114. Annie
Chapter One Hundred Fourteen
ANNIE
K rav Maga Class: one week later.
T eri’s face is splotchy red as she holds the tombstone pad for me. I walked in today and we recognized each other immediately. I don’t know if we did it to get rid of the awkwardness or what, but we partnered up, and she’s pretty good. We were evenly paired for the warm-up exercises and now that we’re in offensive strikes, she’s got as much power as I have, so I can give her everything I’ve got, knowing she can take it. I have to admit, it’s therapeutic punching at one of the women I know Brendan has slept with. Therapeutic and strange, because like a good partner, she’s championing for me to punch harder.
“C’mon! You can do it!”
I barrel through non-stop punches, the last of the straight-punches drill. We’re being timed and the trick is to make every punch count, but my arms are weakening more and more by the second. “Keep going! Remember, you’re fighting for your life!” Teri yells, egging me on. A fire within me blazes at the words you’re fighting for your life, and I slam my fists harder, strength revived by adrenaline alone.
“Switch!” A.J. yells.
Catching my breath, I take half a step back and Teri hands the tombstone pad to me with a gleam in her eyes. “That was really good.”
“You’re just being nice.”
She shakes her head, with a look of get real as she squares off, starting off with ten lefts, then ten rights, then ten left/right combos, and right/left ones, too. You can’t let yourself get used to one side. Both have to be as strong as the other. In between punches, she asks, “How long have you been coming?”
I exhale and pop the pad back in a swift jerk to absorb the power of her fist. “Since I moved back to the city.” She nods. “You?”
“I used to come a long time ago, but then I stopped. I don’t know why. I’ve been back since I heard about that break in at your bar.” She hits the pad. I feel it a little harder this time because her knowledge of what happened surprises me, and I loosened my grip. “Don’t lose focus,” she cautions.
“Right,” I grip it tighter, popping it against her punches as she starts the combo series. “How long were you dating Brendan?” I can’t help it. I had to ask.
She glances up at my face and falters. “Who said I was dating him?”
“Ah.” I purse my lips.
“Non-stop punches!” A.J. yells and Teri and I glance over before she launches in.
Absorbing them with the pad, I struggle for a moment to remember what’s important. We’re here to train. For our health. For our safety. But what she just said is they just fucked and that’s it. Now I can’t get the image out of my head. But there are more important things in life, so I yell at her, “You can do it, Teri! Keep going. You’ve got it! Remember, you’re fighting for your life!”
The determination locks into her eyes as her fists pound into the pad. She’s panting hard, looking both vulnerable and invincible, the weakness taking over her arms, too, as the seconds tick by. You want to make a minute last forever? Do non-stop punches with a girl who’s slept with the love of your life.
“C’mon! Just a little bit longer!”
“And time!” A.J. yells. Teri drops her hands to her sides, panting hard. I lower the pad and take a knee, with her collapsing beside me as we wait for our trainer to explain the next drill. Everyone else has kneeled as well in a lopsided circle around him. “Okay, now when you’re out there, they’re not going to stop until you make them stop. So if you can’t get away, you need to be able to do whatever it takes to bring them down. Your safety is the most important thing. And when you’re being attacked, it can come from any angle. You’re at your weakest when you’re on your back, so I’m going to show you how to fight from there. You’re going to love this,” he smiles like he knows we won’t. Some of us, including me, laugh because we know he’s about to exhaust the fuck out of us. “You’re going to do more non-stop punches. Doesn’t that sound fun?” More laughter. But his face gets serious to the task at hand. “When I say ‘knees’ you will both kneel, the pad holder and the puncher. When I say ‘down,’ the puncher will lie down and the pad holder will stand above you like you’re being attacked. You will punch as hard as you can, non-stop, still using your hips to drive those punches. You got it?”
We all yell, “Yes!”
“Okay. First person up last time is the puncher.”
Teri and I stand. I hand her the pad. We both hit our fighting stance and as soon as he yells “Go! Non-stop punches!” I lay into the pad hard. “Knees!” We fall to our knees, neither of us missing a beat. “Down!” I fall to my back and she stands above me with her feet planted on either side of my waist, the pad held above me. I punch it and punch it and switch to palm-strikes when my knuckles hurt too badly. She’s yelling at me to keep going. She’s on my side, helping me, and the feeling is bizarre… because it feels as though this is how it’s supposed to be.
