The slap of his glove against the punching bag would have startled someone who wasn't used to it. Being all alone in the gym; he didn't have to worry about that. He could feel the vibrations rip through his muscles and soothe his mind. Thoughts drifted away as fast as the dim light of the small lamp on the low desk in the corner next to the heavy door. The sun was setting and he knew he would soon be in the dark; but he was okay with that. He needed to train, he needed to clear his mind, let out some steam.
Zach Goode had always had a tough home life. With a mother who spent most of her time working, and a father who came home drunk or high every night, he was his little brother's main care taker. He made sure he always had his clothes for school ready the night before, told him to brush his teeth, made his lunch, and walked him to his elementary school every morning. Zach didn't mind taking care of Luke, he wanted him to have more support than he had ever had, but he sometimes wished he had time to be a teenager, to have fun with friends on the weekends and find a decent girlfriend, but those thoughts were always interrupted by images of his true love: boxing.
He loved the way the ring smelled each time he walked into his small, rusty old gym, the energy that surged through his whole body and mind as he laced up his gloves, and mostly the stress he could feel himself sweating away with each small step and launch of his fist into the ratty, blue punching bag that hung from the ceiling.
It had all started when Luke was born. Having two parents busy with a newborn and living in New York City, Zach found himself a ten year old riding the subway alone, going to school alone, and basically living...alone. As soon as Luke could walk his mom had taken on another job at night to support the family as his dad drank his paychecks away. Zach isn't understand why his min didn't just leave him, but he didn't want to make things more complicated than they already were, so he kept his mouth shut and just took care of Luke without being asked to. If he didn't, nobody would. It wasn't like Luke wasn't grateful, Zach knew he was. Luke was smart and not athletic at all, and in a way Zach admired that.
He had been walking home one day, going slower than normal. He didn't want to go home and hear Luke cry and didn't want to see the exhaustion on his mother's face as she cleaned, cooked and cradled Luke. They didn't live in a good part of Queens, so it really wasn't a good idea for him to be walking all alone, but nothing had happened to him before so he didn't think twice every day about it.
Strange noises filled his ears as he passed the small grocery about three blocks from his building, and he thought they were coming from around its corner. Being ten and curious, he decided to peak around and look.
Blood covered the ground as a tall and thick man stood over another. Zach could tear his eyes off of the huge gash on the lip of the guy on the cold, snow covered concrete, obviously unconscious. Minutes seemed to pass as the first man kept punching the guy on the ground as hard as he could. He suddenly stopped and saw Zach, wide eyed and white faced.
"Hey! You!" the big guy shouted, scaring Zach.
He tried to say something in his defense as to why he had seen what he had, but his pulse was pounding and he couldn't hear any thoughts his brain was producing.
"Hey kid, you don't tell anyone what you saw and I'll give you free boxing practice, you hear me?" the booming, deep voice of the guy rang in his ears and he knew he just had to agree and get out of there.
So he shook his head as he cautiously stepped back, holding the strap of his backpack for dear life.
"Come to Michael Torri's Boxing Ring tomorrow after school and I will explain everything, you understand? It's just two blocks east," the guy said, slower and calmer this time.
Zach only nodded quickly as he turned and ran.
...
"You can't keep up with me Goode!"
"I will kick your ass!"
The voice rang in his mind as he jabbed the air over and over again. The voice belonged to Josh Abrams, whom he absolutely loathed. Ever since he could remember, Josh had always tried to beat him in everything they did.
Zach's father, Michael Goode, had worked for the Abrams Family Pharmacy for a while. A loyal employee, Michael enjoyed perks and pay raises often. Once he got married and had Zach, he would bring his son to the pharmacy every once in a while to play with Josh. However, they just couldn't get along, and then his father started to drink and drink and drink, and was fired. All ties with the Abrams' and the pharmacy were cut off, and Josh hated Zach more than ever.
Zach knew he was a better person than Josh. Even with a messed up home life when Josh had a stable family, he was smarter and got better grades, he was nicer and didn't stab people in the back. Zach never envied Josh. Never.
Except for one thing, but he didn't know that yet.
...
