SKYLAR
The parking lot outside Madison’s gym was packed along with the overflow parking on the side of the school. I wedged my small car into a spot between two huge trucks and prayed I’d still have a paint job when this match was over.
Cody had been relentless with the calls, texts, and songs about heartbreak. He knew music was my weakness, and the last YouTube link he sent thirty minutes ago, along with his plea that I come watch the finals, had me caving.
Heavy, sweaty air assaulted my nose when I pushed open the gym door. The bleachers were full, whistles blew from every direction and the echoing noise was enough to cause my eardrums to ache. Greensboro had nothing on the sizzling tension that pulsed throughout the gym.
I only made it three more feet before Cody appeared.
“You came!” He immediately pulled me in for a tight hug. “You have no idea how happy I am you’re here. My bracket is done. I’m just waiting to see who I wrestle in the finals.”
I hugged him briefly, refusing to get lost in the feel of his arms around me. They were too strong. They made me feel safe when he wasn’t. Secure when I knew I had to let go.
Cody’s hands gently touched my cheeks. “I know things are rocky, but you being here…” For a split second I saw a flash of hope, one that made me want to forget my hurt.
“It means everything,” he said.
I was back in his arms, overwhelmed by the scent of him and the feeling that maybe we could make it.
He pulled me to the corner, kissed me like we hadn’t kissed since before his suspension because, for the first time in days, I returned his affection.
“This week has killed me,” he admitted, pushing my hair from my face, watching me with eyes that seemed more vulnerable than those of a fierce champion defending his title.
“I know. Me, too.” I looked around, searching for my friends among the mass of students. “Have you seen Zoe?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them. “Just for today, will you sit with people cheering for me?”
I couldn’t say no, not after he’d made me feel like my being here was the difference between him winning and losing. “Okay, sure.”
He took my hand and pulled me along until we were in the middle bleachers about six rows up. Stopping at the end of a row, Cody waved at a guy with short, dark hair and tattoos. He’d be handsome if he weren’t so scary. The guy waved back and started his trek through multiple sets of legs to reach us.
When I squeezed his hand, Cody laughed and wrapped an arm around me. “That’s Matt, my trainer. He’s here with his wife.”
The pride on Cody’s face said it all. Matt’s opinion mattered to him. Which meant Matt’s opinion of me mattered to him. Suddenly, I was nervous, feeling a little of Cody’s pain when he met my dad.
Matt finally made it to the end of the row and stood next to Cody, slapping him on the back. I didn’t know if it was his height or his size or the hardness of his face, but I immediately took a step back, completely overwhelmed.
Cody’s arm tightened, pulling me forward. “Matt, this is my girlfriend, Skylar.”
Matt stuck out his hand and grinned, his expression softening a little. “Nice to meet you. Cody’s told me a lot about you.”
I shook his hand lightly and tucked closer into Cody’s side.
“You ready?” he asked Cody. “Got your head where it needs to be?”
A silent conversation happened between them and Cody stiffened, his face getting the same ready-to-fight expression that seemed to be permanent on Matt. “I’m winning this thing.”
Matt squeezed Cody’s shoulder. “No holding back.”
“No holding back,” Cody repeated.
I felt like I was in the middle of a Rocky movie, and any minute “The Eye of the Tiger” would start playing.
Cody finally remembered my presence and kissed the top of my head. “Wait for me after the match, okay?”
I nodded, and he took off down the stairs leaving me with a man who made my palms sweat.
Matt stretched out his arm, indicating I should start my journey to our seats. “After you.”
*
My stomach was an array of flips and tingles and just a slight bit of nausea. Blake had swept the other bracket, which meant he’d be Cody’s opponent. The guys stood opposite each other, their faces a mix of hatred and competitiveness.
I peeked over at Matt. His face looked exactly the same, and it sent a shiver through my spine.
“You’ll have to excuse my husband,” Grace said with a dimpled smile. “He gets emotionally involved.” Affection hung off every word while she gently stroked his flexed arm.
For a moment, the vicious fighter was gone. Matt turned and kissed her temple, glancing at her like she was his sun and moon and stars. It’s what I wanted. What I thought we had.
Pushing down the envy, I turned my attention back to the two boys in the center. Nothing good could come from this match. Cody and Blake were already at war, and I had a bad feeling the winner today would secure a whole lot more than a trophy.
The whistle blew and the boys grabbed at each other like animals vying for dominance. You’d think the Super 32 taught me something, but I still had no idea what was happening, only that Matt seemed excited about the moves Cody used. The whistles blew again, and Matt clapped and cheered.
A point was given to Cody.
Time continued, but I was in a daze. To me, there wasn’t much going on, just both boys gripping and thrashing and moving, but neither ended up on his back. Grace tried to explain what moves got points—takedowns, reversals, escapes, near falls, and the list went on.
I stopped listening after the first four points, knowing I’d never remember what she said anyway. My mind didn’t process numbers. They floated in my head, jumbled around and then disappeared, quickly replaced with a new design for my sketchbook.
“This is it. Third and final round.”
The excitement in Matt’s voice had my pulse jumping. Was Cody winning? The points showed Blake having six. Cody with five.
Matt must have seen my confusion. “Blake’s tired. Look at the way his arms are shaking. Cody’s going to pin him in the first minute.”
My throat tightened. I wanted him to be right. I wanted Cody to have that moment. That victory. Everything in me wanted us to make it. I wanted prom and graduation. I wanted late nights picking out our college together. I wanted Cody to be my future.
The round started with Blake on all fours and Cody leaning over him. The whistle blew, and the boys began their locked and strained position again.
Suddenly, there was chaos. Blake had Cody flipped around, struggling to keep his upper back from touching the mat. Matt was screaming about dirty moves and that the ref was blind.
The crowd roared.
Then it was over.
Matt sat down and shook his head ferociously. “So, the punk wants a street fight.” He turned a determined stare to Cody who had his head in his hands, but Matt didn’t say another word. Grace rubbed her husband’s back in a gesture that was obviously meant to calm him. It seemed to work.
I glanced around the gym. Faces everywhere glowed with victory, Blake’s being the brightest of all. But my heart hurt for the man bent over as if second place branded him a loser. I kept my eyes locked on his face hoping he would look up and see that I was there to support him. That I believed in him. That I was strong enough to share in his pain.
He said my being here meant everything, and I wanted him to know he was right. This loss wasn’t the end. We had everything to look forward to.
But his eyes didn’t find me in the seat he had picked out. They flashed toward the front of the gym instead. I turned to follow his gaze and caught a view of Lindsay’s shiny blond hair right before she slipped through the wide gym doors.