Read Online On the Ropes (Down for the Count) by Christa Cervone - Free Book Online
Authors: Christa Cervone
Tags: Contemporary
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Ali
As my fight gets closer, the training gets more intense. I only have ten more days until the fight and Frankie has me training anywhere from four to six hours a day. Most mornings, I run to the gym to get my heart rate up, then I’m shadow-boxing, and hitting the bags until our “before school program” begins at seven a.m.
Shortly after the kids arrive, I make sure all of their homework is ready to go while Frankie serves them a small, healthy breakfast. After breakfast, I walk them to school. I do my best to try to make our walks to school as fun as possible since the majority of the kids dread going. It doesn’t help that most of their parents aren’t positive influences on them. They couldn’t care less if their kids even go to school. That’s part of what makes Frankie’s program so unique; he tries to instill in them how important school is. So, if the kids want to attend his program, they must attend school.
“Saint? Can we race today?” Jayden asks.
We race, we play “Eye Spy,” and occasionally, I quiz them on American History; which had been my favorite subject back when I was in school. To this day, whenever I find some down time, I watch the History Channel. I especially love the Revolutionary War. Being from Massachusetts, our state is rich in history dating back before the Pilgrims and Plymouth Rock, so it’s always been interesting to me. But, of course, the kids’ favorite thing to do is race.
“Oh, you wanna race, do ya? I’m thinking we should talk about The Battle of Bunker Hill today.”
“Awww…” they all groan in disappointment.
I look back at them, smiling. “What? The Battle of Bunker Hill is fascinating.”
“About as fascinating as watchin’ paint dry,” Tyler says quietly.
The other kids laugh at his comment.
“What’d you say?” I grab Tyler in a head lock. “You like watchin’ paint dry?”
All the kids begin to laugh and cheer me on, “Choke him out, Saint!”
Tyler taps my arm, meaning to break the hold I have on him.
“You’re giving up, punk,” I laugh, letting him go.
Tyler looks up at me with a huge smile on his face.
“Okay… where were we? Oh… that’s right, The Battle of Bunker Hill. When did the war start?” I ask, directing my question at Tyler.
“Ummm… hmmm… 1492?”
Some of the kids snicker.
“That was Christopher Columbus, dumbass!” Antonio blurts out.
“Shut up, asshole!” Tyler sneers at Antonio.
“Who you calling an asshole?” Antonio says loudly and shoves Tyler down onto the ground.
“Hey! Cool it,” I step in-between the two of them. “You okay, Tyler?”
“Get up, you pussy!” Antonio shouts. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“Antonio, that’s enough!” I raise my voice to him. Antonio’s face drops at my tone. I’ve never raised my voice to any of the kids in the program. Knowing what it’s like to live in an abusive home, I try my best to keep my composure around them. Throughout the years, I’ve learned to take my anger out in the ring and not on others. That’s one of the key components to Frankie’s program and another one of his rules: Fighting only occurs in the ring. If you get caught fighting outside of the ring, you’re thrown out of the program.
I hold my hand out to Tyler to help him off the ground, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he pushes my hand away; embarrassed.
I pull Antonio to the side, “You know if Frankie hears about this you’re gone, right?”
He nods his head, his chest heaving and his face still flushed with anger.
“I’m not gonna tell him about this, but if it happens again, I’ll have no choice. Do you understand?”
Antonio just stands there glaring at me.
“Do you understand?” I say, forcefully.
“Yes,” he mutters under his breath as he nervously shuffles his feet back and forth.
“I want you to apologize to Tyler, you were totally out of line.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Antonio groans.
Ignoring him, I
As my fight gets closer, the training gets more intense. I only have ten more days until the fight and Frankie has me training anywhere from four to six hours a day. Most mornings, I run to the gym to get my heart rate up, then I’m shadow-boxing, and hitting the bags until our “before school program” begins at seven a.m.
Shortly after the kids arrive, I make sure all of their homework is ready to go while Frankie serves them a small, healthy breakfast. After breakfast, I walk them to school. I do my best to try to make our walks to school as fun as possible since the majority of the kids dread going. It doesn’t help that most of their parents aren’t positive influences on them. They couldn’t care less if their kids even go to school. That’s part of what makes Frankie’s program so unique; he tries to instill in them how important school is. So, if the kids want to attend his program, they must attend school.
“Saint? Can we race today?” Jayden asks.
We race, we play “Eye Spy,” and occasionally, I quiz them on American History; which had been my favorite subject back when I was in school. To this day, whenever I find some down time, I watch the History Channel. I especially love the Revolutionary War. Being from Massachusetts, our state is rich in history dating back before the Pilgrims and Plymouth Rock, so it’s always been interesting to me. But, of course, the kids’ favorite thing to do is race.
“Oh, you wanna race, do ya? I’m thinking we should talk about The Battle of Bunker Hill today.”
“Awww…” they all groan in disappointment.
I look back at them, smiling. “What? The Battle of Bunker Hill is fascinating.”
“About as fascinating as watchin’ paint dry,” Tyler says quietly.
The other kids laugh at his comment.
“What’d you say?” I grab Tyler in a head lock. “You like watchin’ paint dry?”
All the kids begin to laugh and cheer me on, “Choke him out, Saint!”
Tyler taps my arm, meaning to break the hold I have on him.
“You’re giving up, punk,” I laugh, letting him go.
Tyler looks up at me with a huge smile on his face.
“Okay… where were we? Oh… that’s right, The Battle of Bunker Hill. When did the war start?” I ask, directing my question at Tyler.
“Ummm… hmmm… 1492?”
Some of the kids snicker.
“That was Christopher Columbus, dumbass!” Antonio blurts out.
“Shut up, asshole!” Tyler sneers at Antonio.
“Who you calling an asshole?” Antonio says loudly and shoves Tyler down onto the ground.
“Hey! Cool it,” I step in-between the two of them. “You okay, Tyler?”
“Get up, you pussy!” Antonio shouts. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“Antonio, that’s enough!” I raise my voice to him. Antonio’s face drops at my tone. I’ve never raised my voice to any of the kids in the program. Knowing what it’s like to live in an abusive home, I try my best to keep my composure around them. Throughout the years, I’ve learned to take my anger out in the ring and not on others. That’s one of the key components to Frankie’s program and another one of his rules: Fighting only occurs in the ring. If you get caught fighting outside of the ring, you’re thrown out of the program.
I hold my hand out to Tyler to help him off the ground, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he pushes my hand away; embarrassed.
I pull Antonio to the side, “You know if Frankie hears about this you’re gone, right?”
He nods his head, his chest heaving and his face still flushed with anger.
“I’m not gonna tell him about this, but if it happens again, I’ll have no choice. Do you understand?”
Antonio just stands there glaring at me.
“Do you understand?” I say, forcefully.
“Yes,” he mutters under his breath as he nervously shuffles his feet back and forth.
“I want you to apologize to Tyler, you were totally out of line.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Antonio groans.
Ignoring him, I
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