After She Falls, page 10
“Max!”
“Hey, Eva.”
“I made you this,” she says proudly.
He drops the hammer to take the picture from her. He smiles faintly. The lion’s mane is black, and it wears a blue bowtie. She added dark slanted eyebrows. “Thanks. I like it.” He looks up at Adri again, puzzled. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you have a river?” Eva asks before Adri can answer. Eva eagerly looks past Max at the creek that runs behind his house.
“Yep,” he says, amused by the misnomer. “It’s a tiny river, also known as a creek.”
“Can I see it?” she asks.
He glances at Adri. “If your mom says it’s okay.”
Eva starts walking in that direction.
“Eva!” Adri calls after her. “Stop—”
“I’ll stay where you can see me!” Eva hurries to the creek but stops a safe distance away, still in Adri’s line of sight. “See?”
Adri starts to protest, but Max waves her concerns away. “She’ll be fine,” he says dismissively. “You know how shallow it is.” They had spent countless afternoons as kids dipping their toes in the cold, muddy water.
Adri falls silent, but her heart pounds as he walks the rest of the way. His hair is damp, and his chest is slick with sweat.
“Did something happen at the gym?” he asks.
Suddenly, Adri forgets her practiced speech. “No, um, everything’s fine. . . .” She trails off as he looks over her, annoyingly flustered. “Enzo just said that you were upset about something.”
His eyes narrow. “And he sent you?”
“No,” she says quickly, wishing she hadn’t brought up Enzo. “No, he didn’t send me. I . . . volunteered.”
Max stares at her in bewilderment as heat fills her cheeks. “Okay . . .” he says, frowning. “Well, I don’t know what Enzo told you, but I’m fine.” He smiles wearily. “As you’ve probably noticed by now, he likes to be dramatic.”
As he walks past her, he’s careful to leave some space between them, though not much. He pushes the door to the motor home and holds it open for a moment. “I’d invite you into the actual house, but it’s a mess.” He motions for her to follow him, but she stays put.
“I’m good here.” Adri wants to keep her eyes on Eva. And off of him.
“Should I put a shirt on, then?”
Her face blooms with color. “Do whatever you want,” she snaps.
She waits as he drops Eva’s picture on the dining table and pulls on a T-shirt before meeting her outside again. “I can always count on Enzo to blow things out of proportion.” His annoyed expression gives way to exasperation. “I honestly just got tired of talking about Gemma Stone.”
Adri frowns. “Skye said you decided not to train her.”
He nods. “I’m not interested in coaching anyone. Even her. Skye and Enzo can’t seem to comprehend that.”
Adri keeps her face smooth as he talks, but, truthfully, she’s relieved. Gemma’s interest in Max bothers her more than she wants to admit.
“So . . . you came all the way out here just to check on me?” He throws her a lightly skeptical look, and her nerves resurface again.
“No,” she says, sighing. “I wanted to talk about Saturday too.” Of course, she didn’t want to, but she knows she needs to.
Max raises an eyebrow. “Really? I figured that was one of those things we’d just pretend never happened and ignore forever.”
She laughs bleakly. “I actually considered that, but I’m trying to be more mature.”
He makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Yeah? Well, you were acting very mature at Coralou’s. Especially on the dance floor.”
She blushes again at his teasing tone. She wants to be defensive as he scowls down at her, but she catches a glimpse of something underneath his cool exterior—the gentler part of him, the part that she could still hurt—and her annoyance fades. “I’m sorry for sending mixed signals on Saturday,” she says, forcing the words out. “Obviously, you were right when you said that I don’t know what I want all the time.” She bites her lip, still embarrassed to admit it. “And that made me mad.”
“Mad enough to go home with Enzo?”
She narrows her eyes. She can tell from his tone that he knows she didn’t, but he wants to get a rise out of her—a small payback, probably. “You’re the one who didn’t want me to drive, remember? If you would’ve offered to take me home, I would’ve gone with you.” Her heart beats faster as she says it, realizing that she might’ve done much more.
