Page 67 of On the Ropes
“Just my palms,” I said. “But you don’t have to.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. Raised her hands up and mimicked my pose. “Show me first?”
I reached for her wrists and very gently nudged them a few inches higher. I dropped into a fighter’s stance. There were times in my life when this pose was as easy as breathing and walking. Easier, usually, than talking to people.
Tabitha made me feel different.
“I won’t actually strike your hand, okay?” I threw a few simple straight punches toward her palms. A couple jabs. A cross. Her eyes lit right up as I did. I did half a minute of what would be considered a warm-up for a total beginner. It didn’t matter. My body still came to life with every strike.
“That looks fun,” she said.
I stopped, bouncing back on my feet. I cracked a smile. “It’s really fucking fun.”
She dropped her hands and made a very sloppy and extremely cute attempt at copying my footwork. “It’s like I’m a natural.”
I turned so we were standing side-by-side. “I imagine you’re very good at everything you try and do.”
“You’ve seen me run so…the answer is yes.”
I held my palms about a foot apart. “Separate your feet six inches, give or take.” I modeled the turn of my hips and shoulders. She studied me closely, rotating the shape of her body to match mine. “Are you right-handed or left-handed?”
“Right.”
I showed her how to hold her dominant hand back, weaker hand forward. Walked her through a basic straight punch and a cross. Then I fell back and examined her posture. “Not too bad. How do you feel?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Badass?”
I held up my palms. “Then show me.”
Her fist landed against my hand. “Good. Again. Try a cross this time.”
Like any beginner, her first few hits were lacking in confidence. But it didn’t take long until I could tell she was getting into it, getting into a rhythm that kept us quiet and focused for a few minutes. The air was heavy and humid, and she was clearly out of breath. Yet each time our eyes connected, she was grinning from ear to ear.
“You’re a pro already. Rocky Balboa ain’t got shit on you.”
“Yeah?” Her ponytail swished back and forth. “You’re not teasing me, right?”
I shook my head. “I’m being serious. You look real strong.”
She hit my palm with a pretty sharp jab. “I feel like a superhero, especially with all of the lightning going on in the background.” Her next punch was a decent cross. I pulled my hand away, shook it out. Blew on it.
Tabitha’s answering laugh made my stomach flip. I reluctantly tore my attention away, settling it on the famous view in front of us—softly lit statues, the other museums, the international flags, the whole of Center City lit up. Lightning struck in the distance. The air buzzed with it.
“As kids, we must have come here on field trips, what, a dozen times at least?” she said, sounding dreamy. “And my sister and I would go once a month, maybe more. It used to be my favorite place in the whole world. This view has never gotten old. It always feels like Philly is the center of the whole universe when you’re up here.”
I lowered myself to the top step and propped my elbows on my knees. The stone sent a handful of pain signals up my spine, reminding me of past body blows. Tabitha joined me a second later, sitting close. Her knee pressed to mine. Our arms touched. I snuck a glance at her profile, her hair blowing gently around her face.
I knew her parents’ divorce had been complicated and devastating for her. Knew, from our support group, that her mother had dismissed Tabitha’s bisexuality and never accepted her. Except watching her behind the camera yesterday felt like watching Tabitha rediscover a love she’d lost. I wanted to know why she had to leave.
Why she never allowed herself to stay.
She turned to face me, eyes searching mine. A tentative smile appeared on her face. Those old boxer’s instincts told me to press here. That my opponent was wide open for a reason.
“So, uh…last night at your family dinner,” she said. “Were my awkward flirting attempts with you the hottest gossip?”
“More like my awkward attempts.”
Her lips parted. “You’ve been flirting with me too?”
