Fighting the Fall ✔

Chapter Fourteen - Part One

Chapter Fourteen - Part One

Dustin King

The first bite was undoubtedly the best. The salty, bready flavour of the pretzel bite was new to my tongue once more. It was as if I was trying it for the first time all over again, and it reminded me of several things.

Caramel ice cream.

Television shows.

Books.

Trusting someone.

All of those things were best during the very first taste, the first watch, first read, and first time around. It was a challenge to find an exception to what Josh had dubbed the Rule of Firsts. He'd told me that's how he feels about girls. The first kiss, the first "lay."

I'd found a major exception to the rule after the first match that I had walked away from with the title, "Winner," in my possession. Each punch that met its target filled me with just what I needed to continue – a sense of strength, both physical and mental. While that had always been true, the first time I'd struck my opponent was not what gave me the high that kept me coming back for more. It was the final blow, the winning blow.

The hit that knocked him clean off his feet and left him breathless on the canvas.

Ten seconds passed. He laid flat for sixty.

The regulars were shocked. The referee couldn't believe it. But Freddy Knight – I'll never forget his name – took longer to recover from his disbelief that I, someone significantly smaller and less experienced than he was, had beat him than he took to recover physically. He was floored, both figuratively and literally.

It was always the winning blow that insisted I return.

The same couldn't be said about these pretzel bites from Twisted, the pretzel shop in the mall cafeteria. The first taste was the best, the second was great, and the third was good. The fourth was okay, but I put the cup they came in down after that. Josh was quick to snatch it up.

With a mouthful, he said, "You know, I always get so much attitude from that one Twisted employee, the curly haired brunette... I think she wants me." He shrugged and popped another bite into his mouth.

I would have rolled my eyes, except I was used to Joshua's ego. It was so inflated that I was surprised it hadn't yet popped. "Maybe," I replied. "Or maybe she's just tired of you trying to pick her up every chance you get. Who knows?" He'd been trying to get over Asia since Monday when she rejected him in front of quite a few people. I caught Tristan hanging out in the background, observing the whole scene as it played out. I didn't miss his satisfied smirk.

Joshua decided to distract himself from the pain the only way he knew how.

He pretended to consider the possibility I presented. Then he shook his head. "It's the former, I'm sure."

"Yeah, the former," I said, this time rolling my eyes.

"Anyway," he began, digging in the tall, skinny cup for another pretzel, "you gonna invite that Lydia chick to your match?"

I sighed heavily, playing with the purple straw of my lemonade cup. "I did, actually, sort of, but never followed up with her about it."

Taking a deep breath, Josh closed his eyes and set the pretzel cup down very gently on the table between us. "Dude, what's wrong with you? Why not?"

"Well, if her dad, who happens to be my coach," I said, reminding him, "finds out about my underground boxing... I don't know. You do the math."