Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

16| Liar liar

My session with Coach is the only thing I think about. As soon as I walk in, the thrum of excitement I've been feeling all day kicks up a notch. Everything is just as it should be, the same old members hitting the bags or using the weights, but something about this feels different. I'm no longer just a spectator; I'm a contender.

Auden looks over from where he's training on the heavy bag and gives me a nod. I nod back, then scan the rest of the gym for Coach. He's over by the boxing ring, watching from the sidelines as Hayden spars with Wiley. His hands are up, his expression hardened with determination, and if I hadn't witnessed it myself, I'd have thought his defeat impossible. I guess it's true what they say: the only way to go from the top is back down.

With Coach busy, I head to a heavy bag and grab some red gloves before taking my position next to Auden. He smirks a little – at what, I don't know – but doesn't look my way. I attempt to ignore him and start my warm-up, concentrating on the beat. As a lover of chaos, Auden hits faster, sending our hits out of sync.

"Heard you ran into lover boy last night," he says between hits, "looks like he was the mole, after all."

"He wasn't the mole." My fists come fast in a quick one-two, landing in the center of the bag. "He only joined Box Inc after you all started accusing him."

"Pretty coincidental, if you ask me."

"Good job nobody did."

I get back to ignoring him, but now I'm paranoid about his lover boy comment and what he meant by it. Not only is Nico the last person I'd be interested in, but lusting after the boy who defeated Hayden Walker is not a good look.

"Why'd you call him lover boy?" I ask. "You got a crush on him?"

"Funny," Auden says, but he doesn't look amused, "I called him lover boy because everyone thinks you're into him."

"That's ridiculous."

"That's what I said." He looks over between punches like I should be falling at his feet for having my back. "I mean, you guys aren't exactly well-matched."

I stop punching to look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't seem like his type, you know?"

Rage bubbles beneath the surface, but I meant what I said about making a change, so I try to keep cool. "And what type is that?"

Auden stops punching to pick up his water bottle. He gulps it down, then screws on the lid before facing me properly, his boyish face covered in sweat. "I mean, I've seen him around, and the girls he's with are always that pretty, girly type, you know?"

The familiar sting of heat hits my cheeks. If he were to turn around and sucker punch me, it would be preferable to this.

"Shit, I don't mean you're not pretty," he says, which means he must see something in my expression that I've failed to conceal, "you're just not into looks and fashion like that. I just meant the girls he goes after are."

I don't say anything. I just take this embarrassment and channel it into my heavy bag. Auden slinks off, clearly concerned I'll turn around and deck him; he's not wrong.

It's another ten minutes before Coach heads over. He stands behind me while I pound on the bag to study my form. By now, I'm in no mood for company, but I've been looking forward to this training all day, and I'll be damned if I let Auden ruin it. I give it my best effort, wanting to at least impress Coach with my footwork, but he doesn't say a word. After another few minutes, he tells me to stop, so I wipe my brow and turn to face him.

"We're starting in a good place," he says. He's got his coach voice on. It's similar to his normal voice: gruff, hoarse, but lacks the slight warmth I've grown accustomed to. "Your footwork is good. If you move this foot here–" he taps my shin and shows me where to put it, "you'll feel more stable when you hit." He spends another minute repositioning my form and showing me how to stand. "Alright, keep working on your form and footwork, and then we'll review." He's about to walk off when the sound of my not-so-pleasant tone stops him.

"That's it? That's my training? No combos or techniques? I'd have gotten more out of a Youtube tutorial."

Coach looks at me like I'm teetering on the edge of his patience, but I don't care. After waiting all day for my first-ever training session, this is what it amounted to. "You want to know the virtue of boxing?" he asks.

I fold my arms. "What?"

"Patience. You master your footwork and form, and then we'll move on to combos. Boxing is like building a house: you can't skip the foundation."

"And how long will that take?"

"As long as it takes."

He walks off to help one of the newbies with the weights, leaving me standing here. My heart thrums harder, the anger I'd felt earlier now rising to the surface. I'm pissed. I'd been looking forward to tonight, and for what? For a five-second commentary on my footwork?

It takes all my strength to rein it in. I use the equipment, burning off energy by the weights before rotating back to the heavy bag, but nothing seems to settle me. By the time the gym closes, the only thing that feels vaguely therapeutic is cleaning the gym to Eminem.

The girls he's with are always that pretty, girly type. The sentence plays in my head repeatedly, the words imprinted in my skull. Not because I care what Nico's type is, but because Auden's words made me feel the same way my mother does, as though I've somehow failed to meet their expectations. As though the way I am is not enough.

I swallow hard, determined not to cry over this, but knowing I'm alone and there's no one here to witness my downfall makes it too hard not to. The first tears slip, so I grab my stuff and head down the steps before closing the door behind me. Out on the street, I lean against the cracked front door and stare at the sky in a bid to calm down.

"Something interesting up there?"

Across the street, his gym bag casually slung across his shoulder is Nico. I look away, hating the slight thump, thump of my heart at his arrival.

"Yeah," I say, nodding at the stars, "you've got Orion's belt up there."

He crosses the street toward me until we're standing side by side. Tilting his head, he takes in the cluster of stars now half-shielded by the clouds. "Violent, liar–" he turns to me now, and it only just dawns on me how close we're standing. "Anything else I should know about you?"

I turn my head a fraction toward him. "That just about covers it."

His eyes darken as he takes in my face. Despite my best efforts to blink back the tears, he says, "Are you all right?"

I think about lying, I'm not exactly one for discussing my feelings, but maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why the volcano inside me is ready to erupt. "Not really." I run my thumb back and forth across my watch, needing a distraction. "I think I'm in way over my head."

"With the fight?"

Defeated, I sit on the step and run a hand down my face as Nico sits beside me. "The gym is on the brink of closure. I thought a fight with Katarina would gain enough attention that we might not have to close, but at the speed Coach trains me, I'll never be ready. I mean, all I wanted was to learn a combo. Is that too much to ask?"

His eyebrow arches, but to his credit, he doesn't smirk. "Not to me."

"Thank you." I turn to face him and then wish that I hadn't. He's already watching me, his face so close that I can trace the gray lines around his irises.

Deliberation crosses his face as he stares down at me. Right now, half-shrouded in shadow, he looks decidedly more dangerous than before. "Come on." He grabs my hand and pulls me up until I'm back on my feet. "Don't say I never do you any favors."

I drop his hand and take a step back. After what Auden said, the idea that someone might pass by and see us makes me nervous. "What are you doing?"

He ignores my question  to open the door, then says over his shoulder, "Teaching you a combo."

A/N

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