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beside me and hands me a glass of Jack. I really do appreciate the friendship we’ve formed. I just need to cry and have a stiff drink, not a conversation.
    Finally breaking the silence after what’s probably been about thirty minutes, she looks over at me. “You working tomorrow night?” she says and then stands up.
    I shake my head, wiping tears. “No.”
    “Okay, well you have plans with me now,” she says flatly.
    “Liz, I can’t, my mom-.”
    She puts a hand up and stops me. “Your mom and your aunt will be fine. You’ve been dealt a shitty hand lately and I’m going to take you somewhere to take your mind off of it.” Before I can get another word out, she walks out the door, closing it behind her.

 
    CHAPTER 6

    HUCK
    Punch, stick, jab. Breathe. Punch, stick, jab. Breathe. Duck, punch, stick, jab. Breathe. Weave, punch, stick, jab.
    I repeat these phrases over and over in my head as I practice in front of the mirror. I always do this before a fight to prepare myself. Fighters are just like any other kind of athlete - we’re a little superstitious. Everything has to be the same before every fight.
    The locker room door opens and Elizabeth sticks her head in. “You decent?”
    “Yeah, come in,” I grumble out and start trying to tape my hands.
    She walks straight over and starts helping me tape them. “So how are things going?”
    I raise an eyebrow and look at her like she’s lost it. “What do you want? You never ask how things are going. You’re up to something,” I say pointedly.
    “I brought someone to the fight tonight,” she says nervously.
    “Like a date?” I stop her taping and look at her in the eyes.
    “No. Not a date, but it is a girl.”
    We start taping my other hand. “So who is it? What’s the big deal?”
    “It’s Chelsea. I don’t know the whole story between you two, but I know there is one.” I stand up quickly and she jumps back but quickly regains her composure. “Look, she’s an emotionless wreck right now. Last night was her first night back at work and she just seems empty. She lost it for a few minutes backstage but other than that, it’s like she’s a walking zombie. I talked to her while she was off, but it just seems to be getting worse rather than better. I was hoping seeing you tonight, seeing you fight, would bring out some kind of emotion from her.”
    I exhale loudly. “Fine.” I turn back to the mirror and watch Liz in the reflection. “She went back to the club to work?” I say quietly.
    “Yeah, she hasn’t told me why, but I know firsthand how expensive cancer is,” she says solemnly. “I’ve been around strippers for five years now. I know the different reasons they do what they do. I like the freedom and the money. Some just like the attention. Some do it because they have no other choice and need the income it brings. Chelsea has no other choice and needs the money it brings. My guess if it was just her she was worried about, she wouldn’t be doing it.” She turns, walking out of the locker room.
    I stare at myself in the mirror. I wanted to call her so many times over the past few weeks, I just couldn’t. I’m never going to be the kind of guy she deserves. She and I were something a long time ago. Something…I’m not exactly sure what we were.
    Walking into the school library, I see a mousy blonde with glasses waiting at a table. She must be my new tutor. The last guy they gave me pissed me off and I nearly beat his ass. If he hadn’t started crying and almost pissed his pants, I would have. In all fairness, though, I wouldn’t have threatened to beat his ass if he hadn’t called me low-life fighter, street trash.
    She looks up nervously, “Huckleberry Webb?” She sticks her hand out, “I’m Chelsea Harmon.”
    I take her small hand. “No one calls me that. I’m Huck,” I say strongly.
    “Oh, um, okay,” she says timidly, pulling her hand back. Looking down at her notes, I hear her mumble, “Sorry.” She shuffles