“Oh, okay,” I responded while scanning the “price chart.”
Slate had figured out the “cost” for everything from just hanging out at the gym after school to private one-on-one boxing lessons with him. You could “buy” workout clothes or your own gloves with extra jobs as well.
Jesus. He was running a sweatshop, but that was all right with me.
“Max ten hours a week. You do those ten hours then everything opens up to you free of charge: meals, training, summer program, one set of workout clothes a month. And that even comes with my promise to keep my mouth shut when I find you crying about your sore muscles in the locker room.” He smiled.
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m not going to bullshit you. I expect hard work in and out of that ring. You go to school and then come here. That’s it.”
“I work two jobs,” I informed him.
“Fine. You go to school, work, then On The Ropes. Nothing else.”
That sounded perfect. Well, nothing else except Eliza. Not even professional training with Slate Andrews would stop me from making time to spend with her.
After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “So, you still interested in joining?”
“Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Well, okay, then. Take that packet home and get your parents to sign all the Xs and I’ll see you tomorrow after school. Now, go ahead and hit the track out back.”
“The track?” I questioned.
“You owe me three miles, remember?”
“I’m wearing jeans,” I responded, incredulous.
“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before skipping class.” He walked away without another backward glance.
One year later . . .
A STRICTLY FORBIDDEN BULLHORN BLASTED through the silent auditorium as my name was called to receive my high school diploma. While I never actually saw him, I had not one doubt that it was Till. I burst out laughing as my stomach twisted. It bothered me more than I’d expected that he wasn’t walking across that stage with me.
Till’s life had been busy. He’d been spending a lot of time at a nearby boxing gym as well as working two jobs: cleaning up after construction crews and stocking shelves at the grocery store. Even with all of that, he still never missed a single night at our apartment. He did, however, miss ninety percent of his math and physics homework, thus having failed both, which left him unable to graduate. He’d acted like it didn’t bother him when he’d been told that he didn’t have enough credits to walk across the stage with the rest of our class, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes. He’d laughed it off, saying that it wasn’t like he had any huge plans to go off to a big-name college or anything.
I, however, had been accepted to the local university on a scholarship. I’d decided to take out every possible student loan I could get and move out of my parents’ apartment. Till had laughed when I’d proposed a betting pool to see how long it would take them to notice that I was gone. I bet a decade. He chose a week.
I waited outside the auditorium after graduation was over, looking for Till, but deep inside I knew there was only one place I’d find him.
“Hey,” he said, crawling through the window. He froze just as his large body cleared the opening. “Holy hell! Look at you, Doodle. You’re in a dress.” He smiled a lopsided grin that would have melted other girls. For me, it sizzled.
“See? Just further proof of how messed up the educational system is in this country. I have no idea how they didn’t allow you to graduate today with observational skills like those.”
“Shut up, smartass. I’ve just never seen you in a dress before.”
“Yeah, I didn’t feel like going home to change. My mom was already complaining about having to go to my graduation today.”
“Jesus, that woman is a bitch,” he mumbled to himself. “Well, you look good. Those college boys aren’t going to know what to do with themselves.” His mouth twisted into something he expected me to believe was a grin.
I didn’t fall for it, but I knew why it was there. “Yeah, I’ve heard average-looking accounting majors who like to draw and paint are all the rage right now.”
His eyes narrowed at my assessment.
“However, on the off chance that I do find someone who appreciates my undeniable awesomeness, I’d still have to explain why some guy is always hanging out at my new apartment.” I waggled my eyebrows excitedly.
“You got an apartment?” His whole face scrunched up into a painful grimace before he was able to catch it.
“Yep!”
“Which one?”
“Um . . .”
“Which. One?” he repeated slowly, knowing the answer from my reaction alone.
“The one you didn’t like.” I bit my lip and looked away.
“Doodle, that one was shit. You can’t live there. It’s dangerous.”