Hector would’ve given anything at that moment yesterday to be able to go back in time and slam A.J and Theo’s faces into the lockers a few times in high school. If he had, he would’ve been able to live with the guilt of kissing Charlee in front of Walter. It was the only thing that had stopped him yesterday.

After he’d finally made some major progress in alleviating his damn guilty conscience, Hector wasn’t about to take a giant leap backwards. Even feeling as bad as he’d felt all this time about not sticking up for Walter in high school, he was now certain if Walter hadn’t shown up at the gym Wednesday night he would’ve gone for a taste of Charlee’s lips anyway. Not only was the guilt still alive and well but Walter was beginning to feel like a real friend now. He’d gotten to know Walter a little better, and as big a goofball as the guy was, he was actually a really nice guy with a giant heart.

On top of being a full-time student and all the time he put into both the school and the U.S chess teams, Walter also volunteered several days out of the week at the convalescent home where his grandfather lived. He said there were a couple of old guys down there he played chess with regularly; he even invited Hector to down there with him sometime. Walter told him he’d be surprised how good it would make him feel to make someone’s day just by spending a little time with them. Hector didn’t doubt it one bit because he’d felt good seeing the hope in Walter’s face when Hector assured him he could help him get in shape. Remembering what a nice guy Walt was yesterday when Hector had been so close to kissing Charlee was bad enough.

But worst of all, Hector now knew just how bad Walter had it for Charlee. Walter had told him all about it as Hector worked him out. This was going to be tough, but the fact of the matter was Hector could have just about any girl he wanted. It was only fair. If he wanted to do the right thing by Walter, this time he’d have to stay away from the only girl that would mean betraying his new friend.

“What the hell are you doing?” Abel asked from the side of the ring.

“I got this,” Gio said as he applied the Vaseline over Hector’s brows.

“Yeah, he’s okay.” Noah said, squirting water into Hector’s mouth. “He still has a few rounds left. He just has to win them.”

“Are you kidding me?” Abel glared at Noah then turned back to Hector. “Listen to me, Hector. You need to get your head out of your ass and knock this guy out. If this thing goes to judges, you’d be lucky if they call it a draw. Guzman took those first three rounds, and if you keep fighting like that, you’re gonna lose the whole damn thing.”

Gio, who was his actual trainer, started in on him with what he’d done wrong in the last round and what he needed to do in the next. “Use your speed, man. What’s wrong with you? You’re way faster than this guy. Guzman ain’t got shit on your speed.”

Hector closed his eyes but only for a moment because in the next one the bell rang. “Drop him, Hector,” Abel said even louder. “Stop wasting time.”

Jumping in place now as he waited for the go-ahead from the ref, he eyed Guzman. Gio was right. Hector was way faster than this guy. He’d watched film of the guy’s previous fights and was pretty sure he had his weaknesses down.

The ref gave the go-ahead, and both he and Guzman took a few steps toward each other.

“Pick ’em up, Hector!” Gio yelled.

Hector lifted his gloves a few inches to shield his face. Gio must not have watched as much film on this guy as Hector had. Guzman went for the body way more often than the face.

Even thinking about watching film on his opponent brought back thoughts of Charlee and how closely she must’ve studied his game. Her words came back to him just then. “I didn’t mean anything personal by it.” Bullshit!

Hector landed a hard hit to Guzman’s eye, splitting the skin just under it and prompting to the crowd to jump to its feet going wild. As much as they all tried to assure the fighters that signed up for bouts here that they’d be on neutral ground, fighting in your own gym inevitably made you the favorite.

Just like Hector’s weak spot, his right eyebrow that had been split enough times that now any good hit to it would have it split and bleeding, this was Guzman’s weak spot. Every one of the fights the guy had been in, where it had been stopped because of an injury, it had been because of that gash.

Before Guzman could recover, Hector landed another fast one on that same eye. Maybe it did pay to study your opponent so closely.

Feeling his insides heat just as they had yesterday when he’d realized what Charlee had done, he landed another then an even faster and harder one. If it weren’t for the ropes, Guzman would’ve gone down. The crowd was going wild, chanting and jumping up and down. Hector couldn’t help thinking this was probably what the rest of his chess teammates must’ve been feeling inwardly as they watched Charlee take him down.

Clenching his teeth so hard he thought he might bite through his mouthpiece, Hector went in for the kill. Check-motherfucking-mate!

The last jab was so hard it sent Guzman crashing onto the floor. The ref jumped in between them, pushing Hector toward his corner, and started the countdown.

Guzman wasn’t getting up. This was a done deal.

“Hell yeah, Hector! Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Gio pulled the mouthpiece out of Hector’s mouth and Noah began squirting water into it.

Hector gulped the water as he tried to catch his breath and glanced around the loud and crazed crowd. He nearly choked when he saw it. It stood out like a flame in the sea of dark hair and pumping fists—Charlee’s red flowing hair. Hector coughed uncontrollably as the water Noah had squirted in his mouth went down the wrong pipe.