Knocked Out

The large speakers pulsed to the beat of the heavy bass line, short, choppy techno beats filling the air. A man was yelling; talking very fast to the beat of the music, his angry voice spinning stories of the place where he was from; where children got shot in the streets and people were mugged on a daily basis.

Karie had never liked rap music; but she could tolerate it; its catchy beats and enthralling baselines persuading her and her clients to push themselves to new levels. It was a useful business tool, even if it occasionally gave her ear splitting headaches.

Karie owned her own boxing studio; it had opened about a month ago, and was doing fantastic. Karie had never been a fighter in school; she had always preferred the ‘hey, let’s talk this shit out’ method, and if that didn’t work, ignoring the person in question would always suffice. But in her senior year, a friend of hers had taken her along to her boxing class, and Karie was hooked.

Not only was it an unbelievable workout, but it also gave Karie a sense of empowerment. She no longer carried a small can of pepper spray in her purse when she went out; she was confident in her ability to defend herself. Countless boxing trainers had always told Karie that she should go pro; enter herself in competitions, but she always politely denied their requests. Karie liked her face the way it was; she had seen all of the female professional boxers and the ways that one eye was always slightly swollen shut, how their noses were pushed into their faces because of how many times the delicate cartilage had been smashed by an opponent’s fist.

Karie had continued with her boxing throughout the summer, still unsure with what she wanted to do with her life. While the rest of her friends were packing up the contents of their rooms and moving them into university dorms, Karie spent her waking hours in the studio, her tanned hands encased in bright blue wraps.

Her parents told her countless times that she needed to get her shit together; she was 18 for god’s sake, she was an adult! She had to decide what she wanted to do; and she had to decide now.

Karie was stuck; she had no idea where she wanted her life to go from here. For days Karie struggled to make up her mind. Maybe she should take an accounting class at her local community college- that was a solid profession right?

Too bad Karie had no desire to be an accountant.

The answer came to Karie in the form of a fly away paper. She was walking to the boxing studio one day when the wind blew the plain white piece of paper to her leg, sticking to her dark wash denim jeans like glue. She tugged it off deftly; prepared to throw it into the nearest trash bin when it’s big, black letters caught her eye.

Are you into fitness? Do you want to help others achieve the same healthy lifestyle that you have acquired? Personal training might be the profession for you!
Karie rushed home, deciding to skip her boxing lesson for today. As soon as she arrived at her house, she thrust the stray pamphlet into her mother’s face, a dazzling smile adorning her features. Her parents were more than hesitant to let their child peruse a career in personal training but after some skilful persuasion on Karie’s part, they agreed and supported their child and her choice for her future.

And they couldn’t be more proud.

After graduating college, Karie had moved out to L.A where on several loans, she opened up her own boxing studio. Business was great; there were lots of wannabe starlets wandering around California, wanting to have the perfect body in order to land the roles of their dreams; many of them turned to recreational boxing.

So here Karie stood; her long, wavy, burgundy hair tied up in a loose ponytail, her dark brown eyes staring sleepily at the front door; her 5’8 toned build leaning lazily against the mirrored wall, waiting patiently for her next two clients to arrive.

For the next three hours Karie had two new clients to introduce to the wonderful world of boxing. Suddenly Karie heard the sound of tires hitting asphalt and car doors slamming hurriedly. The bright blue door of her studio burst open and two young men hurried in, a black gym bag slung over the shoulder of one.

“Jack B and Zack M?” Karie guessed, walking over to the front desk and grabbing the registration forms that hung on a clipboard attached to the wall.

“Sorry we’re late.” One replied, brushing a strand of curly, light brown hair out of his warm brown eyes, “This idiot didn’t take directions.” He shoved the other boy; his skinny frame stumbling as his well muscled friend pushed him.
“No worries boys,” Karie smiled, her natural outgoing nature shining through. “I just need you guys to fill out these liability forms and then we can start the lesson.” She handed the boys the clipboard and a red sparkly pen.

