Twenty-Three
MIA
“Iactually am just not strong enough to do this.” Pushing AJ’s arms off of me I nearly scream, “It shouldn’t be this hard!
” I’ve been trying a new technique for the past hour.
Sixty whole minutes of absolute failure.
She made sure the gym was empty this morning so I would feel the most comfortable.
I love that I don’t even have to explain how much I hate feeling like a failure.
I try to remind myself that it’s learning, not failure, if I don’t know how but it doesn’t work.
I’ve watched AJ sweep nearly every person that comes into contact with her in that ring.
And I can’t even toss her over my shoulder when she tries to put me in a headlock.
The women taking my class have been doing so well and now come in with excitement to learn something new.
They requested this move specifically and I lied and said I could definitely teach it to them. This is punishment.
“It’s not that hard, you just can’t think about it. Would you like to go again?” AJ’s voice is so gentle and understanding. I could break down and cry right now and she wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.
Groaning as I fall back on to mats, I mumble, “If I can’t even toss you, how would I do that to a grown ass man?”
“It’s not about who it is. You’re moving your body. It’s mental.” She rolls to lay her head next to mine. “You want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“What is actually stressing you out.” Her ability to see through me makes me swallow tightly.
AJ isn’t going to make me talk, that’s the best part about this friendship.
She will let me sit in silence or sadness or frustration.
But she never lets me sit alone. I don’t answer her because the truth is that I want to talk about it so badly that my eyes are starting to sting from the pressure of holding back the tears.
“Want me to finally teach you how to throw a proper punch instead?” I swing my head to the side to take her in, gauging how serious she is.
I should have known that she wasn’t joking.
“Hell yeah I do.” I’ve been working at this gym for over half a year now, and I have never once hit a bag. It’s intimidating when you’re surrounded by people who have been doing it their entire life, embarrassingly so. She smiles wider than I’ve ever seen as she helps pull me up from the floor.
“You can wear gloves since you aren’t used to hitting. They will feel kind of heavy at first but you’ll get used to them.” She speaks as she jogs over to the wall of equipment and grabs me a pair of gloves.
“You’ve been dying to hit things today haven’t you?” I know she hasn’t worked her bag like she normally does every morning and instead has been spending time training me.
“I love hitting things.” She’s grinning as she tightens her wrap and fastens it with her teeth.
Her long dark hair already in a ponytail and her new workout set I got her molded to her body.
I wish I looked half as hot as she did while working out.
I can feel the sweat beading the back of my neck and know my chest is red and patchy from getting worked up earlier with my failed attempts.
She picks up mitts that are lying on a bench behind her.
“I’ll teach you a basic combo.” She holds the mitts up and motions with the one to my right.
“You’ll throw just a clean punch straight down the line at this one.
” She shakes the other mitt. “Then you will cross your other hand to this one, and follow up with the same punch as the first one.” She drops her hands and stands next to me, showing me how to keep my feet and demonstrates the combo.
“Don’t reach for the mitt, just follow through and try to bring your hand back to block your face.
Tight and clean, don’t worry about speed right now.
” She moves back in front of me and nods for me to start.
The punch is embarrassingly sloppy, barely made contact, the cross was easy, and I actually hit the middle of the mitt the second time.
“Great! Again.” She smiles proudly. I run through it again.
And again. And again. “Pivot your back foot, but don’t pick it up when you cross.
Drive your hips, and it’ll give you more power.
” It takes me a few times to figure out the exact motion she is describing.
After a few more rounds, the empty space is filled with the popping sound that I hear when the guys run drills and my body is on fire.
Literally. Every inch of skin feels like it is burning and being tied to the ground by cement blocks.
My breathing is staggered and the room is slightly fuzzy.
“Easy. You have to remember to breathe with each punch.” AJ is quickly at my side, helping me to sit down.
“I just got lost in it.” I breathe out choppily. I hear her laugh and look up to see her sitting across from me.
“It’s exhilarating.” My confusion must be apparent because she continues, “being able to just lose yourself in it. Training is my haven because the mitts don’t ask questions.
The gym doesn’t care how angry or sad I am.
It’s just always here, waiting and ready.
” This is the side of AJ that makes me feel the most safe.
I don't have to shine so brightly around her.
“I don’t know how you do what you do. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.” My voice is still a little strained, but my breathing is back to semi normal.
“Lots and lots of practice. Eddie would run the same drills with me for weeks before teaching me something new. He never got frustrated.” She smiles softly, recalling a memory.
“Oliver was the one to push me more. He would push me until I almost broke and was so pissed at him that I started fighting back harder than I knew was possible. I would end up on the floor in worse shape than you right now.” She starts unwrapping her hands.
I now get why they wrap them no matter what they are doing.
My hands are sweating like crazy in these gloves and my knuckles feel a little raw.
“Eddie gave me space to feel safe. Oliver made me grow by using that safe space Eddie created for me to feel everything. I don’t even think that they knew they were working together to heal me.
” I swallow thickly. Just thinking about how broken she must have felt.
She’s the strongest person I know and she is one of the driving forces for everything I am trying to make happen in my own life.
The door to the gym opens, breaking the weighted silence surrounding us.
We turn our heads to the group of guys that are walking into the gym.
I don’t recognize them and I recognize every face that has a membership at this gym.
I can sense AJ tense up from over here as she goes to stand and walk towards them.
The guys are all looking around the empty and dimly lit gym with a confidence that is unsettling.
“The gym isn’t open yet, private mat time only.” AJ crosses her arms and stops them from stepping on the mats with their shoes on. That would be so disrespectful.
“We’re here to sign up for private lessons, so that’s perfect.” The guy at the front of the group smirks at her as he openly checks her out. I don’t know if it would be better or worse for the guys to be here right now.
