The Rumor 013

"Ali! Gloves on. You're sparring today."

Ali froze, his heart skipping a beat. Sparring? He hadn't expected this.

"Against who?" he asked, warily eyeing the group of boxers gathered at the far end of the gym.

Coach Rahman smirked, pointing at a tall, broad-shouldered fighter wrapping his hands in red tape. "Rashid. He's one of our best."

The color drained from Ali's face. Rashid was a senior fighter with years of experience. His punches were said to feel like getting hit by a truck.

Coach Rahman clapped a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm. "You won't know until you try. Boxing isn't just about punches, Ali. It's about heart. Let's see yours."

---

Zahra and Farid, who had been lounging near the sidelines, immediately sprang to life.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Zahra said, pulling out her phone to live-stream the match. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Ali's trial by fire!"

Farid, never one to miss an opportunity for dramatics, rushed over to Ali, throwing a towel around his shoulders like a trainer from an underdog movie. "Listen up, champ. I've got secret techniques that'll guarantee your victory."

"Farid, not now," Ali groaned, trying to focus as he tightened his gloves.

"No, no, trust me," Farid insisted, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Move in close and shout, 'Look, a flying pigeon!' Then hit him when he's distracted."

Ali gave him a flat look. "That's not a secret technique. That's just stupid."

"Stupidly brilliant," Farid corrected, grinning.

---

The makeshift ring in the center of the gym was surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, all eager to see how the rookie would fare against one of the gym's titans.

Ali stepped into the ring, his heart pounding like a drum. Across from him, Rashid exuded calm confidence, bouncing lightly on his feet as he tested the tension in the ropes.

"Don't hold back, kid," Rashid said, his voice low and steady. "If you're serious about boxing, show me what you've got."

The bell rang, and the match began.

Ali moved cautiously, circling Rashid and studying his movements. He knew rushing in would be a mistake. Rashid's reach and power were his greatest assets, and Ali needed to find a way to close the distance without taking too much damage.

But Rashid wasn't about to wait. He lunged forward, throwing a quick jab that Ali barely managed to dodge. The follow-up hook caught him on the shoulder, sending him stumbling back.

"Stay on your feet, Ali!" Coach Rahman barked from the sidelines.

Ali gritted his teeth and countered with a combination of jabs, trying to create an opening. Rashid blocked them with ease, retaliating with a body shot that knocked the wind out of Ali.

"Come on, Ali! You've got this!" Zahra shouted, though her voice wavered with concern.

Farid, undeterred, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Use the pigeon trick!"

---

The match dragged on, with Ali taking more hits than he landed. His arms felt like lead, his breaths ragged. Sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision.

Rashid, on the other hand, seemed almost untouchable, his movements fluid and deliberate. He wasn't just fighting—he was teaching, exploiting Ali's mistakes to drive home the lessons.

By the final round, Ali's legs wobbled beneath him, but he refused to go down. His mind raced, replaying Coach Rahman's lessons: footwork, timing, adaptability.

When Rashid threw another hook, Ali ducked low and slipped inside his guard, landing a clean uppercut to Rashid's jaw. It wasn't enough to turn the tide, but it earned a murmur of approval from the crowd.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the match.

---

Ali leaned against the ropes, gasping for air. Rashid approached him, extending a gloved hand.

"You've got potential, kid," Rashid said with a nod. "Work on your endurance and tighten your defense. You'll get there."

Ali shook his hand, managing a weak smile. "Thanks... for not killing me."

The crowd dispersed, and Coach Rahman climbed into the ring. He crossed his arms, his expression unreadable.

"You lost," he said bluntly.

Ali winced. "I know."

"But you didn't quit," Coach continued, his tone softening. "And that's the first step. Boxing isn't just about winning. It's about learning, adapting, and never giving up."

He placed a hand on Ali's shoulder. "Rashid exposed your weaknesses today. Use that. Fix them. Next time, you'll do better."

---

As Ali exited the ring, Zahra and Farid rushed over to him.

"You were amazing!" Zahra said, showing him the footage on her phone. "Look at that uppercut! Totally epic."

Farid, as always, couldn't resist a joke. "I mean, you lost, but you lost heroically. Like a true underdog."

Ali rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling. Their support, however goofy, meant the world to him.

"Ali."

He turned to see Crystall standing nearby, holding a bottle of water. She handed it to him with a small smile.

"You did well," she said simply.

Ali's face turned red as he took the bottle. "Thanks."

"Losses aren't failures," she added, her voice gentle but firm. "They're just opportunities to grow. Keep at it."

Her words lingered in Ali's mind as he watched her walk away.

---

Later that night, Ali sat alone on the gym steps, replaying the match in his head. Every mistake, every missed opportunity. But instead of despair, he felt a spark of determination.

"I'll be back," he muttered, clenching his fists. "And next time, I won't just survive—I'll win."

---

The halls of the school buzzed with chatter as Ali walked to class, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Normally, he wouldn't care about the endless stream of gossip, but today was different.

"Did you hear?" someone whispered as he passed. "Jason and Crystall are totally a thing."

Ali froze mid-step. He turned his head slightly, pretending to tie his shoe as he strained to hear more.

"Yeah, I saw them walking together after practice yesterday," another voice chimed in. "They looked... close."

Ali straightened up, his mind racing. Jason and Crystall?

The idea made his stomach churn. He tried to shake it off, but the thought stuck with him like glue.

"Ali, you look like you've seen a ghost," Zahra said, plopping down beside him during lunch.