“Liability?” The skinnier one gulped, his black brown eyes widening, “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Karie said, prepared to answer his question, it was one she got a lot, “All though in the beginning you guys won’t be sparring with each other, accidents can happen. Boxing is a contact sport. Those forms just say that if you do get hurt, that my studio isn’t responsible.” She gave the tall boy a comforting smile as his face paled, his lips set in a hard line. “But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

“Boxing?” He repeated, “This is a boxing studio?”

“Uh, yeah.” Karie rubbed the back of her neck in confusion, walking over to her computer and pulling up the days schedule, “You boys are Zackary Merrick and Jack Barakat, right?”

“That’s us.” The taller boy said hesitantly.

“Well then one Zack Merrick called four weeks ago to sign you two up for a seven week course in boxing; including a membership to our gym.” Karie explained.

“You did what?” Hissed the tall boy, turning on the one with the curly hair. He held his hands up in defence.

“It’s for your own good?” He tried, looking at his mildly pissed off friend with apologetic eyes, “I mean, look at you Jack, you’re like, 90 pounds! What if you get mugged or something, you have to learn how to defend yourself.”

“It’s fun.” Karie tried, giving both boys a hesitant smile, “Hard work, sure, but it can be fun.”

“See?” Zack said to Jack, sending an encouraging smile to his more than uncertain friend. “Fun.”

“Yeah right,” Jack said, his eyes scanning the form as he signed his name quickly at the bottom, “Buckets and buckets of fun.”

The boys handed Karie back their now signed liability forms and dragged their feet over to the workout mat in the middle of the studio. Karie hung the forms preventing them from suing her on the wall and made her way over to them, an excited bounce in her step.

“All right boys.” Karie grinned, “Why don’t you grab a skip rope from the hook and warm up for five minutes.”

“When’s the instructor coming?” Jack asked, his gangly legs getting caught up in the long, weighted skip rope. Karie grinned a bit, crossing her arms in front of her chest, the slight muscles on her arms showing.

“I am the instructor.” She laughed, sticking her tanned hand out for him to shake, “The name’s Karie.”

“Jack.” The lanky boy introduced himself, his hand cold and clammy, “And that’s Zack. A little shy at first, don’t mind him. Personally I think he’s more beef than brains.” Jack shot his blushing friend a cheeky grin.

“Hey!” Zack protested, his skip rope tangling up under his ratty workout shoes.

Karie just laughed and set the large timer on the wall for five minutes. “Come on boys,” She grinned, nodding at them to start skipping. “Five minutes. That’s an easy workout. Come on, hop to it.” She pressed the start button and the timer started ticking away.

Both boys started skipping, Jack complaining playfully all the way and Zack with slight smile on his face. When the buzzer finally signalled the end of the five minutes, Jack cried out in relief, throwing the skip rope down and sinking to his knees; a sheen of sweat covering his face.

Zack just shook his head at his melodramatic friend and hung his rope back at the wall.

“All right,” Karie sighed, throwing the pair a set of black wraps, “Put these on and we’ll get started.”

“Uh, what are these exactly?” Zack asked quietly, unrolling the metre and a half of black fabric, looking at his curiously.

“They protect your knuckles from something called a boxers fracture.” Karie explained, unwrapping her own electric blue hand wraps, prepared to show both boys how to do it properly.

Jack got his wrapped correctly on the first go; all though it was a bit sloppy, but Zack had a lot more trouble.

“Here.” Karie said, grabbing his hand, flipping his hand over and looping the circle of the wrap’s end around his thumb. “See?” She explained carefully, wrapping the scratchy material of the boxing wraps around Zack’s warm left hand, looping it three times around the wrist, three times around his thumb and palm and then weaving it gently in between his fingers. “There.” She said as she Velcroed the end in place. “Now do the other one.” Karie was all too aware of how her fingers lingered a second too long on Zack’s up turned palm. She snatched her hand away, embarrassed.

“THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” Jack exploded, a childish grin adorning his face. Karie grinned, her momentary lapse in judgment with Zack forgotten.

“All right.” Karie said, turning to her new students. “Let’s get cracking.”

***

Over the next three hours Karie worked the boys like dogs; teaching them the basic boxing moves and throwing in several conditioning exercises here and there. By the end Jack was panting like an asthmatic and Zack looked exhausted, his gray shirt soaked with sweat. A proud smile was stretching onto his lips though, his brown eyes sparkling.

“Good job guys.” Karie said, throwing them both water bottles. “Will I be seeing you boys next week?”

“Fuck no!” Jack cried, his chest still heaving. “I mean, no offence Karie, but I feel like death right now. No way am I going through that again.”

Zack grinned at his friend, looping Jack’s skinny arm around his shoulder and hoisting him upwards, “I’ll be back if that’s okay.” Zack said quietly, “I had a good workout.”

“Great.” Karie grinned, tugging her long hair out from its ponytail and shaking it out. “Well Jack, nice meeting you, and see you next week Zack.” Karie waved them off as they exited her studio.

***

True to his word, Zack returned week after week, his boxing skills improving with each lesson. He was quiet, but a fast learner.

“Come on.” Karie taunted Zack one day, her fists encased in dark boxing gloves, “Hit me.”

“What?” Zack said, his hands by his temples in boxers stance, “I can’t hit you, you’re a girl.” It was about a year after Zack had started his now private lessons, and the duo had moved on to sparring.

“You won’t land a hit.” Karie teased, shuffling around Zack, hoping to get him riled enough to hit her. Her left fist darted out and knocked Zack squarely in the left cheek. He reeled backwards, shock etched onto his face.

“Come on.” Karie repeated, “Hit me.”

Zack took a deep breath and raised his hands again, a look of determination present in his eyes. His right hand shot out in a cross and Karie dodged it easily, catching his stomach in a powerful hook.

“You’ll have to better than that if you want to land a hit.” Karie grinned, circling around Zach. She ignored the fact that Zack’s skin glowed with a slight sheen of sweat, how the curls of his hair bounced up and down with every shot he took...

She outstretched her right hand in an attempt to catch Zack’s jaw in an uppercut, but she was too distracted and over shot it, her fist barely glancing his chin as she lost her balance. Zack took this as his chance to aim a half hearted punch at Karie’s collarbone, causing her to topple over, falling forwards onto Zack; taking him down with her.

“Ow! Fuck!” She exclaimed as they hit the ground of the ring, Karie’s ankle twisting painfully under her. “Sorry.” She added quickly, trying to hop off Zack, who she was straddling awkwardly. As soon as Karie put the smallest amount of weight on her ankle it buckled, sending her crashing downwards again onto Zack.

“Shit,” She cursed, ripping off her boxing gloves; Zack doing the same. “I’m sorry dude, but can you help me up?” She grinned sheepishly.

Zack just started at her, his mouth tugging upwards in a small smile. Karie’s hands were placed delicately on his chest, her hair free from her ponytail.

He had no idea what came over him.

He had never been that foreword before.

But there he was, placing his sweaty hands on the sides of Karie’s face, gently pulling her surprised face towards his. Their lips met hesitantly; slowly. Karie’s hands slid around Zack’s neck, pressing herself closer to him. His hands roamed her upper body freely; all former shyness gone.

They both broke away panting heavily; eyes slightly crazed from their previous activates.

“Shit.” Zack gasped, “I’m sorry Karie, I didn’t mean too-”

“Shut up Zack.” Karie laughed, pressing her lips eagerly to his again, shivers climbing up her spinal cord as his hands trailed up her sides. The pair broke apart again; red colouring their cheeks. “Don’t be sorry.” Karie grinned, trailing her finger down Zack’s cheek. “Cause I’m certainly not.”