Page 8 of The Breaking Pointe

mr. lonely

COLTON

“One, two, three! One, two, three!”

Trey yells at me as I sling jabs at the punching bag with each count.

“Let’s go, two more sets, my man!”

he shouts. I close my eyes, feeling my triceps ignite with a burning sensation.

Wailing three last hits, I throw my arms above my head to open my lungs. That wasn’t nearly enough relief for how out of breath I am.

“Why do you always do this to me?”

I huff, desperate to find a steady breathing rhythm again. I bend over, gripping my knees with my hands, watching a puddle of sweat form in front of my feet.

He laughs, almost in a maniacal manner.

“You know why, and you know you can handle it. Don’t be a bitch, Colton.”

He smirks, picking up my water bottle to hand it to me.

I stand up straight again, placing a hand on my hip and taking the water bottle with my other.

“You have the skills of a pro boxer, Colton. That last fight? You got people talking. You need to take advantage of it.”

I groan, sarcastically mouthing Trey’s words in the process.

He smiles.

“Am I wrong? If you say yes, you’re lying, and you and I both know it. How long are you gonna keep this denial up before you get tired of it?”

he asks, watching me chug the water in anguish. Finally, I finish trying to hydrate myself in time to respond, “I’m not in denial. I just think I’m not ready for that. The pros are challenging. I just wanna keep things light. Keep ‘em fun.

Why is that so bad?”

I ask, shrugging.

“Um…the problem is that you’re beyond all the other fucking rookies now,”

he laughs, “and pretty soon, someone’s gonna make you an offer. Now I know damn well you won’t pass that up.”

He raises his eyebrows, driving home his point.

I sigh, shaking my head as I walk over to my bag, picking up a face towel I’d set down earlier. Trey starts to follow me as I do so.

“Don’t sigh at me. I know what that means. Boss up, Colton. You gotta either get serious or figure something out. I can’t keep putting you in fights where you outrank everyone. I promise you, you’d be more satisfied if you were fighting in the ring with a team, and worthier opponents,”

he implores, relaxing his tone.

I cover my face with my towel, drying the sweat, but also hiding from the truth.

He isn’t wrong, and I hate that most of the time he never is.

I just like living in my fantasy.

And this fantasy entails pretending to be something I’m not.

It comes with people who claim to be fans and want me to sign outrageous things. Or nerve-racking press conferences and interviews that put me on the spot—and I don’t even want to think about a person shoving a camera in my face in public. I’m afraid to admit that shit scares me.

Letting out a deep sigh once more, I toss the towel around my neck and slowly turn around.

“Are we done? You’re starting to sound like my mother. And not the side I like.”

I let out a warm chuckle to lighten the mood. Trey stares at me for a moment, a disappointed expression plastered across his face. He nods slowly, walking over to me

before patting my back.

“Yeah. We’re done. I wish you could see your potential, Cole. You’re crazy good.”

“I hear you. It’s just something I need to consider more.”

I look at him.

“Just wait for me, I’m gonna run with you. I gotta grab some dinner before heading back home tonight,”

he says as we both walk toward his office.

I nod”

Maybe I’ll grab something, too. For once, I’m not eating at my goddamn mother’s house.”

I shake my head, thinking of how lame that sounds out loud, following him as I grab my t-shirt that was hanging from a rope around the huge ring nearby.

“Days like today can seem like such a pain in the ass to have to make my own food. But I can’t keep expecting my mother to go out of her way to feed me.”

I snicker as I lean in the doorway. He walks in and starts to collect his things, taking glances at me every so often as he talks.

“Oh, come on, you love dinner at Janice’s. She’s a beast in the kitchen.”

He cackles.

I laugh along in agreement. That was one thing I couldn’t deny about my mother. She could cook rounds around anyone who challenged her if she wanted to.

“You know, Colton, I hate to keep bringing it up, but I’m serious.”

I furrow my eyebrows as I cross my arms, watching him walk toward me, causing me to back out of the way.

“Janice is like your biggest supporter, man. I guarantee you she would be happier to watch you from a box office than anyone else,”

he says in a sincere tone, looking at me.

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

I ask, tapping my leg with a couple of fingers, slightly smiling.

Looking at me dead in the eyes, he says, “Not until you change your mind. I see more for you. I want you to see more for yourself.”

There wasn’t any response or excuse I could think of to disagree with him.

He was right, and I’m just a pussy.

If I weren’t doing this, I’d be an architectural, corporate chum with everything at his fingertips.

Exactly what I never wanted to become in the first place.

The life of a loser is the life of someone who has everything and nothing in the same breath.

Materials matter.

But only if you start from the bottom, and still, that could never amount to morals.

Always knowing and easily obtaining knowledge is boring.

And that’s just the truth of the matter.

I like having to work for things, and being bigger than I am now seems like a privileged lifestyle that can consume some men.