Max realizes it, too, because his eyes drop to her mouth before she turns away. “What do you want, Adri?” he asks exasperatedly. “You say one thing, but your eyes say the exact opposite.”
“If you would stop looking at me like that, I could tell you!”
Her outburst surprises him, but Adri can’t help it. His magnetism frustrates her, but she’s even more frustrated with herself. Even now, she’s sending mixed messages.
He raises his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m listening.”
She exhales, recalling the questions she’s been asking herself ever since she left the church with Roman. What does she want now that she has to start over? “I just want my life to be simple. I want to teach classes and save money. I want to take care of Eva.” She almost leaves it at that, not wanting to be teased further, but she knows she can’t. “And I want to get closer to God.” She ignores the surprised look on his face. “As you’ve probably guessed, I’m going through some stuff, so those are my priorities right now, and I don’t need any distractions.”
He waits for her to tell him more, but she looks back at him with guarded eyes.
“What kind of stuff are you going through?” he asks pointedly.
For one brief, fleeting moment, she considers telling him. There was a time when almost nothing was hidden between them, including their worst mistakes—but, of all people, Max’s reaction is the one she dreads the most. “It’s just . . . private stuff.”
He scowls but doesn’t press her. Adri watches as his eyes drift away from hers to Eva, who’s still throwing rocks in his creek.
“Anyway . . .” Adri tucks a windblown strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to let you know where I’m at. It seemed like the mature thing to do. I just don’t want any—”
“Distractions,” he says flatly, with a slight sigh. “Got it.” He ticks her list off with his fingers. “Teach, save money, take care of Eva, and be more religious.”
Adri nods, surprised by his gentler tone.
“Well, I can really only help you with one of those things. Do you like working at the gym?”
She nods again. “I do.”
“Good. Everyone likes you.”
She smiles at the unexpected compliment, but his face is strangely serious. Without another word, he turns and disappears into the motor home again, leaving Adri standing in the warm evening air. She wonders if she upset him, but then he reappears with a few slices of bread. He motions for her to walk with him toward the creek. “It’s stale,” he says matter-of-factly, walking in step with her. “Eva can feed it to the geese before you go.”
She watches from a distance as he shares the slices with Eva. The two of them toss pieces into the water, and white-necked snow geese fight over the bread, honking indignantly and flapping their dark-tipped wings. Adri smiles at the sound of Eva’s laugher when Max honks back, though the sight and sound of them laughing together makes her heart feel strangely tight; Danny used to do the same thing.
Max leaves Eva to finish throwing the bread and stands beside her again. “You’re not going to run away again, right?”
The question surprises her, and it hurts coming from Max—but it’s fair. She ran away when her life was easy, so why wouldn’t she run away now that it’s hard?
She shakes her head. “No. I think I’m done running.”
7
ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY-SEVEN SINGLES,” Skye says, clicking her stopwatch. “In a minute.”
Adri drops her jump rope and catches her breath.
Skye grins. “You beat Enzo’s record.”
Adri cheers. It’s already April, which means she’s been training at the gym for almost three months now, and with Skye’s help, she’s only five pounds below her old fighting weight. Enzo says she’s giving him a run for his money, and Roman can’t hide his delight. All three of them want her to fight in the upcoming Combat House event at the gym. It’s only a month away.
“You should do it, kiddo,” Roman said, when they passed a flyer in Bluebird’s. Skye had posted them all over Sparta.
Adri balked. “I don’t know. . . . I don’t really feel like embarrassing myself just yet.”
“Why not?” Roman said. “I do it all the time.”
She’d laughed but still shrugged the idea away. Combat House was a decent-size promotion, which meant she might get matched up with a real professional.
“You know what I think,” Roman said, still trying to convince her. “Always better to go down swinging than give up while you’re on your feet.”
“Hey, can you guys help me with something?”
