Forbidden Fruits

Chapter 9: Blade

I can't get her out of my head. I could count on one hand the number of times a singular girl has kept my attention for this long, and I don't understand what's so different about this girl. It's been a full calendar month since I first saw Peach at the pool, and I've spent the whole time consumed by the thought of her.

I want to see her again. I want to get to know her in a way I've never wanted to know anyone before. I don't know why I'm so enthralled with her, I don't even know her name for fuck's sake. I'd look her up on Instagram if I could, but I don't know anything about her besides the fact that she's from Georgia, she's fiercely Christian if the necklace she wears and the way she dresses is any indication, and, as she said, she wants nothing to do with me.

"What the fuck is going on in your head, dude?" Ray asks me, bringing me back to reality. He's standing behind the punching bag, holding it steady for me. We do these one-on-one coaching sessions three times a week, and I know he's been getting frustrated by my lack of concentration. "I don't think I've ever seen your performance this shitty. You're punching like a Daisy Scout."

I just grunt in response, turning away from him and going to get a drink of water. I'm barely even sweating even two hours into our workout, a true testament to just how bad my focus is. "I'm fine."

"You're pushing my fuckin' limit here, Reilly. Either someone's died or you've got some chick gettin' you off your game. Which one is it?" Ray crosses his arms and stands in front of me, cornering me by the bench. I glare at him.

"None of your fuckin' business."

"Except it is my fuckin' business, Reilly. That's how this works. I let you train in my gym for free, I train you privately for free, I do everything for you so you win matches and can bring home enough money to support yourself and Melody." Ray starts doing the dad thing, the lecturing thing. I always hate it when he does this. "In return, all I expect is some amount of respect and dedication to what you're doing."

"And 35% of all the cash I take home. Don't act like you're running a charity," I scoff. He knows exactly what he's doing right now. He's saying shit to make me mad and fuck me if it isn't working.

"I was running a fucking charity when you came in here at 14, a shitty string bean with no muscle and nothing going for him. I was running a charity when I let you sleep here when Mommy kicked you out. So either tell me what the fuck has got you off your game or get the fuck out so I can be done with you."

I have to stop myself from letting that same angry, good-for-nothing 14-year-old take over me now. I'm not gonna have an outburst like I did back then, especially not towards Ray. As much as I hate what he's saying, he's right. "Fine, fucks' sake. It's the second one."

"A girl. Should've fuckin' known. Who is she?" Ray sighs, losing all the edge and malice he had during our conversation. He sits down on the bench next to my stuff and I sit down with him.

"Don't know." I shrug, taking another drink of water.

"The fuck you mean, 'you don't know'?" Ray looks at me incredulously.

"Don't know her name, just seen her around a bit." I set down my water and start unwrapping and rewrapping my hands.

"You're tellin' me some random chick whose name you don't even know has got you all out of sorts?"

"Yep."

"You're a piece of work. You gonna tell me the story or am I just supposed to guess?"

I chuckle a little at that. If there's one thing I've always loved about Ray is that he understands that I don't like talking, and while he respects that about me and doesn't push me, he's not afraid to give me shit for it. He's not afraid of upsetting me like most people are, that's why I'm content to spend so much time with him despite generally hating being around people.