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My voice carries through the venue when I lean into the mic and say, “It took months for Tinsley to give this song a name, but she finally did. This is ‘Sinister Attraction.’ Our song.”
Eyes locking in the crowd, I sing every word to her. As if we’re alone, just her and me. Even at a sold-out show, she’s the only one I see. The only one I play for.
The one my heart beats for.
* * *
TINSLEY
My abdomen screams when my opponent’s glove makes contact. I hiss out a breath and reposition my body to prepare for her next attack. Sweat drips from my forehead and down my nose. My back is drenched. But that’s all background noise.
I zone into Skylar’s sharp, calculated movements, tracking them. I’ve made it to my first career title fight. I’m skilled, talented. She won’t beat me. I’ll win this thing, and then I’ll come back next year and defend my win every single day if I have to. It’s mine. Nothing will take it away from me. Not even a woman who’s pushed me to the sixth round with showing no signs of tiring.
My speed isn’t helping me tonight. She’s just as fast. When I win, it will be because of my skill and drive. My inability to give up.
My hands fly in her direction, making contact with her rib cage and the left side of her jaw. She shakes both hits off and returns them. I dodge her gloves and bounce in place. The timer ticks down, and I advance on her despite the force of the hits that fly. My chin, stomach, jaw. She’s relentless, eyes blazing with a drive to win.
I don’t look for my family in the crowd. Don’t search for Noah to see if he’s watching and if he’s proud of me. I already know the answers to those questions.No distractions, I promised myself before stepping into the ring tonight. It’s just me and Skylar and a certified Tinsley Lowry title win.
She snarls in my face, and I fight the urge to grin. Alarm shifts across her face when her back makes contact with the ropes. I’ve cornered her, and she has nowhere to go unless she can take me down.
My jaw aches, and my chest burns from her hits, but I take that pain and use it to strengthen my punches. She defends my first few hits, but I’ve learned everything there is to know about her fight style since we stepped into the ring. After six rounds, I find a crack in her stance and attack.
My body screams in outrage when I take two quick steps back and allow her to hit me. It’s a risky move, but it’s one I’ve watched my dad do several times in his career. Let them believe you’ve run out of steam. Instill a false sense of control and then snatch it back.
The hits don’t register over the adrenaline rush inside of me. She’s tapped into her last pocket of energy and is giving me her all. I’m only partially tuned into the crowd, but I wouldn’t be able to miss my mother’s shouts even if someone filled my ears with glue.
“Tinsley! Fight back!”
I don’t look at her. She didn’t pay as much attention to Dad in the ring as I did. He’s my teacher. I know every single one of his moves. He taught them to me.
A dark smile curls my lips when Skylar gives me my opening. One staggered exhale signals her first lowered guard. I slip beneath it and power forward. One after the other, I bring my gloves to her face. Blood squirts across my throat, her nose crunching. She shakes her head, trying to clear the fog slipping across her mind, but I’m there before she can succeed.
Just like I managed to do in my first fight, I deliver one final uppercut, and it’s lights out for her. She drops to the mats, and then it’s over.
The crowd screams, and I let the ref grab my arm, thrusting it into the air as I drop my head and catch my breath. When I lift it again, a pair of dark brown eyes are waiting. White noise fills my ears as we stare at each other, an invisible string tethering us together. It tugs at my chest, and I wave, wanting him up here when my team slips through the ropes and rushes toward me.
I’m halfway out of my mind when Noah follows my family into the ring. He takes me in his arms, and I let myself go limp in his hold, knowing he won’t drop me.He’s always got me.
Tears run down my face, and my chest shakes with the force of my sobs, but I just let myself feel. Feel the pride and happiness and just how lucky I am to be where I am right now, surrounded by so much love and support and a victory that I’ve always dreamed of claiming.
This is my life now. And I’ve never been more grateful to be alive.
* * *
Hours later,the early October sun sets behind the fence of my parents’ backyard. Yellow leaves cover the ground, and the wind nips at my bare arms, but I can’t bring myself to go inside and change yet. I’m content with soaking in this peaceful moment. It’s such a contrast to the fight earlier.
My brother sits on the chair opposite me on the back porch, his nose buried in his phone. Dad is adding a log to the flames in the stone fire pit, and Noah disappeared inside a minute ago, leaving his spot on the couch to grow cold in his absence. I watch Mom settle at Dad’s side and set a hand on his back as he keeps the fire going. They share a long, soft look, and I smile, my chest warming.
“If you don’t get that phone out of your face, Easton, I’m going to toss it in the fire,” Dad threatens a moment later.
“I’m twenty years old,” Easton replies, the words blunt.
Dad doesn’t so much as blink at his attitude. He’s always had the patience of a saint with my brother. According to Grandpa, that’s probably because Dad was a shithead when he was a teenager.
“And I’m about to toss your twenty-year-old ass into the leaf pile if you don’t listen to me.”
Easton slowly puts the phone away and slides a look toward Dad. It’s clear he’s unimpressed with the demand, but at least he can read the room well enough to know that now isn’t the time to start an argument.
