The Numbers on Her Wrist

15

I watch as Samuel limps towards me, his hand pressed against his hip, where his last opponent managed to hit several times. He walks away from the lights that are pointed into the small, cement area sectioned off for the street fights, and he flashes me a smile. "Enjoying yourself?"

I smile, about to reply, but there's a rousing cheer from the crowd around the drink table, three men in the middle of the tight circle laughing as they explain something to the spectators. I turn my head slightly to observe the movements of the men- and the surprising amount of women- as they wander around the interior of the building. I lower the water bottle from my lips and set it on the ground to my right.

"Yes," I finally say to respond. "I think I am."

Sam chuckles, groaning quietly as he places a hand against the wall where I have my back leaned against, his eyes closes as he regains his breath; it was luck that his last fight ended in his favour. Sweat drips from the tips of his dark hair, the grin he wears causing a cut near the edge of his right cheekbone to begin to bleed worse than before. I glance at his grey shirt, all of the edges damped from his sweat.

"You fighting next?"

I raise an eyebrow as Sam scrunches his face in pain and takes a seat next to me, and he grunts softly as he scoots closer to me. I wait a beat before replying, "I might."

The congregation swells with noise once again, all versions of laughter mixed into the fray as people prepare for the next fight, and as the three men near the drinks finish their stories, many return to the invisible side-lines of the boxing ring.

Sam gestures to his cheek, catching my attention, with his chest still heaving as he tries to calm his pounding heart. "Mind taking a look at it before you go?" Sam asks quietly, meeting my stare. I sigh and nod once, pressing myself to my knees in order to see his face better. I place my fingers against his chin to tilt his head further backwards.

His hand covers mine in a reflex.

"Is it terrible?" He questions me, causing me to glance towards the man who has finally stumbled from the human-made boxing ring- Samuel's final hit was strong enough to lay out anyone; his condition is much worse than Samuel's. "Not compared to him," I breathe. "It's fine." I open my bag and retrieve a small, white napkin, offering it to him so he can wipe his face.

"In all fairness, he did take the first swing."

I push myself to my feet, stretching my arms above my head before I lean over a little to speak to him. I smirk, "We're at a street fight, Sam. As long as you don't kill him or chest, I'm perfectly fine with you winning every once in a while."

He laughs deeply and winks brightly at me, "Every once in a while, eh? Not all the time?" I lift up both my hands, gesturing to nothing in particular, a grin widening on my face. "Yeah, I can't have you being an egotistical maniac, Samuel. It's not healthy for our best-friendmanship!"

His smile widens also, "Not a real word, Amelia."

"Yes, it is."

He chuckles again as I turn, saying, "I think I will take the next fight." He catches my wrist quickly, stopping me in my tracks. Our eyes meet again and his thumb runs over my knuckles, my breath hitched in my throat at the touch. "Be careful."

I roll my eyes to brush off the feeling in my stomach, beginning to walk away from him and calling back, "I always am." Samuel swipes the water bottle from the ground, taking a long drought before shouting after me, "Good luck. I'll be watching."

I am glad my face is turned away from his so he cannot see my smile and the blush rise to my cheeks.

As I approach the area where the crowd is gathered, I notice two men who argue loudly against one another, their hands grasped tightly around their drinks as they exchange money- half in anger, half in surprise and disappointment. Their words are slurred, "You tricked me into betting for that boy! You said you ain't never seen that skinny guy fight before!" The man opposite to him furrows his brow, snatching the money away and laughing drunkenly. "I'm a liar, Frank. My job is a lie, my identity is a lie, and my wife is a lie! What'd ya think I'd end up doin' here? At a event that is considered illegal!"