Page 22 of Sucker Punch Drunk Love

There was a reason I didn't take on women, and as misogynist as it was, I didn't think women should be fighting. Honestly, I didn't thinkanyoneshould be putting their hands on a woman, but I could understand the need to. Men were supposed to be protectors, but mostly it was other men women needed most protection from. That Medina was a tough cookie, but was it so wrong that I wasn't looking forward to seeing her get roughed up?

Calmáte?*, Josue! No es tu mamá?*. She's built of tough stuff. It was too late not to believe in her now. After balancing this week's expenses, I sought out Sierra, only to find her shooting the shit with Héctor. They weren't doing anything but dancing. Him hyping her up at seeing her change in muscle tone. But I don't know, I may have been a little jealous. What did it matter that she got on with other men? It wasn't like she was my girl or something. The kid was free to flirt with whomever she wanted. Hell, maybe the two of them had more in common. Or maybe she was just more into Black guys.

I wasn't kidding myself with how I presented to the world as a Blanquito?*, or at least now. Growing up Cuban and from the hood, that identity felt so far removed. Hell, where was that whiteness anytime I got stopped and frisked just because I fit the description as a teenager?

Either way, I never felt claim over women because we shared the same skin tone or features. I messed with whoever I was attracted to, and that would always include the woman I was in close proximity to, butespeciallyMorenas?* and Latinas.

Why was I even thinking about this shit? She was my fighter, and I was her coach. Approaching them mid conversation, I tried not to look bitter that she never laughed like that with me.

“Hey, am I interrupting something?” Héctor laughed, giving her a playful shove on her shoulder.

“Nah, we just jostling. You good, you can have your fighter back,” he teased, excusing us as Sierra collected her giggling down to a calm.

“You good Medina, you done flirting?” Her face soured, her hands crossing over her chest.

“What? I wasn't flirting. If you must know,nosy!Héctor was asking me about Culture fest. It's an annual festival celebrating the diaspora. He was going this year and I wanted to know what the vibe was like,” she giggled, composing herself as she clasped her hands behind her back. I had to stop thinking of her as pretty because it was really shouldn't have bothered me this much that it looked like she was flirting.

“Anyways, you’ll be happy to know that with how well you did today, you earned the name of the girl you're fighting. Her name is Natasha Hendricks. She's a white girl from Ohio. The drive’s about 8 hours so make sure you stretch your legs that day because I hate making a lot of stops. Only issue you’ll have, is people love her. She's gonna have a built-in audience. They'll be cheering for her and booing for you. Think you'll be ready for that?” She took a deep inhale, hands on her hips.

“I mean, I'm the underdog, right? I've been doing all this training. It's now or never.”

Gripping her shoulders, I led her to the sauna room, her tolerance for cutting weight distractedly improving.

“You do your best, and it'll be a decent fight. She's seasoned. The girl has had eight wins. If you beat her, it'll fast track you into some even bigger fights.” She sat down, pulling up her feet to lie across the chair.

“What do you think it’ll take to beat her?” Meeting her at her feet, she lifted her leg up, asking if I could help with some deeper stretches. With her ankle hugging my shoulder, all Icould fucking think about was how deep I had to go to get her to yell out papi. This attraction to her was so unhealthy, but thank Dios?* she was so focused. I never had to worry about us blurring that line.

“I’ve spent a few nights watching all of her fights. She's taller than you, and her reach is longer because of that. Her defense is what you'll be really up against. She's gonna use her extension to keep you away. You're gonna have to fight inside the pocket, it's high risk, but it's high reward, and you have the better balance for takedowns, especially with the ankle hooks. Your lower body has the power. We're gonna go over as many techniques before then. The best thing I can tell you is to protect yourself. You do that, and you may have a shot. In the cage, I can't protect you, so the more we work on floorwork, the more faith I'll have in you,” I admitted.

“Think you can do that?” She winced.

“I mean, I could try.”

“Nope! None of thattryshit. Either you can or you can't.” She took a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. I promise to protect myself. Just as long as you keep the tissue massages and the deep stretches coming.”

* You good?

* I swear

* Look!

* Calm down

* It’s not your mother

* Whitey, more like to describe white or white-presenting

* Typically means dark haired, but commonly used to describe brown skin or Black women

* God

CHAPTER NINE

Sierra

The set had over 10,000 pieces, and with just an hour a day, it was going to take the entire rest of my twenties to finish the damn thing. By the third day, I'd given it just one hour a day, progressing to two, three, and gradually working up to five.