Page 16 of Movers and Fakers

“The plaque with your name on it,” he says dryly.

“That was months ago. I decided to change my ways. I’ve decided to not follow through, always do the opposite of what I say I’m going to, and be an all-around terrible person.”

Forrest laughs as he grabs his water bottle from a corner of the ring. I drop my gloves in the opposite corner and grab my water bottle, taking a swig of the cool liquid. With the drink comes a little clarity, and as much as I don’t want to talk about it, I know I should.

It took months for Forrest to open up to me, and a big reason he did was because I talked to him. A lot. If he didn’t have the kind of life that he did, with so many struggles, I probably wouldn’t care as much. But he needs to know he can trust me.

“You remember when I said I hated one of my classes this semester?” I ask, and lean against the ropes.

Forrest stops chugging water and nods. “Yeah, digital something? Ethics?”

“Logic,” I correct. “Yeah. I’m failing.”

Forrest’s brown eyes go wide.

“Does that mean you’re broke now?”

A laugh bursts out of me. I told him a while back about the deal with my dad. The one that says if I’m going to go to college, I have to keep my grades up, or he cuts me off until I come to work with him.

“Not yet, but I will be if I can’t pass this class.” I rake a hand through my hair. “So, I got a tutor.”

“Okay.” Forrest drags out the word, like he doesn’t understand where this is headed.

“It’s the ballerina who hates me,” I inform him. Because I also told him about Aurora, which I’m now beginning to regret, because he’s laughing hysterically, doubling over in a way I don’t appreciate.

“Okay, it’s not that funny.”

“It is,” he gasps between laughs. “It almost makes me believe in karma.”

“Karma?” I huff. “How is this karma?”

Forrest straightens back up and smirks.

“All the girls you dated once, then tossed the next day have come back to haunt you.”

I shoot him an unamused look. “Don’t make me put you in a headlock.”

“I just think it’s interesting that you’re usually the one turning people away, and now the one woman who won’t date you is your tutor. Sounds like karma to me.”

“Maybe her spending time with me will make her want to date me,” I challenge.

“As someone who spends a lot of time with you, hard disagree.”

I shake my head, laughing in spite of his dig.

A shout breaks into our conversation. “The ring isn’t a beauty parlor,” Al yells. “Fight or get out.”

I glance over to see Al poking his head out of his office, which he keeps shut the majority of the time. He does have a window, though, so he can watch the gym. The elderly man’s words come out brash, but his grin undermines them.

“Sorry, Al,” I yell back. “Forrest was trying to get me to talk about my feelings.”

Forrest glares at me, knowing that plenty of other guys in the gym can hear me. I grab my stuff and duck out of the ring before he decides to start back up our fight. Forrest follows suit, grumbling about me being an idiot. Al chuckles at us and returns to his office.

We walk over to the metal lockers lining one of the walls, and I pull out my duffel, throwing my gloves inside.

“So, why is the ballerina in your head?” Forrest asks as he pulls on his shoes.

I shrug. “It’s just weird to have a tutor in general. Even if it wasn’t her. I’m not used to needing help.”