Free Brawler by Tracey Ward Page A

over me. It made me smile to picture it.
    That was so lame. You win today. Hands down.
    You made it too easy. Bring your A game tomorrow.
    No school 2morrow
    “Oh, hell no,” I muttered, typing quickly. No text speak! Full words, full sentences. This isn’t Twitter and you’re not a Kardashian, so don’t type like one.
    A Kardashian walks into a bar…
    I waited patiently for the punchline, hoping she actually had one. She didn’t disappoint me. She never did.
    And walks out pregnant, she finished.
    I chuckled at my phone. And Jenna Monroe closes the round with a one-two knockout punch.
    Thank you. Thank you. You’re still the gold medalist in today’s Lame Joke Olympics, though.
    Damn straight.
    What do you want for your winnings?
    What do I always want?
    Burritos.
    I frowned, surprised she was wrong. Enchiladas, I corrected.
    *eye roll* You do this every time.
    Do what?
    Forget what food you like. You don’t like enchiladas, you like burritos.
    Bullshit.
    Bull nothing, it’s true!
    Enchiladas. I insisted.
    Burritos.
    Enchiladas.
    You’re hopeless. You’ll eat what I make you and you’ll love it.
    That was true so I let it slide.
    “Yo, Coulter!” Callum shouted from the parking lot. “Shake a leg, bitch! Let’s move!”
    I slid down off the picnic table I’d been sitting on, typing Jenna a quick goodbye as I headed for Callum’s truck.
    Gym. Warm up. C U 2nite.
    Hypocrite.
    U luv me n e way.
    Burritos.
    “What are you smiling about?” Callum asked as I climbed into the cab of his truck. “Is that Laney?”
    “No. Why would it be Laney?”
    He laughed, starting the car and swinging us out of the parking lot. “Because she’s been all up in your shit lately. I think she’s worried you’re going to graduate, leave school, and she won’t have gotten a taste of your—“
    “Stop,” I warned him.
    “She’s cuckoo for your Cocoa Puffs, man.”
    “Yeah, I know,” I replied blandly.
    Everyone knew. She wasn’t desperate and she definitely wasn’t waiting around for me, but she was pretty open about how she felt. She wasn’t content with saying hey to each other at school or having the occasional conversation across the dinner table at her house. She wanted more. More of me.
    “You gonna do anything about it?” Callum persisted.
    “No,” I replied decidedly. “Nothing.”
    “Why not?”
    “I have my reasons.”
    “Fine. But if you don’t use it, it will fall off. That’s just science.”
    “Thank you for the PSA.”
    “You’re welcome. You hear back from UCLA yet?”
    I scowled at the buildings whipping past us as he drove us deeper into Los Angeles territory. My territory. I could feel myself both tensing as we sunk into the slums and relaxing the closer we got to the gym. “No. Not yet. I got two more acceptances, though. Pepperdine and USC.”
    Callum beamed, punching me hard in the shoulder. “Done deal then, bro! Go to USC with me! We’ll play football together, rush the same frat, bang the same chicks.”
    “No.”
    “To which part? We don’t have to join a frat, I guess.”
    “No to all of it. I’m not going to USC and I’m not passing girls and VDs back and forth with you.”
    “Then where are you going to go to school? Are you holding out for UCLA?”
    I was but I didn’t say it because if I didn’t get accepted, if that rejection arrived, then I’d failed. My first choice was out the window and I’d always know wherever I went was something of a settle. I was lucky to be going anywhere, and if the financial aid didn’t come through, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. First choice or last.
    “I’ll figure it out when it happens,” I muttered. “For now I need to focus.”
    I had a bout that night. It was my first one in over a month and I was heading to the gym with Callum to get warmed up. The actual competition wasn’t until later that evening, but Callum was leaving that night for a camping trip and he wanted to help as much as he could before my