Monday morning came faster than Jason expected. After the weekend's intense events — the fight, the tournament offer, the conversation with his family — he was more determined than ever to keep his head straight. But now, another thought was gnawing at the back of his mind.
I need to tell Alex.
He wasn't exactly sure why he cared so much about what she thought, but it felt… important. She'd been the one person outside his family that made him feel somewhat normal since moving here. He figured she deserved to know — and part of him wondered if she'd actually show up to support him.
The first few classes of the day dragged by, but when chemistry finally rolled around, Jason felt a low buzz of excitement.
Alright, Carter. Time to play this cool.
When he entered the classroom, Alex was already at their shared table, flipping through her textbook. She glanced up as he approached. "Hey. You're alive. Thought you might've been knocked unconscious during training or something."
Jason grinned as he dropped into his seat. "Nah. Takes more than that to put me down."
Alex smirked, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind her eyes. "So… you planning on fighting every weekend now, or was that just a one-time 'beat a grown man senseless' kinda thing?"
Jason exhaled. Here goes nothing.
"Actually… I'm entering a statewide boxing tournament next week."
Alex froze. "…What?"
Jason scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. Coach Morales put me on the list. It's a pretty big deal — state-wide, top fighters from every major gym."
Her brows furrowed, and a hint of concern touched her features. "And you agreed to that?"
Jason smiled. "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I?"
Alex scoffed, setting her pen down. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you'll be putting yourself in a ring where people actually want to hurt you? Sounds like a brilliant plan, really."
Jason chuckled. "It's different. It's controlled. I'm not brawling in alleyways anymore — this is the real deal. Professional fighting. No chaos, no street rules."
Alex still didn't look convinced. "And what do you get if you win?"
Jason hesitated. "…Fifty grand."
Her eyes widened. "Fifty thousand dollars?"
"Yup."
She leaned back, incredulous. "And you're seriously willing to get your face rearranged for money?"
Jason laughed. "It's not about the money — well, okay, a little about the money. But it's mostly about proving I belong. If I win, there'll be UFC scouts there watching. I could actually get my name out there."
That made her pause. She bit her bottom lip, visibly processing what he said. "…So you really want this?"
Jason met her gaze, his voice steady. "Yeah. I do."
For a few moments, Alex didn't say anything. Then she sighed, leaning forward on the desk. "Alright. I don't like it, but… I get it. You're not exactly built for normal life."
Jason smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"It's not," she deadpanned, though a faint smile tugged at her lips.
Silence settled between them for a moment before Jason decided to push his luck. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the desk. "So… you're coming to watch, right?"
Alex blinked. "What?"
"The tournament," Jason grinned. "I mean, if I'm gonna get my face punched in, I'd at least want my lab partner there to witness my brilliance."
Alex scoffed. "You're assuming you'll still look brilliant with a black eye."
"Hey, I'm pretty resilient," Jason chuckled. "And besides… it'd be nice to have someone in the crowd who isn't just screaming 'kill him' the whole time."
She arched a brow, clearly trying to stay indifferent. "…I'll think about it."
Jason's grin widened. "Good enough for me."
They went back to working on their chemistry assignment, but the air between them felt… different. Jason could tell she was thinking about it — and he could also tell she was fighting the urge to show how much she cared.
A few minutes later, Jason decided to test the waters again. "You know… since you'll probably end up coming to the tournament, I was thinking—"
"Here we go," Alex muttered, rolling her eyes.
"—we could grab something to eat afterward," Jason finished smoothly. "Y'know, as a thank you for watching me obliterate my opponents."
Alex blinked, caught off guard. "…Are you asking me on a date?"
Jason smirked. "Didn't say that. I said thank you meal."
Her cheeks tinged the slightest shade of pink. "Uh-huh. Sure."
"But hey," Jason shrugged, pretending to focus on his textbook, "if you want it to be a date, I'm not opposed."
She stared at him, torn between irritation and something else entirely. "…You really are impossible."
"And yet, you keep talking to me," Jason grinned.
She exhaled, visibly frustrated. "…I'll think about it."
Jason chuckled, internally fist-pumping. Progress.
The bell rang, and as they gathered their stuff, Jason casually nudged her arm. "Hey. Just… don't worry too much, alright? I know what I'm doing."
"Yeah, yeah," Alex muttered, but her voice was softer now. "Just… don't get your face caved in, alright?"
Jason smiled. "Can't make any promises. But I'll try."
As they walked out of class, Jason caught a glimpse of her face — still fighting her own concern. And somehow, that made his resolve even stronger.
Win the tournament. Impress the scouts. Take Alex out after.
Simple plan. Now he just had to execute.