Noah’s strength, according to the announcers that I could barely hear over the din, was in his legs. He had powerful legs, and his kicks had knocked people out. His weakness was grappling. No one mentioned his glass jaw. Maybe that was a weakness only known to him and Bo.
His opponent looked just as powerful. Noah’s fight was a little anticlimactic after I worked myself up to believe that he would be choked or struck into unconsciousness and carted off on a stretcher. Scenes from the night in the warehouse flashed through my mind. Instead, the first round consisted of the two grabbing each other around the neck and circling. There were a few blows exchanged, and Noah took his guy to the floor only to be thrown off. Neither looked too damaged after the first round.
The second round ended about twenty seconds in, after Noah kicked his opponent in the face and then drove his knee into the opponent’s abdomen about ten times until the opponent collapsed and tapped out.
Despite the shortness of the fight, I was wrung out and went to lie down. I didn’t need or want to see the big title fights. I missed Noah terribly. He looked great tonight, and there were all those girls ringing the fight, ready to attack him the minute he stepped out of the Octagon.
And he had every right to take them up on their offers, because I had so stupidly told him to get out.
“You okay?” I hadn’t heard Josh come in nor seen him because my arm was thrown across my face, in an attempt to keep my stupidity from leaking out and infecting others. I felt him sit on the side of the bed.
“What’s more important in life, Josh? Knowing who you are or just being happy with what you have?”
“I don’t know that you can have the latter without the former.”
“Right.”
“Is this about Noah?” Josh asked gently. “Because the guys and I think—”
I groaned and rolled over away from Josh. “Why are you always gossiping about my life?”
“Nothing better to do. They keep canceling our favorite soaps. But seriously, Grace, you can have both. There’s no reason why you can’t enjoy yourself with another person even while you’re searching for direction.”
“I just think that I can’t focus with Noah around. He makes it so easy for me.”
“That sounds kind of contradictory. If Noah eases your way, doesn’t it mean he gets rid of all the clutter so that you can focus on finding your ‘direction?’”
“What’s with the scare quotes? I can hear you emphasizing that word with derision,” I mumbled into his pillow.
“Because, Grace, you have this rosy and very wrong picture that everyone else around you knows what the hell they’re doing. I’m probably not going to get drafted, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t play football, but I’ve got to figure it out. You don’t think Lana wonders whether the life choices she has made are right? Everyone has moments of uncertainty. You have to give yourself room to fail, Grace.” Josh pulled on my arm and rolled me back over so he could look at me. “I know you’ve been lost since Dad died. And I’ve been a shitty brother, at times, but not moving forward with your life isn’t going to bring him back. And it wouldn’t have kept him alive.”
The tears I had tried to keep at bay were sliding out of my eyes and dampening the pillow. Josh reached over to wipe them away. His own eyes were a bit wet. “I miss Dad every day, especially on game days. While I’m not a fan of the idea of my little sister dating, this Noah guy seems to make you happy. I’d rather have you happy and with him than miserable and alone.”
I wiped at my tears. “God, I’m like the poster child for every emo, sad-sack girl out there. I’m letting down my gender.”
“At least you admit it. Now dry those tears and come out. The fight’s over, and the guys are going to want to impress you by doing keg stands.”
“You make it sound so enticing,” I mocked.
“I know. This way they will be so disgusting, you’ll take a decade to want to date again.”
“You’re so clever.” I patted him on the chest and pushed off the bed.
Josh was right. Watching a bunch of players do keg stands and then puke did turn my stomach. I was glad to go home the next day.
I waited until I was sure Noah had returned to campus.
“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m doing the wrong thing?” I asked Lana as we were picking out the clothes I would wear to lure Noah back to me. I had, through some sneaking around, figured out that Noah was going to be at his gym tonight doing some kind of post mortem. Maybe planning for his next fight.