Mikaela's Perspective.
(The Past...)
It was the first day of my sophomore year. For the first time in a very long time, things were looking up.
Several students stood in the distance, near a small ladder leaning against the wall next to a poster that read, "Congratulations Mikaela Stevenson: 2023 Panats Middle Weight Champion."
"You're taking it down already?" I inquired as I drew closer.
"Sorry champ, Principal's orders." one of the boys responded.
Kelly caught my attention as she waved, she was standing next to Andrea. They had probably just finished guiding the freshmen on a tour.
"You still, give tours sis? Aren't you the principal or something?" I inquired as I approached.
"Presi-DENT, Mikaela!"
I clicked my fingers "Ah yeah, that's right I knew you put a 'dent' in somewhere, poor 'press' club"
"How do I look?" she asked.
"Haha, Mikaela, I see what you did there with the president joke. Oh, you're so funny," I teased while adjusting her collar.
She concealed a smile. "Was that funny, Andrea?"
"I don't think it was, you know," Andrea played along. "A bit too telling."
"I swear I can't deal with both of you. You're all set, sis. Now go crush the matriarchy."
As she walked away, she blew numerous kisses with both hands. "Wish me luck!"
"Pssh. I mean, with that right hand of yours, I doubt Mrs. Garcia stands a chance."
Kelly was too far off to hear the joke, and Andrea remained silent.
"Seriously, folks, that was pure gold," I grumbled while throwing my hands up in the air.
I turned to Andrea. She was carefully observing a student, and I leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I bet you fifty bucks that's a freshman."
"Yeah, you'd probably win. Pretty sure that's the no-show from the tour this morning."
She placed her books in her locker and retrieved a folder. "Yup," she continued nodding. "that's Miller, alright."
"Ugh, that name makes me nauseous," I declared as I opened my locker.
Glancing back at Andrea one last time, she had a certain mischievous look about her, clearly up to no good. "Oh no, the poor soul doesn't have a clue what he's about to get into."
Turning around, Andrea sported a wry smile, conveying the mischief written all over her face as she walked backwards. "I mean, it's not like I'll kill him," she shrugged her shoulders, winking as she turned around.
I didn't know Andrea all too well but we had a friend in common, we were both sophomores and we were locker neighbors so it seemed natural for us to be friends.
"Edward? Edward Miller?" she asked from a distance. "Nice of you to show up to the tour this morning."
"Edward Miller," I repeated. Awfully strange coincidence I thought.
The bell went.
"Ugh, American History!" I muttered as I made my way to class.
The bell went again
The speakers went off just after the bell. "Edward Miller please report to the principal's office, Edward Miller please report to the principal's office."
"Edward Miller, why does that name ring a bell? Hmm, a quick check wouldn't hurt," I pondered as the class began to empty. I reached for my phone.
Someone snatched the phone from my hand before I could type in a word.
"Oh, hey there, didn't notice you," Brooke began, leaning casually against the front of my desk. She playfully dropped her glasses with a finger, then turned to give me a look while tapping the back of my phone rhythmically with her fingers.
After a brief silence, we both burst into laughter. She leaned in for a hug. "Ugh, I've missed you," she confessed, holding me in a tight embrace.
"Missed you more," I replied.
Brooke was an extremely disciplined operator, a stickler for the rules. She stood a bit shorter than me, this difference became more apparent before her fights, as she would typically shed some weight. Petite and lean, her muscles were well-defined and toned from her rigorous training routine. She was undoubtedly the best boxer on the team, with piercing blue eyes that sparkled with mischief, she sported a short, messy bob of blonde hair.
"By the way," she said, letting go, "It's just 10 am, champ. How about we take a break from the phones, okay?"
"Sure thing, boss," I replied, taking the phone back.
"Let's go," she continued, sliding her arm into mine. "How's your hand? And more importantly, how was Paris?" she inquired.
"Fine and very fine," I replied, leaving her with a subtle wink.
"Oh, VERY fine?" she questioned, widening her eyes as if trying to scrutinize me.
"Very fine," I reiterated.
"And how fine is 'Very Fine,' ma'am?" she asked, as we strolled through the hallway.
I rolled my eyes. "Crazy fine..."
