Sucker Punch

Chapter Three

Finn

Only one lap around the track and I knew I'd fucked up. I like to get a run in whenever I can, but after a night of drinking and limited sleep, I was wishing I'd stayed in bed, enjoying a Friday with no classes. Fortunately Mitch was trudging along with me.

"Why the fuck did we think this was a good idea," he says, looking a little green.

"We're in our prime, man. When else are we supposed to stay up til three in morning drinking AND still be able to get an early workout in," I tease.

"Speak for yourself.  After I walked Shelby home last night, I passed out. Sorry for leaving you with Adam, by the way," he says in between heaving breaths.

"Forget it. But, uh, you gonna tell me about Shelby?" I reach out and punch his arm.

He actually shrugs and blushes, though that could be his heart rate trying to catch up to him.

"I don't know, man. She's...sweet. Like she wasn't trying to impress me or anyone else, she's just herself," he heaves.

"Yeah, she always seemed friendly enough at Argo's. Always trying to get me to go to the gym's social events," I say.

Mitch laughs. I think. He may just be breathing heavily. 

"She mentioned that actually. She said you scare her because you always look so serious and pissed. And I guess there was those incidences with Galeria's roommate," he says and I laugh too.

It's not the first time people have thought I'm some scary lug, and being a boxer only contributes to my reputation. But when my father taught me how to fight he stressed that violence only creates more problems, it doesn't solve them, though that didn't prevent me from engaging in certain after school activities. For the most part, boxing was a family tradition that also happened to help me deal with stress.

"I told her you're basically a chihuahua. All bark, no bite," he heaves again,  "And that you're kinda moody sometimes." I shrug and nod my head in thanks, but we continue our run in silence.

Honestly, it's nice to hear that my friend sees what I'm really about. I know I come across as angry sometimes, and I guess I am sometimes, but not at people, just at things I can't control in my life.

We're heading back home from the university's gym, looking for someplace to grab breakfast on the way when Mitch smacks my chest like he's suddenly realized something.

"Dude, I forgot to ask! What happened with you, Adam, and what's-her-face, Galeria's roommate?"

"Ivy?"

"The one with the ass?"

"Ivy. And nothing. She helped me out with Adam. She and Gal live on Fifth, right near us, so we walked home together. That's it," I say. Though I wonder if his question has anything to do with Jay's freak out last night.

"Ah, gotcha. Well, Jay was pretty pissed about the three of you ditching us at the diner. And then when Galeria said she was ready to go home, Jay refused until he knew where Ivy was," he confirms my suspicions. We step into a coffee shop, Rusted Roast, and wait in line.

"He wasn't too happy about me walking home with her either." I not sure how to broach the subjuct, but Mitch is my best friend so I just go for it.

"So, you know how we've wondered why exactly Jay's dating Galeria? Like why he's trying to do the boyfriend thing, when he's obviously not great at it," I say. Mitch nods slowly then holds his hands up.

"Man, I think I know where you're going with this, but I don't want to get involved," he says.

"I'm not crazy, right? All this time I've wondered what Gal has that makes him stick around. But it's gotta be Ivy. She's got Ivy," I say. Mitch stays silent but looks at me, and I know he's thinking of what to say, not wanting to stir the pot.