Women helping women, regardless of circumstance.
“Knees!” I climb up and she falls to her knees, with me palm-striking the pad fast and furious. “Up!” We rise, and my arms are so weak but Teri eggs me on with an urgent gleam in her eyes.
“You can do it, Annie! Just a little longer!”
“And Time!” A.J. yells. “Okay, switch.”
With every drill, she and I come closer together. It doesn’t matter anymore how we met or who we know, we’re friends now. That’s clear. Will we hang out? Maybe.
And when everyone forms the line in front of the mirror to do the end-of-class ritual, Teri holds out her hand. I give it a firm shake and we smile at each other, our chest rising and falling quickly as we catch our breaths, our faces flushed and alive. We walk out together, too, with me drying my face off with my towel as I nod to Alexa, the pretty brunette at the front desk.
Teri holds the door open with her backside. “I think you kicked some serious ass, sister!”
“Me? Look at you! I’d have you on my team any day.”
“I love this stuff,” she admits, walking beside me into the parking lot. “This is me.” She points to a black Audi A5.
“Nice ride. Okay, have a good one,” I smile, heading to my car.
“Annie!”
I turn to see her head tilted, keys suspended in her hand. She walks over to me and I meet her in the middle as fellow classmates pass us on the way to their cars.
“Yeah?”
She looks concerned and a little guarded. “What happened with you know who?”
I blink at her, absently folding up my dampened towel. “What do you mean?” Teri cocks her head to the side like she wants me to give her more credit. I sigh, deciding I need someone to talk to. “I fucked up. The details don’t matter, but I’m waiting to see if he’ll forgive me.”
Teri nods, reading my face with the intensity of a therapist. “He’s not doing well.”
My insides twist. My face, too. “How so?”
She looks to the side for a second, paused by the oddness of discussing this with me. I guess I must have earned her respect in class, too, because she says, “Look, I’ve known Brendan for awhile…”
“And I’ve already gathered how well,” I interject, so we’re both clear.
She cuts her eyes to me. “Okay. So it’s out in the open then? Well, I’ve known him awhile and you should know that I’ve never met anyone he’s dated. Ever. As in I don’t think he’s ever dated anyone.”
I don’t tell her about Rebecca, because I’m beginning to understand they didn’t really date. “He doesn’t do girlfriends,” I offer.
Teri laughs. “Oh man. That guy is funny. But when I met you at Knockout, he made it very clear that you were his girlfriend. His body language, his eyes, his everything. He’s never done that.”
We stare at each other. “What are you saying?”
She chuckles at my need to be hit over the head with it. “I’m saying he gives a fuck about you. That’s what I’m saying. And I saw him the other night. He was a shell. A walking shell. I knew something had happened because he’s always Mr. Easy Going, cooler than cool. Well, he’s not anymore.” She looks at me with meaning.
“I’m glad to hear it, but I texted him and he didn’t return my text. The thing is, Teri, when a man wants you, he lets you know. I’ve spent long enough waiting for Brendan Clark, I can’t force him to do what he doesn’t want to do, especially if that includes calling me.” I turn and start walking to my car, my emotions propelling me.
She calls after me, “I just want someone to have a happy ending! There’re too many unhappy people in the world for two more!”
With my hand on the door-handle of my car, I turn my head. “From your mouth to God’s ears. Goodbye.”
I climb in, closing the door to sit in silence and stare through the windshield at the dinged-up cement wall in front of me. It’s been so hard not to call him, or text him again. But I know that it takes two people wanting love for love to work. My parents went through a time just after I was born where he was unfaithful, and they decided to work through it together. And they were successful only because they both really wanted it, and wanted it badly.
Besides, when you chase a man, he runs.
Turning the car ignition, a radio commercial blasts through my speakers. I turn it down a little.
I want him more than anything. But I won’t grovel to make that happen. I do have some pride. And where I know I was wrong to lie, I also know that he’s wrong to not give me a chance to heal it.