The cover above is made by the lovely ShaZ6teen you're awesome!! Thank you sm<3<3!!
"Where are you going?" My dad questioned, leaning against the kitchen counter with both of his arms crossed over his sculpted chest, the rays of sunlight coming from the kitchen window giving his tanned skin a warm glow.
Concomitantly, I ate a spoonful of peanut butter so I could gain some more energy, "Training." I replied with a muffled voice due to my over-filled mouth.
He creased his eyebrows, taking of his glasses with the tip of his fingers before carefully putting it on the kitchen table, "Today's Saturday. You don't train on Saturday's."
"We have extra training. The match is in a week remember."
"Right, okay." He countered, "but Don't be late though. We're having dinner at Nathan's new house." He pointed a warning index finger towards my face, giving me a sarcastic glare with his hazel greenish eyes.
Dad and I don't really look alike. We only have the same exact eye color and face shape. Every other feature is from my so called "mother". She has pale skin, rounded blue eyes and dirty blonde hair that shined beautifully when under any lighting. She's very pretty I'd give her that but apparently, it's all a disguise to hide the horribleness inside of her. I'd like to say that looks are the only thing she gave me.
"Do I have to come to Nathan's?" I whined, randomly jerking my legs in every direction.
Let me give you a brief introduction about uncle Nathan. He's been my dad's best friend and only friend since high school. He's a tender-hearted man and I always enjoy spending time with him, but, sadly, uncle Nathan has an eighteen year old son called Sam who never leaves me the heck alone whenever I'm at their house. Some people might say that he's just being nice, but if his only purpose was to be welcoming, would he send me a cringe text that says: since you're a boxer, lets fight over who wins the other person's heart first, but wait, I guess we won't be able to cause you already have mine?
Would he huh?
He even used to send me continuous text messages that only consisted of two words 'hey there' and I had no other choice, but to block him on Instagram, Facebook and every social media application possible. unfortunately, he still doesn't take a hint.
"Will not." I countered as I slung my Nike bag over my shoulder before strolling towards the door.
.......
"Today's training is gonna be different." Coach Gary informed, walking back and forth in a slow pace with his hands crossed over his chest, "you're all gonna be split into pairs and each pair is gonna practice having a match."
The amount of grunts and oooo's that were heard just as those words left Gary's mouth were capable of making my eyes roll instinctively.
Whenever we have really hard sets, everybody just starts continuously complaining. You want to become a boxer. What do you expect? Fighting a cotton candy stick instead of a heavy bag or tickling your opponent instead of actually fighting? No!
I believe we should train with all our might and be efficient then wait for our hard work to pay off, not just play around and expect to be Mohamed Ali or Rocky Marciano at the end of the season. Right?
"But of course it wouldn't be like a real match. There's only one round just to let you know your common mistakes." Gary pursued with an annoyed sigh and everyone grunted in response.
YOU ARE READING
Bruising Is a Female
Action"They told me you're tough, doesn't seem like it." He satirically smirked, tackling me on the ground with both of his hands holding mine still. "Well they told you wrong boy. I'm outstanding." Not wasting another second, I freed myself from his gras...
