Sorry sister

+ s e v e n

A punch. Another punch. Left and then right. Right and then left. Right. Left. Right. Left.

I keep punching the punch-box without stopping. I have to let all the stress out. I think about the strange knot I feel in my stomach every time I look into those eyes; the drill that beats against my chest and the black-out there is in my brain every time I meet that stunning blue gaze.
I scream in frustration, but it seems more like a growl and I give the last punch to the bunch-box.
I end up with my breathing irregular and the heart pounding hard in my chest, hugging the punch-box to hold my-self up.
I take a deep breath. In and out. In. Out.
Okay, now it feels better.
I don't really know why I am acting like this. I feel like a child: angry for nothing, kinky and so stupid. Stupid because I am freaking out for literally nothing.

"Hey, Thomson," says a very hoarse and low voice behind me. "Had a bad day?"

"Yes," I answer, breathless.

"If you want, you can stay her 'till late and close the gym."

Bob is always really kind and sympathetic. I turn around and see a big– no – a huge man– that's better – standing in front of me. His eyes on my body seem vitreous. His harms are crossed in front his light grey t-shirt, creating a big contrast with his dark coloured skin.

"Thanks, Bob. But it's not necessary. I'm all right, really."

"Yeah, sure, and I'm Oprah."

I laugh. It has been five or six years I come to this gym now. I started boxing when my mum died because my father was always drunk and I needed to know how to defend me and my sister if something would have happened. And, when I changed house with my sister, I've continued practicing it because it is a good way to let out the stress and don't think about my problems.

"I am serious, Xavier. What happened?"

"I don't know," I answer, and I am honest.

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?. I wouldn't almost destroy a punch-box without having a valid reason."

I sadly smile, relieved.

"Well, it is happening something to me and I don't know how to understand what it is and-"

"I thought your parents had explained you what happens during puberty, son."

"No, I didn't mean that," I chuckle. He always know what to say to make me laugh. "It's strange," I continue. "Because I don't know how to say if it is something good or bad or both things together."

He just nods. I think he doesn't know what to say and I can understand him because it's something very confusing.
It is so frustrating.

"You know, if it is something you've never felt before, try to feel it more deeply."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I mean, do something that makes you feel this way more and more. Then try to understand if it's something positive or negative."

"You mean, that I should keep doing that specific thing and pay attention about how I feel every time."

"Yes, but you will notice that at a some point that specific thing will not be enough anymore and you will try something more 'extreme' to feel the same sensation again... It is like... smoking: after a while you need more cigarettes to calm yourself down."

"I think I don't get what you're saying."

He puts both his hands on my shoulders. I am tall, yes, (1.90 meters) but he's even taller than me and I have to raise my head up to look into his deep, vitreous eyes.

"What I am saying is that you should explore yourself better," he says, looking at me intently. "If you've never felt like this before, don't be afraid and let yourself into it. Do and try new things that make you feel like this. It's the only way."

I slowly nod and mumble a soft "thanks". He smiles at me, his usual sympathetic smile, then throws me a bunch of keys, .

"I trust you, okay? Lock the gym properly and give me the keys back on Monday morning. Have a good weekend."

I smile. He's so kind to me.
I wave a hand at him and turn back to the punching-box.
I growl in frustration again and throw one of the greatest punches I've ever thrown.