Knockout Boys

Chapter 23: Got the Glory

I froze in place, the warmth of Kevin's lips on mine too intense to be a dream. With a slight pressure, he pinned my bottom lip between his, then licked across my mouth, parting my lips with his tongue. I gasped, my eyes fluttering shut. My skin was tingling, burning, the nerves on fire at his touch. It was as if my entire being, every cell in my body was shocked and electrified from his kiss.

Kevin pulled away, all too quickly. Eyes dark and half lidded, fingers still gripping my chin, he said, "You're mine."

Nobody else spoke. Not a single person moved or even breathed. I could hear my heart hammering in my chest, sending a rush of blood to my head, making me dizzy and hot. Kevin half smiled, trailing his hand down my neck, pressing his palm flat on the center of my chest. He gave me a gentle push. "Go," he said, nodding to the fight ring, where Paul was standing, pale, eyes wide in horror. "Shut that fucker down."

Cameras were out by now, phones snapping pictures and taking videos of my fate. Perhaps someone got my first kiss on camera. My kiss with Kevin. Kevin kissed me! Me! It didn't feel real. Maybe I was dreaming.

I shook my head, my took deep breaths to get myself in the zone before my dream turned into a nightmare. I could think about everything else later. I had to beat Paul for there to even be a later. Not that I thought I'd die here, but anything could happen with that bully riled up like this. The way he stared at me sent chills down my spine. His teeth were bared, his eyes bulging in his bruised and puffy eye sockets. I swallowed and stepped over the duct tape, onto the dirty, blue mat opposite my enemy.

Paul charged without warning. My heart fluttered like a trapped bird, and I barely sidestepped his attack. My legs were like jelly, trembling and weak. Time slowed down. I felt like I was wading through water in slow motion as I ran and ducked to avoid Paul's blows. Swearing, Paul swung his cast at me with the grace of a sledgehammer, and I stumbled backwards to fall pathetically on my ass.

Scrambling to my feet, I narrowly avoided a kick to the shin. Paul cursed  and charged me again. He was so much taller and larger, a refrigerator of a human being. If he flattened me in a tackle, the fight would be over instantly. I had to be quick and get close to do any damage, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. My whole body screamed at me to run, from Paul, from the maze, from the world. But I was done running. I had to face him down. That asshole thought he could bully after years of friendship like we had nothing. And up until now, I just took it. But that was going to change. I had to show Paul I wasn't a pitiful coward he could sent crying to Kevin like a dog, tail between my legs. I could be strong. I could fight.

Paul lunged forward, smashing my face with his hard cast. Everything spun and flashed like sparks as I fell to my knees. I threw my hands up above my head, but not fast enough to block another blow. I screamed and clutched my face, my cheek exploding in pain. Hot liquid ran through my fingers, blood and tears. Lying on the mat, I peeked through the fingers Kevin bandaged in the thin strips of cloth. I watched Paul approach, grinning, knowing he defeated me, and so easily.

"You see?" Paul growled, standing over me, hands balled into fists. "This is what you get for being a fag. You asked for this." He spat on me. "Worthless piece of trash."

Everything seemed blurry and I squeezed my eyes shut. I think someone was shouting my name, I think Kevin. But he sounded so far away, lost in the yelling of the crowd and the throbbing of my skull. In my mind's eye, another picture of Paul was forming. The first time he ever looked at me with horror and disgust was the day I stupidly blurted out my feelings for him. My childhood friend, my middle school crush. Today's tormentor. I opened my eyes and saw that since my painful confession, his expression never once changed from pure hate.

A kick to my side made me cry out and scramble to get away like a wounded dog. Paul grimaced and kicked me again. Miserably, I slumped against the duct-taped pole, watching as my classmates gleefully recorded my defeat with their smartphones. Among the camera flashes and unknown faces, I noticed a familiar pair of bright, blue eyes. Kevin stared into me, eyes wide, brows knotted, the intensity of his eye contact almost physical. You're mine, he had said. You're my treasure. Kevin thought I could beat Paul. Kevin believed I was worth something.

At the weirdest moment in my life, I cracked a smile. I rolled to dodge another kick and sprang to my feet. Paul froze in shock, but wasn't fast enough to respond, so I got up close and struck his jaw with my fist. The blow landed hard, the force reverberating through his whole skull, sending a jolt of sharp pain through my knuckles. Paul screamed, blood and saliva oozing from where he bit his tongue. I allowed him no time to retaliate, sinking my second punch in his belly, then sent an uppercut to his jaw again. Paul recklessly swung his fist as I slammed my body into his side, using his own momentum to bring him down onto the mat. I sat on his stomach and hit him, hearing a satisfying crack as I slammed my fist into his nose over and over. Paul whimpered and covered his face with his hands, and I stuck out blindly, tears blurring my vision. I wanted Paul gone, erased, pain and betrayal unable to reach me after I beat him to nothing.

Pausing to gasp for air, I noticed Paul was no longer struggling to fight back. He was shaking under me, tears streaming down his bloodied face. His eyes were glazed over, looking at nothing. I scrambled to my feet, nausea and horror twisting up my insides. Paul didn't move from the floor. "I won!" I said out loud. Whispers broke out among the onlookers, then an eruption of cheers. "I won," I repeated, my voice cracking. Paul curled up in a ball, cradling his head in his hands, strangely small.

I backed away and limped out of the ring. Everyone got up in my face, congratulating me, taking pictures, and screaming like I was some celebrity. I shoved past them, bodies crammed against me, suffocating, until I burst out of the shed to the clean air and the stars. I ran, crashing through the crunchy, brown fields of dead corn, my lungs burning as I gulped in oxygen, until my legs collapsed under me. I landed flat on my face with a mouthful of dirt. I pushed myself up, on my hands and knees, and vomited.