The Nerd's Bad Boy Boxing Partner

Ch. 3 Makenzie

Punch, uppercut, sidestep, duck, punch. Breath. Right jab, sidestep bend back. " Woah watch the face, bitch." I said chuckling to Valerie who was blocking my shots. She smiled then went to deliver a sick uppercut which I barely missed, then I sank to the floor swiping my left leg to cut her off. But like the show off she was she quickly flipped backwards narrowly missing my jaw.

"That was a dirty move." She said chuckling. I laughed enjoying myself. Then swiftly I jumped back into the fight. We were barely braking sweats we were just playing around. That is until my father decided to stroll right in. Both Valerie and I stopped and stared at him.

"Mack you're never gonna get warmed up playing around." I chuckled wrapping my arm around my taller friend.

"Yeah, but it's not my fault we are the same degree of awesome." I said. He laughed.

See my dad and I are super close. He's the kind of dad that's protective and will beat the shit out of any one that he needs to, but is chill and easy going. Don't get me wrong he doesn't let me do what ever the fuck I want, but he doesn't hover. He had dark brown hair and a fit body. He was only thirty. See, my mom and him had me when they were both nineteen. Years later they had my little brother but mom didn't make it through due to some complications of the heart. I am her spitting image or so I've been told. He looked good for a dad. I mean he wasn't gangster but he was definitely not you're average joe. He was both my dad and my coach. He set up my fights and he also owned the gym. Well not owned it, but practically. We aren't very rich, but we aren't scraping by either. Between his two jobs which were the gym head coach, and also a body guard, and my weekly fight money we get by.

So my dad walks up to us in his gray, baggy sweats and white undershirt with a gray hoodie over it. "Ok, we'll how bout you spar with me?" He challenges. I looked around to see a small group gather. It was most of the gym rats that were here all the time they grinned. I nodded, smiling to Valerie who tapped my shoulder.

"Alright, you're on old man." I say, and all the guys cheer and clap. He nods then sheds his hoodie exposing his ripped biceps.

"Come at me dad-io." I challenge. He laughs then gets on the mat.

"So, focus." He orders staring me down with his baby blues.

I nodded, all joking aside. When I'm in the ring there is no joking. It's real life. I inspect the situation. My dad is a good foot taller than me, which I can use to my advantage. This means I'm faster. He would take longer to try and catch me. I notice one pant leg is longer than the other, and one of his shoelaces are loose. His arms were in the boxing stance, and he was eying me, no doubt looking for weak points.

"Remember, just because you have pride and play fair doesn't mean you're opponent will. Remember, look for any thing that will help. In a real life situation any little thing can change the outcome." He coaches.

I nod then he throws the first punch and our fight begins. He throws a right jab, and I block it and sent a left punch, which he blocks. He tried to upper cut me but I spun out of reach. I felt my blood pump and the adrenaline kick in. I loved sparring with my dad. He didn't let up on me, if he punches at me, he doesn't hold back, which is what I love.

He tried to cut my feet from under me, but I jumped back, pulling off a backflip. I landed in my stance then ran up to him. He was ready for my kick, but at the last minute, I slid down throwing my body at his legs. To stunned to realize what I did, he fell onto the maps and I rolled into position. He jumped quick aiming a kick at my thigh, quickly I deflected it, but he pulled me in and Spun me so I had my back pressed to his chest. He was breathing hard and so was I. I felt him relax, knowing he won, but I was playing dirty. I intertwined my right leg with his left ankle then with out hesitation, I elbowed him making him grunt and I pulled my leg forward sending him sprawling on the mat. He smiled up at me nodding.