I couldn’t imagine my father having the wealth that I do.

It would’ve been a shit-show.

I would need to up my weight class at least three times to meet with some of the men in the pros.

It’s intimidating, but mostly, I just think I’m not a good influence.

I can’t even convince my little brother to come home on time.

Boxing is huge in the young male community, and I’m nobody that anybody’s son should want to become.

I’d rather not have screaming fans who don’t know me from a can of paint, wailing on someone in a random location to defend my honor.

Trey closes the door, locking it.

* * *

I think it might just be me, but there’s something about those foggy, damp, yet humid days that always remind me of being a kid again.

It’s like waking up extra early when you know there’s a field trip you’re going on.

Running is probably my favorite workout, beyond boxing.

It just feels so easy and timeless.

Everything is within walking distance in New York if you’re in the right place.

What I can’t seem to get my mind away from, even after clearing all my thoughts through punching different bags and pads, is Noelle.

I just want to talk to her.

I need to have more of her.

Or at least just one more night.

Something about her is just different, I can feel it.

I felt it at the club that night. Checking my phone for a sign of her attention is starting to haunt me.

As Trey and I finish our run, we walk off our last bit of trail to get to the main road again.

Perfect opportunity to get his opinion.

We’ve been walking for some time now while he’s explained a situation with some girl from the club that same night.

Something about boning her, which is usually his goal.

He’s older than me and plays the game like a well-rounded veteran, but settling down is never a topic of discussion for him.

He’s always going on about how I’m in my bachelor era. I just can’t seem to get comfortable with it.

I’ve zoned out a bit, but I’m listening selectively, of course”

Anyways, she had the fattest ass. The way she was throwing it back, bro, it was unbelievable.”

He laughs as he gestures with his hands.

“Listen, without a doubt, it sounds amazing,”

I say, shaking my head as I let out a laugh. At least one of us was getting some play.

“But?”

he asks, raising an eyebrow”

I know it’s coming.”

He chuckles.

“But it just sounds lonely to me. Not to be sappy or whatever.”

I shrug, gently patting my face with my shoulder towel.

“That sounds lonely to you?”

He begins laughing now.

I smile”

Maybe not lonely, but I guess I’m just over the whole hookup culture thing now.”

“Oh, so you wanna settle. I see,” he says.

“Well, no. Not necessarily, but I’ve slept around enough. I don’t wanna keep giving myself up like a buffet table because I wanna get my dick wet,”

I respond, the conversation becoming more serious now.

The market sign is getting closer to us and making me eager to get into some cooler air.

“So, when did you have this realization? This has to be new. You usually say the complete opposite.”

Trey snickers.

“No, it’s not. I’m just bored, T. But it’s almost like nobody my age is really on the same page. Or at least not even on a friendly level,”

I express, thinking of my desperation to talk about my recent interests.

“So, what is it? ‘Cause that sounds oddly specific. Some girl isn’t giving you the time of day or something? Is that it?” he asks.

I chuckle, scoffing at him reading me for filth.

“Yeah, you could say that. I met this girl at the club the same night. I just can’t get her out of my head. I got her number, we danced. It’s all so…cinematic.” I sigh”

I don’t know, maybe my game is weak. I was just in a three-year-long relationship not too long ago. I sent her a sweet text, but it didn’t register at all. She left me on read. It was more than humbling.”

I grab my towel by both ends, one on each side of my neck.

“Yeah, like almost more than three years ago now, Colton. And Hannah has probably lived like eight lives since then,”

he says, sighing”

Look, if you were feeling her so hard, then there’s no reason not to pursue it. Or at least try. The worst she could say is no. One text is nothing.”

I nod, staying quiet. Sure, I could pursue it. Except, what do you do with someone who doesn’t want to talk?

“I don’t wanna be desperate, either. One wrong word and she’s gonna think I’m some pervert or creep.”

I shiver just thinking about it. I have to laugh at the idea, though.

Trey smiles”

I doubt it. You’re far from a creep. Just sounds like she’s playing hard to get,” he says.

“Maybe so. And while she’s nothing short of enchanting, there is such a thing as overstepping boundaries. I don’t know if I have, or she’s just being facetious, like most women when they really are interested, you know?”

I suggest, really trying to dig deep.

Trey shakes his head as we reach the entrance to the market finally, standing on the sidewalk now.

“See, Colton, that’s your problem. You gotta stop thinking so logically about shit and just do it. You’re thinking about it all so deeply. We’re young. Don’t take it so personally.”

He smiles, chuckling.

I half smile”

I know. I just like things to go smoothly, you know that.”

“Are you sure you just don’t need to get laid one good time?”

he asks, raising his brows jokingly.

I playfully elbow him as he begins to walk again”

See, the last time I hooked up with a girl like that, she was a completely different lady when we woke up. No, thank you—I’m good.” I laugh.

