Page 4 of Bruised Hearts

“The Ninth Round.” I looked up at him excitedly.

“The gym?”

“Yes, and if you’re familiar with the place, you know why I’m suggesting it.” The Ninth Round was the place fighters went to start over. Away from the glitz and glimmer. It was raw, gritty, and extreme. No cameras, no publicity, it was all about the sport. They didn’t play when it came to their routines in there.

“Hold on, she already has a trainer.” Stone was now on the defensive.

“Your cousin? Let’s be for real. That nigga wouldn’t know a jab from a combo. He’s a good guy, but he’s not a trainer. You asked for my opinion, so I gave it. Up to you what you do with it. If you’re asking me for help, I’m telling you, she needs an entire new corner starting with her trainer.” I laughed under my breath causing Stone to shoot a look my way. It wasn’t funny, I was actually masking my hurt.

This was the story of my life. No matter what I did, I was never enough. I was tired of hearing that shit. People think that the hardest part of being a boxer is when you get hit. That wasn’t the truth at all. The worst part was the looks you get when you don’t hit back. See, nobody remembers when you controlled the fight and was leading the score cards. They only remember how many you missed, when you slipped, or got knocked down. That’s what sticks in their minds. When you weren’t enough. I’ve had enough of that shit for a lifetime.

Standing up, I walked out and got in my car. I wanted to cry, but I fought back the tears. I drove around until I ended up in front of The Ninth Round. Grabbing my phone, I called the only friend I had. I had met Charlotte during the time of my conviction. She was in there on a possession, but she had that white money, so instead of the state penitentiary, she was put in the academy. Charlotte’s mother was black, and her father was white, but that baby was definitely a nigga.

“Hey bestie, what you doing?”

“I just had a meeting and they basically told me I wasn’t a good enough fighter and I need to start over from scratch.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I need to go to a gym where nobody knows who you are or what you’ve accomplished. Just your skill.”

“Okay, either I’m slow or I don’t see what the problem is.” I looked at the phone and laughed. She had a way of not reading the room that always surprised me. Cus how you don’t see what the hell I’m saying?

“Charly, really?”

“What? I’m genuinely asking.”

“I just told you he said I’m not enough, so I need to start over and you saying what’s the problem. I’ve been fighting for years and I’m in the same spot I was when I started. That shit hurts and of course Stone is only pissed because all he heard was, I still wasn’t about to produce a big payout.”

“Fuck Stone. I don’t care what he thinks, but if this is what you really want to do then why not get the help that will help you be your best? If I have a gift, I would want to perfect it as much as I could. I get you feel like your life is at a standstill, but he didn’t just tell you no. He gave you the means to fix it, so he can say yes.” Hearing her say that gave me a new perspective.

“You lucky that makes sense or I was on my way over there.”

“Whooaaa now champ. I don’t want any problems you know I can’t fight. Black lives matter. You’re pretty, you’re important. How much more do I need to say to stop you from wanting to beat my ass?” I was now laughing hard and in a better mood.

“Bye, Charly.” Hanging up the phone, I got out of my car and looked up at the sign. The name of the gym spoke volumes. Anybody in the sport will tell you the ninth round is the hardest in boxing. By that time most people are tired, winded, and beaten so badly they can barely hang on. So, naming it that tells me this shit wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Grabbing the door, I took a deep breath and walked inside.

“Here goes nothing,” I said out loud as I entered.

3- Landon “Breaker” Mercer

“Nana what the hell you got on?” She looked at me and smiled before spinning around and trying to do some twerk move.

“They call these Tik Tok leggings. They supposed to make your booty pop because of the scrunchy part. My ass gone have all the boys quiet on the creek.” I looked at her like she was crazy. Adrienne Brooklyn was anything but normal, so nothing she did surprised me. People wondered why Devin was insane, but he ain’t have a choice with a mama that cut up all the time.

“I see I asked that wrong thing. Why the hell you got that on is what I meant to say.”

“I just told your slow ass because it makes my ass pop. You need to see it again?” Shaking my head, I walked over and gave her a hug.

“You gone make me call pops on you. He giving you too much freedom over here. Maybe he needs to make you move in his house, so you can be monitored.”

“You a snitching ass jit. Ain’t that what you be saying? I got hoes and I need space for them to take me through derrrr.” I was disgusted and now ready to leave.

“Take you through where, nana?”

“The door to the malls to spend that money.” I couldn’t do shit but laugh because her ass was out here saying shit and she had no idea what it meant. “Why are you in my house questioning me about my thunder cat?”

“I left my sparring gloves over here, and you know I won’t train without them.”