I narrow my eyes at him. He’s pushing it. I amnotin the mood.
“Right.” Freddie stands, grabbing his gym keys. “We’re working out.”
“Gym’s closed on Sundays.”
“Manager, remember?” He dangles the keys. “Perks of the job.”
“I don’t?—”
“Not a request, bro.” Ethan’s already pulling on his shoes. “You need to hit something that isn’t your steering wheel.”
Twenty minutes later, Freddie’s got Kanye blastingthrough the empty gym’s speakers, the bass vibrating through the floor. The place feels different without the usual crowd - darker, more private. Like our own fight club but with better equipment.
“Here.” Freddie tosses me some boxing wraps for my hands. “Time to work out whatever’s actually bothering you.”
I start wrapping my hands, muscle memory taking over. “I told you?—”
“Yeah, yeah. Freshman kid, rocks, whatever.” Ethan holds the punching bag steady. “Nothing to do with Tara switching partners?”
My first hit lands harder than intended. Ethan raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment.
“Or maybe,” Freddie says carefully, “it has something to do with why she switched in the first place?”
Another hit. Then another. The rhythm of it helps, gives me something to focus on besides the tight feeling in my chest.
“You know”—Ethan grunts as the bag swings—“for someone so smart, you can be really fucking stupid sometimes.”
“Not helping,” Freddie warns, but I’m already stepping back, breathing hard.
“You want to know what’s bothering me?” The words come out sharp. “Fine. She switched partners without saying anything. Just... decided she’d rather work with anyone else. And now I’m stuck with this kid who won’t shut up about his crystal collection while she’s over there laughing with Maria like everything’s fine. Like we didn’t—” I catch myself, but it’s too late.
“Like you didn’t what?” Freddie asks quietly.
I strip off the wraps, suddenly needing to move. “Nothing. Forget it.”
“Nope.” Ethan steps in front of me. “You’ve been walking around like a zombie for weeks. Something happened with Tara, and you’re both too stubborn to fix it.”
“Can’t fix something that was never real in the first place,” I mutter, but the words taste like lies.
Freddie turns up the music, probably so no one can hear us if they walk by. “Want to try that again? This time without the bullshit?”
I grab a medicine ball, needing something to do with my hands. “It doesn’t matter. She’s better off without?—”
“If you say ‘better off without me’ I will literally throw this weight at your head,” Ethan interrupts. “You’re not actually this dense.”
“You don’t understand?—”
“Then explain it to us,” Freddie says, “because from where we’re standing, you’ve got feelings for a girl who clearly has feelings for you, but instead of dealing with it like an adult, you’re taking it out on gym equipment and some poor freshman who probably just wanted to impress you.”
The medicine ball hits the ground with a thud that even the music can’t drown out.
“She deservesbetter,” I say finally. “Better than someone who’ll just mess up her life like my family messes up everything they touch.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Ethan throws his hands up. “Have you tried asking her what she deserves? Or are you just making that decision for her?”
Something dark and ugly rises in my chest because they don’t understand. Can’t understand what it’s like being a Spencer, how everything we touch turns to ash. But Ethan might actually be right about one thing. I haven’t given her the chance to make the decision. I thought by stepping away I was, but maybe…
“I need to run.” I’m already moving toward the door.