Enzo’s voice brings Adri back to the present as he beckons her and Skye to the ring.
“I want to try something with my beginners,” he explains, positioning them in the center. “Adri, you know judo. Kouchi Gari?”
She frowns. She hasn’t practiced judo in years. “Is that . . . pulling someone in to take out their ankle?”
Enzo snaps his fingers. “Exactly. I want to show the boys how to do it, but with a soft landing.” He places one hand near Adri’s neck, then the other on her opposite arm. “I’ll go slow. Roll back, okay?”
Adri nods, vaguely understanding, while Skye steps back to watch. Enzo pulls Adri toward him, then presses his foot against her ankle, breaking her balance. As she falls, she curls her body slightly and hits the mat with a loud but painless thud. Enzo lands with her, though he expertly stops his body from slamming into hers.
“Good, right? Didn’t hurt?”
Adri nods.
Enzo motions to Skye. “You two try it. You probably weigh around the same.”
Her face wary, Skye stands in front of Adri. She tenses up when Adri grabs her and repeats Enzo’s movements, and she goes down harder, despite Adri’s efforts to be careful. She looks up from the ground, slightly winded.
“See, that’s why I prefer boxing,” she says when Adri helps her up. “If you hit the mat, it’s because you’re already unconscious.”
She and Adri continue practicing, tweaking things at Enzo’s instruction, until they’re moving seamlessly and laughing as they take turns. Soon, they add in light punches, both of them easily dodging what the other throws.
Enzo watches with an amused expression. “Maybe you two should should fight each other at the match.”
“Is that your fantasy?” Skye asks teasingly.
Enzo laughs, though his cheeks redden. “Hey, a man could have worse fantasies.”
Adri and Skye eventually move on from judo to boxing at Skye’s request, while Enzo referees. Adri doesn’t realize people are watching them until someone cheers for her. She turns and sees a few students have gathered near the ring. Max is watching too.
“Look out, Adri!” Enzo yells, as Adri barely blocks a good hook from Skye.
“Why’d you tell her?” Skye complains. “I was finally going to land one!”
“She got distracted,” Enzo says, glancing at Max.
Adri scowls.
“Oh,” Skye says, noticing the curious onlookers too. She smiles sheepishly, then shrugs, before turning back to Adri. “I don’t mind if you don’t. Finish the round?”
Adri’s self-consciousness grows, especially since boxing is Skye’s forte. But her uncle’s words come to mind again: Better to go down swinging than give up while you’re on your feet.
She exhales. “Sure. Finish the round.”
They tap gloves and resume, this time with Skye fighting harder, throwing faster punches. Adri matches her pace but slips up, and Skye’s glove makes contact with her chin. She lands a good strike to Adri’s torso, no longer holding back, and Adri winces at the small burst of pain. A few people gasp while others cheer.
Skye throws a quick hook, but this time Adri ducks and lands her own hook into Skye’s side, surprising Skye—and everyone else—when Skye stumbles backward. More gasps and excited murmurings come from the small audience, but Max steps toward the ring and says something to Enzo, who moves between Adri and Skye before Skye can retaliate.
“Let’s call it a tie, shall we?” He glances at the wide-eyed elementary schoolers staring at Skye and Adri. “Miss Skye and Miss Adri both did great, didn’t they?”
They clap, but Skye continues to scowl, still caught up in the moment.
Adri lightly punches her arm. “Don’t worry. You won that round.”
Her face softens. “Well, we can have a rematch sometime.”
“Skye,” Max says, getting her attention. “I think your students are ready for you.”
Skye’s cheeks redden. “Sorry.” She gathers the children, and the gym grows quiet as she and Enzo lead them away. Adri pulls off her gloves and starts to unwrap her hands, but she stops when she feels Max’s eyes on her. When she looks up, he’s leaning against the ropes.
“Did you decide if you’re fighting in Combat House?”
She frowns, surprised. Enzo must’ve told him that she was considering it. “I’m still thinking about it.”
