Page 15 of Movers and Fakers

Chapter eight

Leader

Hayes Rosewood

A glove comes soaring toward my face. I duck just in time to avoid it.

“What’s up with you today, man?” Forrest pants opposite of me. “You’re not usually this slow.”

As often as I can manage, I come to Haymakers, a boxing gym not far from campus, to train. And just about every time I’m here, I end up sparring with Forrest. He’s like a brother to me, despite our massive differences. He grew up in foster care, with barely a penny to his name. If he was at a restaurant and they asked if he preferred sparkling or still water—not that he’d even be in a place like that—he’d look at them confused and tell them tap was fine. He works a part-time job at a frozen yogurt shop after school and spends all of his money on pay-per-view fights and Fortnite. He’s also seventeen.

Our relationship began because I’m better at boxing than him. It’s not overconfidence, just a fact. The owner of the gym, Al, introduced us because he thought I could help Forrest out. I didn’t realize at the time how close we would become.

Close enough for him to tell when something’s off, unfortunately.

“I thought I’d go easy on you, give you a chance,” I reply as I roll my shoulders a few times to loosen up the tension.

Forrest gives me a skeptical look.

“You haven’t gone easy on me since the day we met. Again, I ask: what’s up?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, now get your gloves up, or I’ll find a new sparring partner.”

The word partner sends my mind back down the road it was on the last time Forrest caught me off my game. Aurora. Since the day we met, she’s danced around my mind like it’s her stage. But she wasn’t always there, like she seems to be lately.

Now, I’m analyzing all of our interactions. Specifically, our tutoring session. It’s not often so many of my faults are on display for a person. That’s usually saved for when I visit my parents.

Forrest lifts his gloves, and we start to circle each other in the ring. Some rap song about winning plays over the speakers, mixing with the smack of fists against hanging bags and the clang of weights. I bounce from foot to foot and try to focus.

It’s no use, though. Aurora now knows I’ve never studied. That I don’t even know how to. She saw how inept I am with Digital Logic. And witnessed an interaction with a woman who was far too familiar with me for me to have forgotten her name. That’s more weakness than anyone has ever had access to. The one woman who only gives me scraps of her attention now knows more about me than everyone except the guy swinging at me right now.

I block his hit, then swing and manage to make contact.

“Even at my worst I can still beat you, kid,” I taunt.

“So you admit you’re not at your best?” Forrest shoots back, raising a brow.

I sigh. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” he replies with a cheeky grin. “Might as well give in now.”

“Or I could follow through on my threat and find somebody else.”

I pretend to look around the gym.

“You know, for the guy who always tells me it’s wrong to keep things in, you sure like to bottle stuff up.”

My lips turn up in a wry grin. “Do as I say, not as I do.”

Forrest pulls off the Velcro of one of his gloves, then tucks it under his armpit to slide it off before doing the other.

“Coach Al says a good leader always sets an example for those around him,” he replies.

I pull my gloves off.

“Who said I was a leader?”

Forrest gestures a long arm toward the wall outside of Al’s office, where there’s a series of silver plaques honoring members who went above and beyond. Ones who showed great leadership potential.