"Adams, yo. You're back." They slap hands like they grew up in the same hood. I'm officially freaking out. The guy eyes me up. He nods at me.

Eli points to me, "This is Sarah Mastermen."

I've never heard of that girl, except in the article. It feels weird to be her.

"Sarah, this is Angelo. He's a lightweight champ."

I eye him up and down. He's a beast. He doesn't look like a lightweight.

Angelo grins, "I can strip weight off like a mutha."

I nod and smile like my Spanish teacher always told me to do when I was lost.

Angelo gets the door for us, like he wants to open the door for Eli.

They both watch me, waiting for me to go in. I nervously walk into the room.

It's grey. Grey walls, grey floors, grey air. It feels warm and heavy.

I clutch my coat. Then I hear it. Grunts and slaps. I gulp.

His hand on the small of my back is warm and relaxing. He guides me through to a room with benches. Angelo watches me, grinning and shaking his head. He starts taping up his hands and stripping clothes off.

Eli is doing the same. Seeing him down to a tight white undershirt is a delightful distraction from the feeling I might pee my pants any second. I can see his tats through it. He is sexy. Angelo is even more so. His abs are sculpted and ridged. I feel the blush on my cheeks and look down at the floor. Angelo leaves the room and winks at me, "See you out there Tinkerbell. Unless you chicken out. I understand if you’re too scared to do this."

I scowl as my head whips around to watch him leave. I can feel my mind accepting his challenge before the common sense part of my brain can disagree.

I look back at Eli, "Tinkerbell?"

He smiles, "You do kind of look like her. Big blue eyes and light-yellow, blonde hair. I can see it." He hands me a bag and nods to the corner, "Go put this on."

I snatch the bag and stalk off. I fling the change room door open and sit on the bench inside of the small closet-like room. I look at myself in the mirror. I only see me. I almost wish for a second I could see her still. I strip my clothes off and pull on the things in the bag. Everything fits perfectly, including the runners.

I jump when he bangs on the door, "Let's go Tink."

I laugh and shake my head, "Fuck you Eli."

The change room is silent. I fling the door open, stuffing my things in the bag. His face is red and his square jaw is tight.

"Do I ever speak to you that way?"

"Let's not discuss the things you do to me."

He laughs bitterly.

I shoulder past him and walk through the doors Angelo went through. I'm in a long hallway. I hear the door swing again when he walks through it. He shoulders me back and turns, "In this place, you get what you give."

I grin, "Well then, let's play. I have some serious shit I'd love to give back to you."

He licks his lips and fights a grin. The dimple distracts me for a second.

He nods and walks through another door at the end of the hall. The noise blasts into the hallway from the door. I slow down and feel my stomach gnawing at me. I push through and gulp. It's several rings, wrestling or boxing rings. There is music playing somewhere from a shitty sound system and guys grunting everywhere. I see a girl with man muscles. I grimace.

"Don’t look so horrified. She is a pro female boxer."

I lean into him, "Heavy weight?"

He laughs and shoves me along. His fingers bite into my skin. I pull away. He looks at me and the red marks on my arm. "Sorry. I get pretty hyped in here."

My arms wrap around me. It's involuntary.

I've boxed in gym class. I actually liked it. It was fun to hit things. People. I haven’t done it in years though and never with guys like this. Eli, who has to be six two and two-twenty, is not a big guy here. He's not even average. He's lean. People wave to him and pound his knuckles. Everyone knows him. The old guys who look like bikers and the young guys who look like UFC champs.

He strolls over to the far corner where an older man is talking to some younger guys. They're skinny and more my size. I realize they're more like twelve, as we get closer. I sigh. He's going to make me take self-defense classes with little boys? I wonder if maybe they're Catholic too, and chuckle in my head at my joke.

I stop chuckling, reminding myself how sane people don’t laugh at their own jokes inside of their head. They tell them aloud and laugh. I look at the crowd and instantly my filter shuts that one down.

The older man smiles at me, "You must be Sarah." He claps his hands and beams at me.

I force my lips to turn up and be polite. He has enough joy inside of him for us both. He's old but still sparkly eyed and feisty.

"I'm Lance, in case Eli there hasn’t told you and this is beginner's boxing."

The boys look at me, appraising me.

Hands grip my shoulders. "You boys go easy on Tinkerbell here okay?" Angelo squeezes me. "You still have a chance to run away Tink." He slaps me on the ass and walks off laughing. My eyes are wide and horrified.

Lance laughs, "If that’s gonna offend you Tink, you're gonna need to toughen up. Or take a seat on the pine over there."

