BRAWLER [under contract]

chapter three | CHANCE

The following day in gym class, Rylee could hardly pay attention: his mind was still processing the encounter with Skip and he wanted nothing more than to meet him again. "All right, boys, gather around." Coach Walters motioned all the boys over to the punching bag and made sure they looked presentable. "Dexter, comb your hair, for God's sake! Frankie, tuck your shirt in! And Rylee, please, stop standing in the back row!"

Rylee gulped and looked at the boys in front of him, who had all turned around at the mention of his name. Sweat dampened his forehead. He had always purposely remained in the back to avoid unwanted attention, but he knew he couldn't do that anymore, especially when the large gym doors opened and the trainer he had spoken to last night strolled in.

"Lads," Coach Walters began in an overly excited tone. "This right here is Skip Lawson. He's travelled from Kensington to get a look at you lot, and—" he raised a finger up for emphasis, "—one of you might have the privilege to work with him."

Dexter, one of the boys who had been attacking Rylee, spoke up in an annoying Cockney accent. "Oi, you an 'as-been?"

The fellow boys began tittering amongst themselves.

Rylee remained silent, his eyes darting between Dexter and Skip, waiting for the repercussion. But, from what he had seen from Skip, he looked just as strong intellectually as he did physically.

"You've got a mouth on ya," Skip commented in his strong, silky-smooth voice. "My father was a boxing trainer, as was my uncle. Runs in the family. However, instead of immediately going into instructing young men such as yourselves, I went to Cambridge University and got a degree in English and Political Science. It was something to really pass the time and to remind me that I really wanted to teach boxing. I got out of school at twenty-four, got a job as a fishmonger, then eventually started boxing myself."

"Did you learn from the greats?" one boy piped up.

Skip smirked. "Actually, my trainer was England's first female trainer, Alison Curtis."

"I'm sure you laid her on the mat a few times then," another boy jostled, quickly accompanied by a handful of sniggers.

"She's actually in her fifties and has six children, I believe. Extremely wise and good at what she believed in. I boxed with some of her male students and learned from them. I learned how to be both fast and smart in under a second. It's amazing how one blink or one shift of your body can cause you to win and lose. Though, between my jobs and working with her, I was a street fighter."

There was a more excited response to this, with the boys moving in closer, eagerly wanting to more.

"Anyway, I'm just here to critique and consider taking on a student."

"Just one?" Dexter squawked.

Rylee cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Skip, only because he felt as if someone had been watching him. When his eyes met the trainer's, Rylee turned away.