gym.”

  “Maybe not twice as big, but pretty close,” Frankie corrects me.

  The two of us exit Frankie’s car and start to walk around towards the front door. The outside of the building is painted stark white, and there’s a large sign on the parking lot side revealing that “TKO” is the name of the gym.

  “I’m gonna be boxing at a gym called ‘TKO’?” I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

  “It’s just a name, kid. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say! You’re not the one who’s gonna be fighting in less than a week with the announcer proclaiming, ‘Fighting out of TKO,’ and your name.”

  Frankie pauses. “Since when do you care what people think?”

  “I dunno,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

  “It’s not where you train, it’s who trains you that matters.”

  As we round the front of the building, we’re looking right into the gym. The front has floor to ceiling windows, so when people are stopped at the traffic light, they can see directly inside. The place looks just as large on the inside as it does from the outside. The ring, being centered right in the middle of the room, is set up to be the main attraction. It’s in pristine condition, unlike Frankie’s used and abused canvas. I notice, in complete wonder, that there are at least a half-dozen brand new, heavy bags hanging against the back wall and some speed bags as well, which Frankie doesn’t even have at his gym. To the left of the ring, there are three stair climbers, four ellipticals, two rowing machines, and five treadmills.

  I turn to Frankie, “They have cardio equipment!” I’m trying to contain my excitement, but it’s hard.

  He just smiles and nods.

  Opening the door, I beckon to Frankie, “After you.”

  “Well, aren’t you the gentleman? No wonder all the ladies want you,” Frankie teases.