Laughing at the thought, we both shake our heads.

“Who is she, anyway? Someone I know?”

He looks at me inquisitively.

“Her name is Noelle. She was at the fight. She’s a dancer, I think, with long, reddish hair. It’s kind of curly, too,” I say.

“Noelle Mayberry?” he asks.

I shrug”

Yeah…how do you know that?”

“Sheesh, Colton…”

I look at him, stiffening my face so I don’t show my curiosity for his concern.

“Uh, well, anyhow, she danced with me and then her friend took her away. She seemed in a rush,”

I say as we walk into the market.

“Just be mindful, my guy. That’s Daniel’s girl, and I hear she’s got baggage. Or she was his girl? They’re wishy-washy— either way, it’s some bullshit you don’t want parts of,”

he says, tightening up his tone of voice.

“Daniel? I beat his ass once. I doubt he wants that again. Besides, she was a free agent that night. Why else would she have done that?”

I ask, playing my words wittingly.

Trey shakes his head”

Nah. See, women don’t operate like that. She probably digs the attention. Two men who box, boxing over her? Think about it,”

he suggests.

I titter quietly under my breath, taking in his ideas.

He could be right.

Unfortunately, these are the things I’m careless about.

The only thoughts in my brain at this moment are what steps I have to take to make her mine. And trust me, I’m something of a persistent man.

We eventually decide to split up in the market, as we need different things.

As I pick through some strawberries, little conversations ensue around me.

Moms picking snacks for their kids as they beg for the latest candies and sugar-filled sweets.

Young couples thrilled to finally shop for themselves—when, little do they know, the prices are absolute hell.

Then there are other men like me, some probably single, and others aimlessly fighting their way to the end of their wives’ shopping lists or just trying to get a meal for the day.

All of this is what makes a grocery store pretty damn reassuring and wholesome to be in.

We’re all collectively just wanting the same thing.

But a voice—subtle, yet honeyed—catches my ear.

Turning my head, I gaze down the aisle I’m in, following it.

A small- framed, young woman with red hair water-falling down her back is approaching the vegetable section right next to me, sending a voice message.

This has to be a sick joke.

I nearly break my neck, snapping it back on the strawberries in front of me.

I don’t want to seem too eager to turn my head again, so I gently start to set my strawberries in my basket, glancing as inconspicuously as possible.

Which isn’t as inconspicuous as I thought.

She is invested in her shopping, though, which ultimately gets me a pass.

I didn’t need to see her entire face, because the hair said it alone.

It’s exactly who I thought it was.

Her voice is just too memorable.

Even with the blaring music and a few drinks in my system, she had an unforgettable charisma that I just couldn’t shake.

And the same, overstimulating butterflies I had that night are beginning to make a return.

Picking up an apple, I try to make myself look busy.

Really, I’m taking time to steal some more looks at her, hoping she doesn’t notice.

Her long curls bounce around as she whips her attention to different products.

Something like a gazelle if I’ve ever seen one. Not one move is distasteful or coarse. Even while shopping for food. How do you look that perfect while shopping for food?

What would I even say to her? She’s more than sure of herself, making her not easy to persuade into a nice date.

So, I can assume approaching her on a sober tip might be just as difficult.

But I’ve been rejected an embarrassing number of times in the past, so this wouldn’t be a first.

I don’t want her to give me the time of day because I persuaded her to, either. I want her to want me. For me. Not some facade.

My timing is beginning to run out. I watch as she throws some lettuce into her cart before walking into another section.

Don’t be a creep, Colton. Don’t follow her, that’s weird.

As much as my brain is thinking logically, my body is in no mood to follow suit. Slowly, I make my way behind her, now able to approach her. I have no idea what the hell I’m gonna say, yet I know I need to get her attention first. And fast.

She makes it to a shelf filled with different pasta noodles, coincidentally, reaching for a box that is a tad too high for her liking. Perfect opportunity.

I step up until I’m behind her, not hesitating to grab the box she set out for. Once I have it in hand, I drop a fixed look onto her, setting it in her cart as I half smile.

“Having a little trouble there, huh?”

I ask, trying to ease into conversation.

She vacantly looks at me, trying her hardest to examine me. For a moment it feels like she genuinely doesn’t remember me. Which would honestly suck. But that isn’t it at all.

She lets out a small breath, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Are you following me or something?”

she asks, grasping her cart as she watches me with pouted lips like she’s got a bone to pick with me.

I huff softly, still smiling. Sassy and beautiful. Right up my alley.

“Not at all,”

I reply, blatantly lying as if I wasn’t just following her”

I’m also here shopping, as one does when they need food. Just thought I would lend a hand. I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing new. Guys must be constantly trying to help you, right?”

I ask, now flashing some teeth with my grin.

She glares at me, her face noticeably reddening by the second”

What’s your motive?”

she grumbles, continuing to look at

the shelves now.

