Abel (5th Street 4)

Abel didn’t have to ask, but just the fact that Noah was asking instead of just assuming he’d be there like he normally would meant Nellie would be there tonight. This was what both Noah and Roni had been worried about from the very beginning, that Abel and Nellie’s involvement would change things. Her having gone out last night and his supposedly “serious relationship” with Rachel would be hanging heavily in the room—the tension Noah had mentioned.

Determined to ease Noah’s mind and prove he could deal with this, he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

Who was he kidding? As much as he dreaded being around her while Roni and Noah scrutinized their behavior, a part of him was dying to see Nellie already. He’d just been with her a couple of nights ago. That was a worrisome thought and something he’d have to decide how to deal with—soon.

***

The contract Abel signed with HBO specifically stated that he must give them exclusive interviews regarding the fight and his story of how he got to where he was now. They were the only interviews he’d done where he’d spoken beyond just boxing and allowed them access into 5th street, giving them the background on how Jack, the late owner of the gym, had taught him everything he knew about the sport.

Andy told Abel that, seeing as how difficult he’d been about giving exclusive interviews, these short documentary-like interviews were getting huge ratings. They’d been airing bits and pieces of the interview for weeks now alongside of the interviews they also had with McKinley. It was all part of the hype. Abel had sat and watched similar ones endless times of all the big fights he grew up watching. So to see himself being the one featured and the hype being about his fight was a bit surreal.

He didn’t purposely set out to be difficult. He’d just heard too many stories about journalists from Felix. As far as Felix was concerned, you couldn’t trust them for shit. Most were either too lazy to double check that they got their facts straight or didn’t think the interview or article was juicy enough, so they purposely misquoted you for an added flair. It usually stirred up some kind of controversy that didn’t sit too positively in the interviewee’s favor. Abel had neither the time nor the patience for any of that. So he’d sooner turn down any and all interviews that he wasn’t contractually obligated to do. Hence, the media frenzy was beginning to build, and the race was on to get anything additional on him out there.

He sat there on Noah’s sofa, watching the pre-fight hype with clips of some of his own and McKinley’s fights. There were a few clips he hadn’t seen of McKinley and his brothers when they were trash talking him. It was to be expected. Andy said it was actually encouraged. The viewers ate it up.

“That’s the younger and louder of his two brothers,” Gio said, pointing at the screen. “I can’t stand his ass.”

If it wasn’t for the guy’s light complexion along with all the other lighter features, Abel might have thought him a New Jersey grease ball type because of the way he wore his hair and the number of rings on his fingers. The guy wearing a Pistons jersey was pointing at the screen, speaking directly to Abel. “Turn it up,” Hector said with a smirk. “This guy’s such a joke.”

“You don’t know about Hammerhead McKinley, Aweless Ayala!” The guy taunted him. “And when McKinley is done wiping the canvas with you on Cinco de Mayo, you’re gonna wish you never came sniffing around the big boys, because you ain’t nothing but a chavala.” He laughed, eyeing the screen and leaning in closer. “That’s right, Ayala. I called you a little girl in your own language because you’re always hiding and I know why. You’re nothing but an F-Beep!-ing chavala.”

Abel took a swig of his beer, completely unmoved by the idiot’s performance. “What’s this guy’s name?” he asked.

“They call him Beefhead.” Hector laughed. “More like Meathead. He’s the one who does all the celebrity reality and game shows. As you can see,” Hector turned back to look at Abel, “he’s an attention whore. The other one, his older brother . . . I can’t remember his name.”

“They call the other one McRage something or other,” Gio said, “because supposedly he has a short fuse. Even though McRage has been known to do some trash talking, he’s not nearly as loud or as big an attention whore as the douche younger brother is. And unlike Beefhead, he was actually pretty good once upon a time.”

“I heard he f**ked up his own hand and wrist getting into a drunken brawl,” Noah said. “Pretty much ended his career because the dumb ass slammed his fist so hard into a brick wall that it cracked in I don’t know how many places.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hector said. “I heard about that too. And, yeah, I’ve watched tape of him. He was actually pretty good, probably better than Hammerhead even.” He turned to take the bottled water his girlfriend Charlee brought over for him and kissed her. “Thank you, baby.”

She smiled at him, running her finger over his brow for a second. It was something Abel had seen her do often. Then she walked back to the dining room with the other girls. The guys continued talking about Hammerhead and his idiot brothers. Abel half-listened, his mind wandering off at times and the knot in his stomach still not easing up as the girls chatted and laughed. Nellie hadn’t arrived yet, but it wasn’t seeing her that had him tensed up. There was a slight possibility that she wouldn’t show up alone. Noah hadn’t mentioned a thing about her date, and Abel still wasn’t asking, but it was safe to say that if things had gone well Roni very well might’ve encouraged her to invite Logan.