Chapter One: Broken Dreams

Renata

"You will never be a boxer, Renata." The coach screamed it so loud that it echoed through the hallway. My heart sank. This had been my dream since I was six, to be a professional boxer. But the school system seemed dead set on the fact that it was a male sport, and it had always been.

"Wait, Coach." I held his wrist, my grip tight. "Let me prove myself. This has been my dream since I was little. Why can't you just look past my gender?"

He sighed, his eyes sweeping over my body. My long hair was tied in a ponytail. My crop top hung above my belly button, tightly cupping my chest. My jeans clung to my skin slightly above my knees. My manicured fingers looked polished. I knew what he was doing, judging me by my looks.

"You're not fit."

"Because I'm a girl?"

"Because you don't have what it takes." I paused.

"Look at you, a girl. Go join other girls sports." My heart sank. Each word took a piece of me. It felt like I was so close to my dream and he was the only thing standing in the way. But I would not back down.

He turned to leave, but I pulled him back. There was a big contest happening in the school, open only to senior year students. It was a contest in which the winner got to face Draven Ardent, the youngest and best boxer in the city. If I could enter the contest, I believed I could win, and maybe even beat Draven.

I weighed just fifty-two kilograms and stood at five foot six. But I was completely convinced I could beat the boys in the contest. I had been training secretly for the past three months. All I needed was for Coach Peterston to agree.

So I pulled out a paper. I had convinced my mom to sign an agreement allowing the school to let me participate, with a clause stating that any damages or injuries would be fully my responsibility. It had taken a month to convince her, but I was relentless until I got it. Now I stretched it toward the coach, my last hope.

"What is this?" he asked, staring at the paper like it smelled.

"An agreement. My mom signed it. She is fully aware that I want to join the contest and will take responsibility if anything happens. So the school does not have to worry about being sued," I said boldly, even though I shook inside, hoping he would accept.

He smiled.

"You won't give up, will you?" I did not blink.

"You know," he continued, stepping closer to me, "you are the only female interested in joining this boxing tournament in the whole of Philz High."

I grinned. "I don't care, Coach. Just sign it."

He slowly took the paper from me. My mood brightened, until he tore it into shreds right in front of my face. My lips began to tremble as my emotions welled up. It felt like he had just torn away my dream, and my eyes watered. I bent down, trying to pick up the pieces and put them back together, hoping I could somehow fix it, but it was futile. I stood back up and looked at him, the tears almost slipping out. He saw them.

"See," he said, his voice harsh. "You are even about to cry because I tore your stupid papers. You are too soft. Never come to me about this again." He walked away, leaving me standing in what felt like shattered dreams.

I walked out of the room, my bag hanging from my left shoulder. Edwina, who had been waiting for me outside, ran toward me, her eyes full of hope.

"Please. Tell me he said yes."

"Edwina."

"Look, they just raised the stakes. The person who wins the tournament gets to face Draven Ardent and wins two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." I stopped in shock and took the flyer from her hand.

It was true. The winner really did get two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Now I needed to enter more than ever.

"What?" Edwina cut through my thoughts. "Did Coach Peterston agree?" I turned to her. She saw the look in my eyes and did not need me to say a word. She knew me that well.

She pulled me into a tight hug. Edwina knew how hard I had worked just to get into the tournament, and she felt terrible for me. We pulled apart.

"What are you going to do now?" The question hit hard. I looked at the flyer again and swallowed, searching for my confidence.

"I'll find a way," I said. "Hey, could you cover for me? I feel a bit off. Probably a headache. I want to head home early." She knew I was lying. I just wanted to go home, cry my eyes out, and then come up with another plan.

"Of course. Just don't overthink it, okay?"

I nodded. "I'll call you after class. Don't you dare put your phone on DND." She laughed as I turned and walked home as fast as I could.

I barged through the front door, slamming it with all the frustration I carried. I flung my bag onto the table and headed toward my room, but I stopped when I saw my mom. She looked pale and worried, moving through the room like she was searching for something like her life depended on it.

"Mom, you're home? I thought you didn't finish until five." She turned, pacing through the room like a caged animal. "Yes, honey. I just need to pack some clothes."

"Why?"

"For work. I am going somewhere else, to work through the night." I sighed. Ever since my dad died, my mom had not seemed to rest. The doctor had diagnosed her with a serious illness brought on by stress. He had told her to rest or risk collapsing one day. But my mom did the opposite and pushed herself harder every single day.

"Mom, you have been on night shifts for two weeks. You need to rest. Please, take today off." My words fell on deaf ears as she kept packing. I gripped her hand and drew her gaze to mine.

"Please, Mom. Listen to me. You are doing exactly what the doctor told you not to do."

She rolled her eyes.

"Not now, Renata. Go to school and let me work."

I pulled her back again. "Mom, you are going to kill yourself. Why are you doing this?"

"We are going to lose the house," she blurted out.

I stood there, stunned.

"What?" The worry was written all over her face. She leaned against the counter, fighting back tears.

"I could not pay the rent, darling. The landlord gave us a month, or he kicks us out." I had not known any of this. She continued. "I have only gathered forty thousand dollars. I still need sixty more. That is why I am taking all these jobs."

I stepped closer to her and held her arms. I was already emotional, but I tried to stay strong in front of her. "Mom, but your health."

"I know," she said sadly. "But if I don't do it, who will?"

I felt her pain deeply. Since my dad died when I was eleven, my mom had always toiled to make sure I was alright. Now that she needed me, I felt completely helpless. I could not allow her to keep suffering like this. I pulled out the flyer. The boxing tournament began on Friday. If I could find a way to enter before then and win that two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, I could settle the rent and my mom would not have to worry anymore. I needed to enter that tournament. The only question was how.