Fire burns in my eyes when I glance at Eli. He is pressing his lips together. He looks like he's about to burst.

Lance claps his hands again. "Three laps around the gym. Fast. I want a quick warm up." I stretch my legs and flex everything. When Lance blows his whistle I blow past Eli. I could kill him. I think of the millions of things I want to say to him. How I don’t want to obey him and be under his thumb. The things get less and less important as my legs finish their stretch and I kick it into high gear. I'm lapping the kids and Lance.

As I lap Eli I laugh, "Still can't catch me huh." I shoulder him and keep running. I hear his pace pick up, but I have loads of room left in my legs to stretch out. I kick it up. He doesn't stand a chance, I finish my last lap and start stretching.

Lance comes in next, he beats Eli and the kids. I eye up Eli as he comes in next. He gives me a death glare but I shrug it off, "Somebody let an old man kick his ass."

"In the ring Tink." Lance points at me.

I sigh, "Lance…uhm…sir. My name is Sarah."

He waves me off, "We all have nicknames here. I'll never remember Sarah. But with your hair in that bun, you look like Tinkerbell."

I look back at Eli who is still sucking wind, "What's his nickname?"

Lance looks confused, "That’s Eli. We don’t nickname him."

I point at Angelo kicking the crap out of a guy in the ring next to us, ""Him?"

He winks, "Angelo."

"What his real name?" I ask and pull myself into the ring.

"Angelo?" He says it like I'm the dumb one. I'm exasperated.

The ring feels funny. I bounce and hop and get why boxers can spring around so easily on TV when they fight.

The kids start to filter in. Lance throws tape at me. "Tape up."

Eli saunters over and takes the tape. He wraps my hands. They feel funny. He sticks the tape in his pocket and winks at me, "For later."

My right eye twitches. He laughs and walks away.

The kids and me stretch, practice air boxing and practice some more. My shoulders and arms are burning. I feel like I might pass out any second. I'm the one wheezing and sucking air. Eli has left. I look around for him. I catch the cross tat in the far corner. He's naked from the waist up and fighting a beast of a man. Eli is fast. I wouldn’t have even known it was him, if it weren’t for the huge cross. He fights with severity and passion. It makes heat in my belly.

"He's good huh?" I glance over at the kid next to me and nod.

I look around at the fighters and sigh, "Kinda scary. These guys are all good."

He hits my butt with his glove and nods, "We'll be that good one day Tink."

I glance at Lance and shoot daggers with my eyes. He grins at me.

"Okay, first up for sparing. Tink and Brandon."

I look around for the kid grinning and thanking his lucky stars he gets to beat on a girl.

Brandon is taller than I am and not nearly as skinny as I would like him to be. I purse my lips and wince, "Can't I have that kid?" I point to a scrawny kid in the corner whose face matches mine.

Lance rolls his bright twinkled eyes, "Tink. He's eleven. Brandon is fourteen. He's closer in age to you."

Brandon has a shit-eating grin. I want to make him eat it. I know what's more realistic though. I'm going to get beaten up by a little boy. Lance straps my helmet on and knocks it. I focus my eyes, "Ouch."

"That’s so you know how it feels." He slides a guard in my mouth. I start to panic and gag. "Shith hurtsh." I point with my glove at the guard in my mouth-that he touched.

He ignores me. I try to ignore the fingers that touched my mouth guard. I am not that girl anymore.

"Shtupid mouth guard gives me a lishp." I mutter.

He grabs my heavy-ass gloved hand and drags my to the middle of the ring. Brandon looks like he's king of the hill. I just want to kick him in the pills and end it.

"Clean fight, no kicking in the junk, no biting, and no kissing Brandon." I look horrified and Brandon's face is beet red. He snickers and nods at the smug-ass kid behind me.

"Mitts in." I putt my mitts in and Brandon pounds my hands. My skinny arms drop. The gloves weigh a ton.

Lance throws a hand up, "Fight!" he shouts. I step back immediately. Brandon swings wildly. I turtle and cry out, "Ow, you little shit. Shtop it. Let me have a chanshe."

His fists pummel me. I realize after a bit he isn’t hitting that hard. Eli hits harder with a paddle.

"COME ON TINK!" Lance is screaming like a mad man.

I swing out once but the gloves weigh a serious ton. Brandon connects when I swing and knocks me in the eye. I stagger back as the kids groan. Brandon stops hitting. I see red. It takes me a second to get my eyes to stop seeing stars. I jump up and fly at him. I'm screaming like a savage. Only I'm not punching. I'm swatting like a girl. He screams and turtles, as I lose it.