Let's Spar

Chapter 15 - Challenge

Mike pushed open the gym doors and stepped inside. The air was thick with the smell of leather and sweat as boxers filled the training floor, some shadowboxing near the mirrors while others worked the heavy bags. Gloves cracked against focus pads, their rhythm blending with the low murmur of voices.

Mike's eyes swept across the gym and stopped at the center ring.

Sam stood with Claire at his side while three guys crowded around him, laughing a little too hard at whatever he had just said.

Claire's eyes found Mike. She paused, then folded her arms.

"So they really let you in."

Sam turned and let out a short laugh.

"A wild card." He shook his head. "I guess the standards have dropped this year."

Claire folded her arms and kept her eyes on Mike. "Must be nice getting handed things you didn't earn."

The guys behind him traded amused looks.

"Let's see how long that confidence lasts."

Mike walked past them without slowing down. He set his bag on the floor, picked up his hand wraps, and started wrapping his knuckles. Their voices followed him across the gym, but he didn't even look up. He had heard worse. None of it mattered anymore.

Mike finished the last loop around his wrist and tightened the wrap.

The chatter around the gym slowly picked up again. Gloves hit the bags, a few pairs climbed into the ring, and Sam finally lost interest when Mike refused to react.

Then the side door opened.

Coach Darren walked in with a clipboard tucked under one arm. His eyes swept across the gym, and the room fell quiet.

"Everyone in the center."

One by one, the boxers drifted toward the center of the gym. Mike pulled off his gloves, set them on top of his bag, and joined the group while Sam and the others took their time walking over.

Coach Darren waited until the last boxer joined the circle. He glanced around the room, making sure he had everyone's attention, then rested the clipboard against his side.

"I've got an announcement."

The low chatter faded.

"I already sent the official notice this morning, but I want everyone to hear it from me."

His gaze settled on Mike for a brief moment before returning to the group.

"Mike has been selected as S-University's wild card entry for the Amateur Cup. He'll be representing the university this year."

For a second, nobody said a word.

A few boxers frowned. Others quietly exchanged looks, while several turned toward Mike as if seeing him for the first time.

Author: They are on a turning streak these days.

Sam stood frozen.

The grin on his face disappeared, replaced by a hard stare.

"That's bullshit."

His voice echoed through the gym.

"I recommended Ryan for that spot weeks ago." He looked straight at Coach Darren. "He's got better results, more fights, and more experience. So why does a first-year get the wild card?"

No one spoke.

Even Claire stayed quiet.

Coach Darren didn't answer right away. He studied Sam for a long moment before speaking.

"You've got a problem with my decision?"

Sam held his ground.

Coach Darren's voice stayed calm.

"I don't explain my decisions to every guy who disagrees with them." He held Sam's gaze. "You're more worried about who got the wild card than fixing the holes in your own game."

The words hung in the air.

"I see everything that happens in this gym." His eyes flicked toward Claire for the briefest moment before returning to Sam. "If you spent half as much time training as you do following certain people around campus, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

The gym fell silent.

"If you still think my judgment is wrong, my office is open after practice. Until then, get back to acting like a boxer."

Sam opened his mouth again, but Mike spoke first.

"It's fine, Coach." Mike stepped forward a little so everyone could see him clearly. "If they think the choice is wrong, we can settle it the simple way. Let me spar the guy, right now. If he beats me, give him the spot."

The gym fell quiet.

Sam kept his eyes on Mike for a long moment before a slow smile spread across his face.

"So that's how it is."

He turned to the boxer beside him.

"Ryan."

The broad-shouldered senior looked over.

"You've been asking for a chance to spar, haven't you?"

Ryan rolled his shoulders.

"I have."

Sam looked back at Coach Darren.

"Then let him have the first round. If Mike wants to prove he deserves that wild card, this is the perfect chance."

Every eye in the gym shifted to Coach Darren.

He looked from Sam to Ryan, then finally to Mike. After a long moment, he gave a small nod.

Coach Darren looked at Ryan first, then at Mike.

"Fine."

His voice was quiet, but the entire gym fell still.

"One round. Light contact only." His eyes lingered on Sam before moving back to the two boxers. "The second I see anyone treating this like a grudge match, it's over."

No one said a word.

"And if either of you ignores me, you'll both spend the next month cleaning this gym instead of training."

He pointed toward the ring.

"Gloves on. Move."

Ryan walked toward the equipment rack without a hint of hesitation. As he passed, Sam gave him a firm pat on the back and leaned in to say something that brought quiet smiles to the two boxers standing beside him. A few steps away, Claire folded her arms and watched it all with quiet interest.

Mike walked back to his bag, pulled out his gloves, and tightened the straps around his wrists. A faint smile crept onto his face as the insults from earlier echoed in his mind. Claire's mocking voice, Sam's sneer, and the laughter that followed had stayed with him, but instead of arguing back, he now had a much better way to answer them.

Mike climbed through the ropes and stepped into the center of the ring. Across from him, Ryan rolled his shoulders, bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, and wore the easy smile of someone who already believed the fight was over. Coach Darren took his place at ringside with a towel draped over one shoulder and a whistle in his hand, his eyes moving between the two fighters.

Mike raised his gloves, settled into his stance, and the faint smile never left his face.

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