It was no surprise that Josh came running after Zach that autumn day after school as he walked to the subway station, Josh usually liked to have a crowd when he talked to Zach. Zach had gotten used to it, but something stirred in him that day. His mind raced faster, his blood was hotter as it sped through his body, his fingers we're jittery and he couldn't focus on anything but seeing the ring and the release of his punches in his mind. There was no way he was going to deal with Josh and his crap that day, not with all the stress of not knowing who would be home for Luke, what they were going to eat or what mood his parents would be in, plus the pulse running through his veins that he just had to let out.
"Hey Goode!" Josh called out after him, his ass-hole friends behind him, wondering, waiting and watching; as were most of the kids in the lot.
Zach turned around but didn't say anything. He was already sick of Josh's shit. He just wanted to get his brother and go to the gym. Nothing else was as important to him at the moment, not even trying to get Josh to respect him for once.
"What?" Josh sauntered closer and closer to him. "No hello back?"
"I don't have time for this Abrams," Zach sighed, turned and tried to walk away.
"Have to go babysit Goode? What? Your half ass father can't afford a real babysitter? Huh?"
He could hear Josh and his friends snickering like 12 tear old girls behind him, and as much as he wanted to ignore them, be the bigger person and walk away, he knew Josh was right.
Before he knew it he was running back and throwing a punch in Josh's direction.
Neither of them was sure of what came next but as Josh dodged Zach's punch, they both heard a voice.
"Stop it Josh!"
Something in Josh must have changed, because he took many large steps back, away from a red faced Zach and decided to continue the fight with words.
"Whoa there Goode, you think you can take me?" he snickered again, almost sending Zach hurdling at him again, but Zach knew that if he did he would really hit him this time and surely get expelled.
Zach breathed for a moment before responding, he was ashamed and embarrassed not only because he let Josh get in his head, but because Josh had dodged his punch. He had been doing boxing for seven years and thought he could defend himself.
"I could take you any day Abrams," He said, almost a whisper.
This made a loud laugh escape Josh's lips, as he leaned back and let himself irritate his enemy even more.
"Seriously Josh cut it out," the same voice they had heard earlier said, stepping closer to Josh and placing her hand on his arm.
It was only then that Zach noticed her. At first he didn't see anything special about her, she wasn't tall but wasn't short, she was not drop dead gorgeous but definitely wasn't ugly by any means. She met his eyes for a brief second before she looked back at Josh, who had wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
"You think you can handle me Goode? How about you and me, after the Melwood game, Brig's Ring on Forks Street. I'll show you how much better training I've gotten than you," Josh smirked, knowing Zach couldn't refuse, and for the second time that day, he was right.
Zach knew it was a horrible idea to agree to Josh's proposal, especially since word would get around school about the match and flocks of their class mates would flood the big Brig's Ring after the biggest football game of their high school year. But Zach just couldn't refuse. He had to agree to it or Josh would torment him forever.
"You work at your family's pharmacy?" Zach asked him from across the lot.
Confusion filled Josh's and all his friend's faces. "Yeah? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Bring some drugs, every other guy I've beaten has."
And with that he turned, shoved his hands in his pockets, smiled and headed to get Luke.
...
After the initial adrenaline had worn off in the subway, Zach cursed himself and what he had gotten himself into. Josh was a boxer too and trained at an elite ring that produced only the best. He knew he would be a heavy underdog and might not have the skills to beat him. But he knew he had to, and if he didn't Josh would continue to torment him for the rest of his life.
So he dropped Luke off at their apartment, equipped him with the home phone and the list of emergency contacts, made himself a sandwich and headed for Michael Torri's Boxing Ring.
...
It was two in the morning before his phone buzzed on the bench beside the ring. Zach had been so focused on hitting the punching bag harder than he ever had and punching faster that time slipped away and was the last of his worries. He wanted to beat Josh so badly that he couldn't focus on anything else except his glove making contact with Josh's face. That was motivation enough.
Thoughts of his reality flooded back into his mind when he sat down on the bench and looked at the text from his mom:
Where are you? Please come home.
Zach sighed, feeling guilty. He didn't want his mom to worry about him, that's initially why he first stepped into the gym the day after he saw the fight when he was ten. The big guy, whose name was Greg, had promised Zach on that very first day that if anyone would ever try to hurt him or his family, Zach would be able to fight back. He wanted to protect his mom and Luke, but he also fell in love with it.
So he packed up his stuff and walked back into the cool, dark night, wishing it was the next afternoon so he could punch the shit out of Josh Abrams' face that he imagined on that old blue punching bag that had been hanging from the same spot on the ceiling since the day he walked in.
