"Wake up, champions! It’s Christmas!"
Kevin’s voice exploded through the dormitory at 6 AM. Seventeen boys groaned and pulled thin blankets over their heads. Christmas morning at Marcus Garvey - the one day Grey let them sleep past five-thirty.
Javier sat up slowly, testing his body. His ribs felt normal when he breathed deep. His shoulders rolled smooth, no sharp pain from where Devon had tagged him.
[PHYSICAL RECOVERY: 100% COMPLETE]
[READY FOR INTENSIVE TRAINING]
Tommy was already on his feet, poking at the faded bruise around his eye. "Look, it’s almost gone."
"Same here." Javier stretched his arms wide. His muscles felt hungry for work. "I could hit the heavy bag right now."
"Not today you won’t," Grey appeared in the doorway wearing something nobody had seen before - a genuine smile. "Christmas breakfast in ten minutes. Mrs. Rodriguez actually bought good food this year."
The common room had transformed overnight. Cheap tinsel draped from ceiling fixtures. Paper snowflakes, obviously cut by the younger kids, covered every window. Someone had wrapped Christmas lights around the old television that served the whole house.
A small plastic tree sat in the corner, surrounded by wrapped packages in neat rows. Church donations, community gifts, random charity boxes. Every resident got exactly one present, no matter how odd or useless.
Javier picked up the box with his name written in marker. The wrapping paper was thin enough to see through. Inside, something soft.
He peeled the tape carefully. Boxing gloves emerged from the tissue paper - not the expensive kind, but new enough to still smell like fresh leather.
His chest went tight. Somebody out there had thought about him specifically. He had imagined a kid who might want to fight.
"Yo, check this out," Tommy held up a worn paperback. "Muhammad Ali biography. Look how many people read this thing."
The pages were dog-eared and the spine was cracked, but Tommy’s grin was huge.
"Someone knew exactly what we needed," Javier said quietly.
"Best Christmas ever," Tommy agreed.
The cafeteria smelled heavenly. Real food cooking instead of the usual microwave disasters and stale eggs. Mrs. Rodriguez stood over the stove in a red Christmas bandana, humming while she flipped actual bacon.
"Fresh eggs today, boys!" she called out. "And bacon that’s crispy, not charcoal!"
Orange juice - the real stuff - filled plastic cups. Kids chattered louder than usual, Christmas excitement drowning out their normal morning complaints.
Javier’s stomach growled at the sight of eggs and bacon. His muscles felt hollow after a week of rest, craving the fuel they’d grown used to during training.
Carlos sat at the next table still wearing his state championship medal over his Batman pajamas. The gold caught the fluorescent light every time he moved.
"Yo, you gonna wear that thing to the shower too?" David asked, stealing a piece of Carlos’s bacon.
"Why not? Coach says we got a whole stack of messages from different teams."
"How many now?" Tommy asked, leaning forward.
"MLS teams, some European clubs, even that Mexican team my coach knows. Plus Barcelona called again yesterday with more details."
Kevin shook his head. "Still can’t believe Barcelona knows your name."
"They want me there by July for the summer program. Six weeks training with kids from all over the world."
The table went quiet. Six weeks in Spain felt impossible to kids who’d never left Brooklyn.
Grey walked over with his coffee, shaking his head with what looked like pride.
"Boy’s gonna be famous," Grey said, patting Carlos’s shoulder. "Just don’t forget us little people when you’re rich."
"Never gonna happen," Carlos said, but his grin was huge.
Mrs. Rodriguez appeared with more bacon. "Eat up, mijo. Growing boys need fuel, especially future soccer stars."
After breakfast, restlessness hit hard. Other kids sprawled in front of Christmas movies, but Javier and Tommy couldn’t stay still. Their bodies felt weird without the familiar burn of training.
Tommy started shadowboxing behind the couch, thinking nobody noticed. His feet moved in patterns that had become second nature.
[CARDIO BASE: 97% OF PEAK LEVELS]
[TECHNIQUE RETENTION: EXCELLENT]
Javier caught his movement and nodded. They both needed to sweat. To work. To feel their muscles remember their purpose.
The doorbell rang at 2 PM sharp.
Grey answered with his usual suspicion. "What do you want?"
"Merry Christmas, boys!"
Miguel’s voice boomed through the walls. Javier and Tommy shot off the couch before Grey could finish unlocking the door.
Miguel stood outside with a massive duffel bag slung over his shoulder, grinning at their eager faces.
"Figured you two might be climbing the walls by now," he said, stepping inside.
"We’ve been going crazy," Tommy said.
"Perfect. Shows you’re ready for the real work." Miguel dropped the heavy bag on the common room floor. "Christmas came early for fighters."
He unzipped the bag and started pulling out gear that made their morning gifts look like dollar store toys. Professional boxing trunks in red and blue. Proper boxing shoes with ankle support. Hand wraps that felt different - heavier, more substantial. Custom mouthguards molded to fit their teeth exactly.
"Golden Gloves regulation equipment," Miguel said. "Everything you’ll need for competition."
Tommy held up the red trunks with "RESTREPO" embroidered across the waistband. "These got our names on them."
"Danny’s idea. Said real fighters need real gear with their names on it."
Other residents gathered around, touching the equipment with awe. The boxing shoes looked expensive. The trunks felt like something professional fighters would wear.
"This is what we’re wearing in the ring?" Javier asked, running his fingers over the embroidered letters.
"Every piece. Regulation standard, just like the pros use."
Vicente appeared beside the Christmas tree, his ghostly form more solid in the warm light.
"Now you look the part," Vicente said quietly. "Equipment doesn’t make the fighter, but it sure helps you feel like one."