Page 21
Story: Closer
Each punch lands with satisfying force. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I lose myself in the rhythm.
“Woah, easy there, champ!” Brandon’s voice cuts through my concentration. “What’d that bag ever do to you?”
“Needed to blow off some steam.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He grabs his gloves. “Wanna go a few rounds in the ring? Might be more satisfying than beating up on that poor defenseless bag.”
I chuckle despite myself. “You sure you can handle me?”
“Please.” He climbs into the ring. “I’ve been handling your ass since college.”
I follow, and we square off, circling each other. Jab. Cross. Hook. The familiar dance branded in my bones.
“So,” Brandon says between punches, “what’s eating you, man?”
I grunt, dodging a right hook. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps the way you were pummeling that punching bag like it owed you money?” He lands a jab to my ribs. “Plus, you’ve got that constipated look on your face that you only get when you’re overthinking shit.”
“Fuck off.”
We trade a few more blows, the only sounds our labored breathing and the smack of gloves on flesh.
“It’s Lil.” Brandon ducks under my right cross. “Isn’t it?”
My jaw clenches. “What about her?”
“Come on, man. You two have more baggage than a fucking airport.”
“I don’t care about her.” I falter, and he lands a solid punch to my gut.
“Fuck her out of your system once and for all, and then forget her. That bitch only used you. Did you already forget?
I straighten up. “Watch your fucking mouth. You don’t know shit about her.”
“Oh, I know plenty. I know she’s the reason you’ve been a miserable prick for the past few years.” He jabs at me again, but I block it.
“Shut up. I mean it.”
“Or what? You’ll punch me? Go ahead if it’ll make you feel better. But it won’t change the fact that you’re still hung up on her.”
Brandon’s right. I hate to admit it, but Lil still has a hold on me. Even after all these years, even after everything that’s happened between us.
“I tried,” I say.
“Not hard enough, apparently.”
“Fucking her doesn’t work,” I mutter.
He stops. “You tried?”
“I thought I was over her. I thought I could move on if I got her out of my system. But seeing her again, being with her again… it was like no time had passed at all.”
Brandon’s eyebrows shoot up. “Hold up, you did what now?”
“The day she was supposed to get married. I paid a little visit to her hotel room. One minute, we were talking, and the next…” The memory of Lil’s skin against mine is still vivid.
“It looks like you’re about to get your heart handed to you on a platter. Again.”
“Woah, easy there, champ!” Brandon’s voice cuts through my concentration. “What’d that bag ever do to you?”
“Needed to blow off some steam.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He grabs his gloves. “Wanna go a few rounds in the ring? Might be more satisfying than beating up on that poor defenseless bag.”
I chuckle despite myself. “You sure you can handle me?”
“Please.” He climbs into the ring. “I’ve been handling your ass since college.”
I follow, and we square off, circling each other. Jab. Cross. Hook. The familiar dance branded in my bones.
“So,” Brandon says between punches, “what’s eating you, man?”
I grunt, dodging a right hook. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps the way you were pummeling that punching bag like it owed you money?” He lands a jab to my ribs. “Plus, you’ve got that constipated look on your face that you only get when you’re overthinking shit.”
“Fuck off.”
We trade a few more blows, the only sounds our labored breathing and the smack of gloves on flesh.
“It’s Lil.” Brandon ducks under my right cross. “Isn’t it?”
My jaw clenches. “What about her?”
“Come on, man. You two have more baggage than a fucking airport.”
“I don’t care about her.” I falter, and he lands a solid punch to my gut.
“Fuck her out of your system once and for all, and then forget her. That bitch only used you. Did you already forget?
I straighten up. “Watch your fucking mouth. You don’t know shit about her.”
“Oh, I know plenty. I know she’s the reason you’ve been a miserable prick for the past few years.” He jabs at me again, but I block it.
“Shut up. I mean it.”
“Or what? You’ll punch me? Go ahead if it’ll make you feel better. But it won’t change the fact that you’re still hung up on her.”
Brandon’s right. I hate to admit it, but Lil still has a hold on me. Even after all these years, even after everything that’s happened between us.
“I tried,” I say.
“Not hard enough, apparently.”
“Fucking her doesn’t work,” I mutter.
He stops. “You tried?”
“I thought I was over her. I thought I could move on if I got her out of my system. But seeing her again, being with her again… it was like no time had passed at all.”
Brandon’s eyebrows shoot up. “Hold up, you did what now?”
“The day she was supposed to get married. I paid a little visit to her hotel room. One minute, we were talking, and the next…” The memory of Lil’s skin against mine is still vivid.
“It looks like you’re about to get your heart handed to you on a platter. Again.”
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