Zahra leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "At least he's trying, which is more than I can say for most people in this room."
Jason ignored her, his focus fixed on Ali. "Tell you what," he said, his voice louder now to ensure the entire cafeteria could hear. "If you're serious about this boxing thing, why don't we make it interesting? Prove yourself at the state championship. If you win even one round, I'll back off. But if you don't…"
He trailed off, letting the implications hang in the air.
Ali's fists clenched under the table. The weight of everyone's stares pressed down on him, but so did something else—a fire ignited by Jason's taunts.
"Fine," Ali said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I'll prove it. I'll compete in the championship, and I'll win."
The cafeteria erupted into murmurs, a mix of disbelief and intrigue. Jason's smirk widened. "We'll see, Ali. We'll see."
---
That afternoon, Ali stormed into Coach Rahman's backyard gym. The sun beat down mercilessly, but the familiar clang of weights and the rhythmic pounding of gloves on punching bags offered a strange sense of comfort.
Coach Rahman looked up from where he was wrapping a younger kid's hands. "You look like you've got something to say, kid."
Ali hesitated, then blurted out, "I want to compete in the state championship."
Coach Rahman raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "The state championship? That's no joke, Ali. You've barely started training."
"I know," Ali admitted, his shoulders tensing. "But I have to do this. I made a bet."
Coach sighed, rubbing his temples. "A bet? You're letting your pride make decisions for you now?"
"It's not just pride," Ali insisted. "It's about proving to myself—and to everyone else—that I'm more than just some kid with a pipe dream."
The older man studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright. If you're serious about this, I'll help you. But you'd better be ready to work harder than you've ever worked in your life."
"I am," Ali said, determination blazing in his eyes.
---
Meanwhile, Zahra was already spinning the story into her own form of entertainment. Her blog, Zahra Unfiltered, became a hub for updates on what she dubbed the "David vs. Goliath" showdown.
In her latest post, she'd photoshopped an image of Ali holding a slingshot while Jason towered over him in a boxing robe. "Coming soon to a ring near you," the caption read.
Ali groaned when she showed it to him. "Do you have to make this a public spectacle?"
Zahra grinned. "Of course! The world needs to know about your heroic journey."
Farid chimed in, holding a watermelon in both hands. "Speaking of heroic journeys, I've got the perfect training tip. Punch this until it breaks. Instant power boost!"
Ali stared at him. "Where did you even get that?"
"The grocery store," Farid said matter-of-factly. "Trust me, Ali. This is how legends are made."
---
The humor did little to ease Ali's nerves, but a brief encounter with Crystall later that day provided unexpected comfort.
She caught him by the lockers, her soft brown eyes glinting with curiosity. "I heard about the bet," she said.
Ali winced. "Let me guess—you think it's ridiculous too."
"Not at all," Crystall said, surprising him. "I think it's brave. Most people wouldn't have the guts to stand up to Jason, let alone challenge him."
Her words warmed something inside him. "Thanks, Crystall. That means a lot."
She smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just remember, it's not about proving him wrong. It's about proving yourself right."
Ali nodded, her words echoing in his mind as she walked away.
---
The next day, Jason approached Ali again during PE, a smug look on his face. "You sure you don't want to back out? Save yourself the embarrassment?"
Ali straightened, meeting Jason's gaze head-on. "Not a chance."
Jason tilted his head, clearly enjoying the tension. "Alright then. See you in the ring."
Ali didn't flinch. "You will."
And as Jason walked away, Ali felt something he hadn't felt in a long time—confidence. He didn't know how he'd do it, but he was going to make good on his promise. Failure wasn't an option.
---
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over Coach Rahman's backyard gym. The scent of sweat and leather filled the air as Ali stood awkwardly in front of a punching bag, his arms dangling at his sides.
"Alright, kid," Coach Rahman barked, clapping his hands. "Let's see what you've got. Show me your footwork!"
Ali shifted uncomfortably. "Uh… footwork?"
"Yes, footwork! Boxing isn't just about punching; it's about dancing. Move your feet, circle the bag, and stay light. Let's go!"
Ali shuffled in a clumsy half-circle around the punching bag. His movements were stiff, his steps uneven. Zahra, who had somehow managed to sneak in unnoticed, stifled a laugh from her perch on an old tire.
"More grace, less elephant!" Coach Rahman shouted, shaking his head. "Do you think Muhammad Ali became the greatest by stomping around like that?"
Ali flushed but tried again, this time tripping over his own feet and crashing into the punching bag. Zahra couldn't contain herself anymore and burst out laughing, pulling out her phone to capture the moment.
---
"Alright, forget the bag," Coach Rahman said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He grabbed a long broomstick and handed it to Ali. "Shadowbox with this."
Ali blinked. "With a broomstick?"
"Yes! Hold it like a sword, and jab, jab, jab! This will teach you precision and balance."
Zahra's laughter echoed through the gym as Ali reluctantly obeyed, jabbing at the air with the broomstick. "Wow, Ali, you look like you're auditioning for a kung fu movie!"
"Quiet, Zahra!" Ali shot back, trying to ignore her giggles.
Farid sauntered in, holding a bottle of soda. "What's this? Ali vs. the Wicked Witch?" He took one look at Ali flailing with the broomstick and burst into laughter.
"Alright, joker," Coach Rahman said, tossing a jump rope at Farid. "Since you're so interested, why don't you join in?"
Farid smirked, taking the rope. "Easy peasy."
Two minutes later, he was doubled over, gasping for air. "Why… is… jumping… so hard?"
Coach Rahman rolled his eyes. "And this is why I train boxers, not comedians."