The Social Virgin. [✔]

17. Felix's Attic.

Jordan's P.O.V

I ran my hands through my freshly trimmed hair. It was growing out again so I stopped by John's for a new cut. It was after school and it was time for my last practice before my match with Big Joe who was supposed to be an undefeated lightweight boxer straight outta Compton who heard all about me.

Big Joe proposed the idea of the fight but I didn't really care about it until I heard about the thousand dollar reward at the end and I could really use the money and then there's Roger.
Friday...it's now thursday it's either all or nothing.

"Aye Sanchez" Roger said called once I stepped out the locker room. "Yo".

"Aren't you supposed to be in school or something?" He asked rubbing his goatee. "It's 4:30 Rog".

"Oh yeah yeah. My bad. I was thinking its 1:30 or something like that. You're here for the last time before Friday?"

"Yeah" was all I said before continuing on my task.

Ominous P.O.V

Left punch. Right punch. Uppercut right. Lowercut left.

Repeat.

Jordan's solid fist rammed into the punching bag at such speed it could have been recorded breaking. Perspiration build up on his forehead going down his jaw. It hit is bare muscular like bullets.

He grunted with every other swing. Switching positions and his stance. He had kept this going for a while now. His stamina was excellent for such a fight.

With each powerful strike to the sand bag was stronger than the last...more power. He was faster, stronger, and last longer.

When Jordan was in his zone it was just him and the bag. He felt destructive. Releasing all his anger into the poor poor bag. In his mind it wasn't the bag...it was Nate instead.

Warren Beaumont stood at a distance admiring the young boxers technique and stance. This was different...it was new in his book.

Never had he seen someone box like this in a while. He reminded him of Pacquiao in the ring...or perhaps even better.

A smile came it's way onto Warren's face. He only spent about a half hour at The Yard and has already found the one he's been looking for.

The next big thing was standing before him.

"Excuse me sir but who is that gentleman boxing over there" Warren asked a man who happened to be passing by. Roger smirked.

"Well right there is my friend Sanchez. He box over here for a while now" Roger replied to the young man. Roger could tell the man wasn't from her. He was smoking a cuban cigar...the most expensive ones in the world.

"Could I get a chance to speak with him?".

"Yeah. He doesn't bite if that's what your thinking. He's practicing right now. A big match tomorrow though".

"A match tomorrow? Is it at this location right?" Warren asked before inhaling the smoke of the cigar.

"Yes, at eight. Everyone's going to be here. You will really get to see him kick ass then" Roger stated.

Warren nodded. "Thanks for the information".

Jordan didn't notice the two men who stood a distance. All he saw was just Roger for a quick second. The chains on the sand bag was getting crazy as he decided to tone it down. Another broken sand bag would cost him money and that was quite often now.

He stopped boxing and decided to call it a break. As he sat down on a stool beside the window he saw a man approach him. Jordan scanned him.

The white man was tall but not as tall as him...about six feet, brown with a few grays hair, stubble on his cheek. His clothes were causal a polo tee shirt, cargos, and sperry's. Only thing that gave the man out was the cigar.