“I said private mat time not private lesson time. I have no openings for private lessons.” AJ’s voice is cold and settled.
“As enjoyable as a private lesson with you would be, sweetheart, we’re here to sign up with Rory Davis’s trainer.” Oh, fuck. I’ve always wanted to witness the moment some dickhead doesn’t know that AJ is a girl.
I watch AJ’s shoulders roll back as she takes a step forward and she cocks her head a little bit. “Have you met his trainer?”
“That’s why we’re here. He has the fastest hands we’ve ever seen.
And in an interview after his win he said it was all because of his new trainer AJ Davenport.
Do you know him? I bet he’s a hardass but I can handle it.
” The leader of the douchebag clan tips his head down and whispers, “I can probably handle you too if you want to wait around after I meet with him.” He extends his hand, “I’m Evan. ”
AJ moves so fast that none of them have time to register what is happening.
She snaps his hand and bends it as she moves him to his knees with his arm behind his back.
“I didn’t even get to tell you my name before you decided to creepily have your eyes on me.
” She leans down and moves her lips by his ear, not touching him.
“I’m Avery Jude. Rory’s trainer. And I can assure you that you cannot, under any circumstance, handle me.
” She pushes him forward a little bit and takes a step back.
She looks at the guy's friends who all take a step back.
“I suggest you put distance between yourself and her before she puts your blood on the mat for belittling her.” I grin as Rory’s voice rings through the gym.
“She’s definitely an act first, think later type of girl.” Eli steps beside him, warning them.
Max comes forward next to Eli and smiles, “we actually love her a little feral.”
“Her right hook is nasty though, want to see it?” Oliver takes the final step up next to Rory. A wall between the door and these guys. They are all sweaty and their chest rising and falling rapidly. They must have been on a run.
He stands up and pushes his friends towards the door. He mumbles under his breath, “Crazy bitch.”
Oliver snaps his hand out and grabs the guy by the front of his shirt just in time for Rory to step forward, face to face. “What’s your fucking name?”
“Evan Shayne.” He grits out.
“If you ever touch my girlfriend again, I’ll break your jaw.” Rory’s voice is deadly steady. “And if by some chance you find a trainer and I see you in a ring one day, rest assured you won’t walk away.” I watch Evan’s eyes dart back and forth. Poor idiot walked into the wrong gym.
Oliver releases his hold and Evan stammers backward before rushing out of the gym.
Rory immediately looks AJ over and makes sure she is okay.
Oliver checks me, but I ignore him. I haven’t talked to him since I dropped him off at his house.
I helped get him cleaned up and made sure he was asleep before I left.
“You realize that was dramatic right?” I break the silence. Everyone looked at me but AJ.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Her entire focus is on Oliver.
And I watch his eyes leave mine and drop to the floor.
Eli and Maxwell start to shuffle to the lockers.
“Don’t you dare try to run away.” She berates them, never taking her eyes on Oliver.
She is obviously still worked up over what just happened and that’s feeding into her anger over seeing Oliver all bruised up.
“I’m fine.” His voice is clipped.
Rory steps forward and she turns on him too.
“No. I had that handled. You can’t just threaten to break everyone’s legs all the time.
” She glares at him. Rory, knowing what is good for him, steps to the side and gives an apologetic shrug to the guys as he comes and joins me on the opposite side of the mats.
“It was just a rough fight.” Eli offers. I notice he leaves out that it was a rough second fight.
“You don’t even have to fight at that damn place.
I don’t know why you are so persistent in doing it.
” AJ reaches Oliver and tilts his chin up, inspecting the bruises and cuts.
She even lifts his shirt because of course she knows he is hurt there too.
“You need to heal. Go home.” As angry as AJ is, there’s a small fraction of her voice that is tinged with sadness.
She hates seeing any of us hurt. “You’re sparring Rory today.
Don’t suck.” She points to Eli. “And you can teach his classes today since I need him.” She instructs Maxwell.
Oliver opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. His eyes find mine over her shoulder, searching for something but I can’t give it to him because I don’t know what it is. He turns to walk away, even though it’s clear he doesn’t want to.
“I should have been there.” Her words are so soft that they nearly get lost in the empty space.
Rory goes to hug her, but she shrugs him off.
“Get warmed up. We have new drills to work today.” AJ pushes everything she is feeling down and gets to work on picking up our mess on the mats.
I know better than to try and talk to her right now.
Instead I find myself walking outside to catch Oliver before he leaves.
“She won’t be mad for long.” I try to make the situation better. He turns around from his car, pulling his sweaty shirt over his head. He opens the back car door and reaches into his gym bag to grab a new shirt.
“And you?” He asks as he puts the clean shirt on.
“What?”
“Will you stay mad for long?” He leans up against his car.
I sigh, “I’m not mad at you.”
“You’re just avoiding me.” He sucks his bottom lip in his mouth before slightly shaking his head.
“I’m not avoiding you either.”
“You could have stayed Saturday night instead of leaving after I fell asleep.” He accuses. And I feel out of my comfort zone. We never talk about anything that we do after we do it. It happens and then we move on. It’s what we do.
“You needed rest.”
“I wanted you.” His words, mixed with the obvious hurt in his eyes, slap me in the face.
“You didn’t ask me to stay.” It was a weak excuse and I know it. Whatever is happening between us. This space we keep coming back to and pretending like we didn’t want to stay in feels suffocating at this moment.
He’s quiet as he studies me. He takes his time, looking over every inch of skin and stitch of clothing. He takes in my hair and watches my chest stutter as I try to breathe evenly. “Next time I will.” He gets in his car and drives off without even saying goodbye.