It was Wednesday already. I got to the gym last. Brooke was pointing at her wrist
I set my gym bag down as I mouthed the words "I'm sorry"
Kelly was standing by the ring precursors. She had her hand on her forehead.
"Don't mean to state the obvious here my president but isn't this supposed to be set up already." Brooke started.
"Of course it is Brooke. I'm sure I told Mrs. Garcia." Kelly replied as she anxiously scrolled through her phone.
Brooke tilted her head as if to say watch this. Suddenly, a wry smile stretched across her face.
I lowered my head, sorting through my gym bag, fully aware of what was coming. Brooke and I had made it a habit to gently remind Kelly about the paper she had written critiquing the allocation of the school's finances.
"Oh Kelly Dear, I'm sure she has other PRESSing matters to attend to." Brooke quipped.
I couldn't contain the laughter, placing my hands on my mouth as I lifted my head to witness Kelly's reaction.
She was shaking her head "Good one Brooke," she started "You're a real pro."
Brooke blew a kiss. "I love you."
"Uh, so about the ring," I began.
Kelly was already scanning the gym. "Get that guy to come help," she said, pointing in the distance.
"How exactly am I supposed to manage that?" I inquired as I started to walk off in that direction.
Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, offer him a croissant or something," she suggested.
Brooke collapsed to the floor, her laughter faintly reaching my ears from where I stood.
Shaking my head, I remarked, "Of course, target the innocent bystander," as I continued to step backwards.
She winked, approached Brooke, and then helped her up. They exchanged a few words before Brooke shook her hands.
"Silly girls," I exclaimed, starting to turn around just in time to collide with someone.
I pivoted around, coming face to face with another student who looked vaguely familiar. Securing his left wrist with my right hand, I effortlessly helped him to his feet.
"There you go. Upsie daisy."
He let out a scream for some reason. Was he trying to make a big deal out of nothing?
"You're alright," I reassured him, examining for any obvious issues. Finding none, I tapped his left shoulder twice. "Good as new."
"Mm Hmm" he responded pulling his left shoulder away.
"Sorry about that…" I said looking intently at his left shoulder.
"Uhmm, We need some help hanging the heavy bag." I continued, pointing back at Kelly.
"Is that a boxing ring?" he inquired, still massaging his shoulder.
I nodded and skipped toward the group, motioning for him to follow. "Come on."
"That took like an hour, bro," Brooke remarked.
I leaned forward slightly, playfully snapping at the air, "I'll bite your head off!"
"Send him back; we're all good," Kelly announced, raising her head.
Turning around, I shouted from where I stood, "Don't worry, we're all good!" My two thumbs were in the air. "Thanks!"
He returned the gesture, lifting his right thumb.
"Alright, guys! Time for the serious business," Brooke declared. "Let's work, let's work, let's work!"
Kelly helped me with the gloves. Earlier that morning, she had mentioned that this would mark her last training session with the team. She was bidding farewell to fully devote herself to her journalistic passions at the press club.
I extended my arms, assessing the distance to the bag as I rose onto my toes.
Reaching out with my left hand, I made contact with the bag and executed a jab with my right, followed by a quick right hook.
Pushing the bag away with my right hand, I released it and then connected with a straight left.
"Good job, Mikaela!" Kelly encouraged.
"Come on!" Brooke added shortly after. "You've got a fight to win, champ," she emphasized as she got gloved up herself.
She was correct; I did have a title defense coming up against Damaris Umar, a late replacement from Nigeria. I had limited information about her, but one thing I knew for sure was that she didn't handle body shots well. All four of her losses had been TKOs from body shots. However, she was a live wire herself, having won the rest of her twenty fights by knockout; she was very much heavy-handed.
It was a stark contrast to Theresa Jonas, the originally scheduled opponent who pulled out just yesterday; she was more of a boxer-mover, and I had spent most of my time training to fit her style. All that had to change now.
Having only a couple of weeks left to prepare and with Kelly no longer on the team, the urgent challenge was finding quality sparring.
My sole option seemed to be a decently sized member of the football team.
"Wouldn't be the first time," I muttered as I shifted to the orthodox stance and resumed a high guard. In my mind's eye, I envisioned Damaris's face on the heavy bag.
"Haie! Ha-Haie!"