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but ya know…”
    Tegan shakes his head and chuckles. “Come on, Annabel. Trust me.” He holds out his hand and I let him pull me off the quads of steel AKA I-may-never-be-able-to-move-my-legs-again. As soon as I’m up, we both let go. “And just so ya know, you’d be good competition, but you couldn’t take me. Not yet.” He winks and walks away, leaving me no choice but to follow him. Again.
    ***
    “Um, I’m not really much of a boxer.” We’re in a small room by ourselves. I swear, Let’s Get Physical is like a haunted mansion on Scooby Doo. It has all sorts of secret rooms I didn’t know about. There are a couple long punching bags (no clue if they have a special name) and then the little ones where you have become like Road Runner to keep up with them once they start flying.
    “Are you sure you’re not my girlfriend or something? I think you just like to argue with me. Where’s the trust?”
    “You have a girlfriend?” I blurt out and then I want to box myself for saying it. You have a girlfriend? Of course he does. Maybe S upermodel up front or someone equally pretty. Plus, it ’s not like I care.
    “No, bad analogy, I guess, but you get the point. What about you?”
    Why is Gym Boy asking me this? Hello. I figure sarcasm is my best defense. “Nope. Don’t swing that way.”
    He chuckles again at me. He seems to do that a lot. “You know what I mean. But”—he leans closer to me and I catch a chill. Stupid AC—“I think you knew that. If you didn’t want to answer me, all you had to do is say so.” He stalls a minute and then says, “Your eyes are the craziest shade of blue I’ve ever seen. It’s like looking in a pool or something.”
    I feel his breath he’s so close to me. Minty and fresh. What am I doing? Or a better question is, why is he so close?
    “Annabel,” he whispers and I swear his voice vibrates through me. Does my name always sound like that? Almost seductive?  He’s standing farther away from me now, trying to get me in the mood to hit a bag, not seduce me. What was I thinking? “I want you to find that anger from this morning. I know you worked some of it off, but pull it back up and then kick its ass for good.”
    A beep sounds from his pocket. “Hold up a sec,” he says to me before pulling out his phone and saying, “Hey.”
    Whoever is on the other line is talking and then Tegan replies, “Three o’clock. Again? You’re going to kill yourself.” More silence from Tegan. “I know I’m the same way, but that’s different. It just sucks. We shouldn’t have to—” He looks at me like he forgot I was in the room. The Tegan from earlier is in front of me again. The one who seems to hide behind a wall like I do. “I’ll come home. I’ll pick him up. No, it doesn’t matter, I’ll change my plans, but I gotta go.”
    I’m sure he doesn’t give the person on the other end time to reply before he hangs up. He stands there, looking at me, breathing heavy, but obviously trying to hide it. “Ready?”
    I shake my head. I know this has something to do with his brother. My heart softens a little for him. “I can help… if you need something. I mean, I know we don’t know each other, but—”
    Tegan cuts me off. “I don’t need any handouts.”
    “What? I’m not trying to give you a handout. I’m trying to be nice.”
    “Well you don’t have to. We’re h ere for you, remember? Not me. You d on’t have to worry about my crap.”
    He gives me a tight, reassuring smile and takes a step back, motioning to the punching bag, and somehow, my body automatically starts to do what he said. Mom’s hurtful remarks, every name Billy has called me and everything he’s put me through. It all starts bubbling over, and despite that I’ve never hit anything in my life, I swing. When my gloved hand makes contact with the punching bag, it feels good. Some of that bubbling anger transfers through me and into the bag. And somehow…somehow I’m hitting for Tegan