chapter nine | WEIGH-IN

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"What ya think?" Skip asked as he joined Smitty and Rylee in the hallway.

Smitty bit his bottom lip and glanced over at Rylee. "Can you give us a moment?"

Rylee nodded his head and obediently hid himself in the background while the older gentlemen conversed between one another.

"Bare knuckle fightin'. You think he can do it?" Smitty inquired. "He's up against your other young fighter, Ian Browne."

"Don't sound so worried. He can handle it." Skip's voice was confident and he wasn't going to expect anything less than what he had briefly taught Rylee.

"You know he's a welterweight and Ian's a middleweight. It's not fair, Skipper," Smitty said in a warbled whisper. He looked over his shoulder at Rylee, who was standing rather submissively in the shadows.

"Trust me," Skip said, giving Smitty a confident stare. "Here, Rylee, take your jacket off. Smitty's got your shoes."

Shaking all over, Rylee looked his trainer dead in the eyes and said in a low tone, "I can't. My hands haven't healed and--,"

Skip lightly boxed Rylee's ear just enough to get the boy's attention. "You said you won't be making excuses. Now is the time to put the real battle behind and be something more. You're not at school and you're not at home. Stop being afraid. Trust me, " Skip's voice echoed. "Just fight. I've trained Ian and he'll teach you nicely without laying you out on the first round. Now, go on."

"Alright" Rylee replied, looking around at the gathering spectators. The ring was lit under a large flickering light and the other boy was already talking to his friends on the other side of the ropes. He looked really comfortable in the ring, making Rylee feel even more out of place. What looked like a daily task to his opponent, Rylee saw it as a gladiator fight. "You know, believe it or not, Mum would've wanted to go to one of these," Rylee remarked.

Skip froze for a second at the thought of Raelynn McCormick. There was an awkward silence between the two that Rylee hadn't seen him slip into so easily.

"Skip?" Rylee interrupted. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Anyway, go on." He gave Rylee a firm clap on the shoulder, sending him on his way.

In stiff steps, Rylee walked between the parting crowd made up of large men and barely dressed women. He heard some people commenting on his height, but that was the least of his worries. With his breath coming out in short, noticeable gasps, he walked up a few steps and ducked under the ropes.

Ian Browne was about a few centimetres taller than Rylee and a middleweight. He had tawny straw hair that fell in front of his naturally serious expression and he looked as if he had done this dozens of times before by the way he held himself in a casual, non-aggressive stance. His frame was taught and rippled with muscles and veins. He may not have boxed as much as Smitty had said, but he seemed to keep up with his physique.

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