I can’t help myself from laughing a little. It’s kind of a shame she thinks that in the first place, but I can understand why. She’s stunning in every aspect possible.

“Now why do I have to have a motive? What if I just wanna talk to you?”

I ask, simmering down my voice.

She barely takes a look at me, still unimpressed with my mild effort, but she isn’t walking away. Good sign.

My smile becomes half-suppressed with my words”

You’ve been running through my mind since the night we met. And I know you didn’t give me your number for shits and giggles. So let me take you out?”

Noelle turns, this time facing me. Forced to look down at her, I watch her step closer to me, not letting up from her mean mug even for a second. I raise my eyebrows suggestively.

“Do you want something from me? Cause you can say it. We can get the rejection conversation over with now.”

She purses her lips.

“Hm.”

I look down momentarily before bringing my gaze back to her face”

I just want your time. That’s all,” I admit.

After what feels like an eternity, the sweetest smile creeps up on her face, followed by a laugh that resembles hummingbirds”

Why?”

she exhales”

If that’s all…”

she adds, returning to her shopping.

She pushes her cart, making me follow beside her. I could feel my confidence suddenly boosting with her energy change.

Catching up to her, I try to make conversation again”

Well, why not? There’s nothing wrong with casually spending time with someone, right? No motive, no plans. I mean, it seems like it’s easier to reach you in person anyhow.”

She stops walking again, turning to me as she places a hand on her hip.

My body jolts into a pause, stopping alongside her.

“Are you some sort of weird narcissist, like the rest of you boxers? Or this one of those invasive experiments those guys do at the college?”

She smiles, mockingly.

Despite her efforts to make me leave her alone, she’s just becoming more intriguing by the second. I want to try harder for her acceptance. With that smile, I know she’s playing with me.

“No, I’m actually one of the normal ones. Hope that doesn’t come as a shock.”

I smirk innocently.

She shrugs, shaking her head”

Sorry I didn’t respond. I got… busy.”

“Well do I get a pass now then, miss?”

I ask, admiring her small movements as she looks me up and down.

The pause is almost more ominous than when she saw me for the first time at the bar.

“Sure. Whatever, Colton. I see that’s my only way of getting you to leave me alone.”

She shakes her head, half smiling.

One point, Colton Kennedy.

I throw my hand to the back of my neck, rubbing it in embar- rassment, smiling idiotically.

“So, when can I see you again, then? If you let me take you out, one time, I promise you never have to talk to me again.”

I raise a brow, hoping for a more forward response this time.

She shakes some hair out of her face, nodding”

Deal. One time.”

I could feel my stomach in my ass at this point”

Amazing. Are you free tomorrow, maybe?” I ask.

“T-Tomorrow?”

she stammers.

“Tomorrow. The sooner the better, right?”

I smile. She blinks quickly, possibly thinking of a response.

“Luckily for you, I’m off tomorrow,”

she says, crossing her arms.

I think for a moment, but not long, immediately finding an idea.

“Ten, tomorrow. Wear something casual.”

I smile, slightly tugging at my bottom lip with my teeth.

“Ten. Not at night, I hope…”

she asks softly, staring at me aimlessly.

“Ten. Like in the morning,”

I assure her, nodding with a charming grin.

“Okay,”

she agrees sweetly.

I can feel the silence become tension filled. Her eyes lock on me, big, magnetic and emerald. Eyelashes as wispy as ever. I wish I could stare at them all day and never have to look away so I wouldn’t miss a second.

I lick my lips, shaking my head. More like shaking all the thoughts out. I could feel my heart beating like I’m seventeen again. Nervous as a service, but not a care in the world”

I’ll call you then?”

I ask, almost whispering.

She nods, slowly, almost as if she’s still unsure about her decision.

“Okay. I’ll see you,”

I add, slowly backing away.

“Bye.”

Her small fingers send me a wave, reminiscent of a princess, before turning and walking off.

My lips produce a smile that feels bigger than my face can fit.

Walking away, I make my way through the aisles, forgetting my actual reasoning for coming here in the first place.

Without noticing, consumed in my own world, I nearly run over a person, bumping into them almost instantly as I turn the corner to exit the aisle.

Trey.

“Bro, where did you go? You disappeared for the longest time,”

he says, sounding frustrated.

He looks in my basket to see two items. The strawberries and the apple.

I couldn’t stop grinning while looking at him”

Chill out, I found what I needed.”

He looks in my basket again, this time with a laugh”

You only have two things. And it’s not enough for a meal.”

I shake my head”

Trust me, Trey. I got what I needed.”

I pat his shoulder.

“Alright then, buddy. Let’s bust a move.”

He chuckles, confused but supportive.

We begin to make our way to check out, me still grinning at my actions.

“You’re so strange,”

he says. If only he knew.