He watches with narrowed eyes as she drops her hand wraps into two tangled piles. “Here,” he says, extending his hand. “Give me those.”
She laughs as she hands them over. “Sorry. I forgot that drives you crazy.”
He doesn’t respond, too engrossed in undoing her work and properly rerolling them into neat little bundles. “They’ll last longer if you do it the right way. And they take up less space.”
Adri laughs at his teacherly tone. “I know, I know. You and Roman never let me get away with it.”
He smiles faintly. “There,” he says, finishing.
“Thanks.” Adri tries but fails to ignore the brush of his fingertips as he hands them back to her.
“Anyway . . .” He clears his throat and leans against the ropes again. “You’ve been training a lot.”
The comment surprises her. They haven’t talked much since she and Eva went to his house, aside from hellos and small talk, but she’s been sparring with Skye more often lately, and apparently he’d noticed. She watches as his eyes fall to the boxing gloves by her feet—the same worn-out pair she wore in high school. He used to tease her about the cracked, flaking leather, but Adri insisted on keeping them. Roman would’ve bought her brand-new ones, but she liked the familiar way they hugged her hands.
“You never told me why you quit fighting.”
She stiffens. Another surprising question. “You never told me why you quit fighting either,” she says, deflecting.
He shrugs. “Three years was long enough.”
She nods, although she knows Danny’s death had something to do with it too—but she doesn’t want to be pressed about her own unexpected departure from the fighting world, so she drops it. She takes a small step, intending to leave the ring, but Max stops her.
“No, see, now you tell me why you quit.” He smiles. “That’s how a conversation works.”
Her heart races as she tries to think of an answer that doesn’t include Owen. “I quit when I got pregnant with Eva,” she says, glancing at the ground.
He nods, but his eyes are skeptical for obvious reasons. Plenty of fighters become mothers. It’s an uphill battle, but it can be done, and Adri loved fighting enough that she could’ve done it—if Owen hadn’t stopped her. If she hadn’t let him.
“Do you miss it?” Max asks.
She crosses her arms, hugging her gloves against her chest like a shield. His tone is light, but she can tell that he’s trying to dig beneath the surface. Ever since she mentioned her “private stuff” at his house, she’s noticed a deeper look of concern in his eyes whenever they meet hers.
“Sometimes,” she says, lying. The truth is, she misses it all the time—but it doesn’t matter. “I’m going to go set up now,” she says quietly.
He takes the hint and moves out of her way.
Adri tries to focus as she teaches, but Max’s questions nag at her for the rest of the afternoon. She thought she buried her passion for fighting a long time ago, but lately it has been harder to ignore. She told herself over and over again that it was futile, that she threw away ten years of training for six years of failure, but that doesn’t make any difference. She still feels the fire.
Later, as she’s packing up to leave, she notices a light on in Max’s office. She steps inside, intending to turn it off and leave, but she pauses to look at one of his photos for a moment. Danny Lyons looks around the age he was when Adri first met him as he smiles for the camera, showing all of his teeth. Like Max, he has dark hair and strong, handsome features, and young Max stands beside him, smiling more shyly than his father.
Adri stares at their faces with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Max grew up without a mother too—a commonality that cemented their unusual friendship. His mom died shortly after he was born, unlike Adri’s, who’d abandoned her, but they’d been fortunate. Adri had Dalila, who was better than any mother she ever met, and Dalila loved Max like he was her own son.
“Adri?”
She jumps. Whipping around, she finds Max standing in the doorway. She realizes how odd she must look, standing in his office, gawking at the photos on his desk. “I thought you left after your class,” she says lamely, as if that would explain her presence.
“I was working out.”
Her eyes fall to the damp shirt molded to his body. Her cheeks burn.
He frowns. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was just turning off the light, but then . . .” She tears her eyes off of him and motions to the photo. “I hadn’t noticed this one before. Of Danny.”
