John focused on the bag before him, drowning out Chris’s voice. He laid into the bag with a speed and force that set him drifting into another place. The strength of his jabs and crosses knocked the bag and Chris back a few inches, catching his friend off guard. John’s quiet fury was punctuated with a few well-timed uppercuts and knee thrusts, battering the heavy bag and causing him to break a sweat. His mind was on Victoria and how poorly things had gone yesterday. He’d initially thought he held his own while matching wit with her asshole boss, but after a fitful night’s sleep, he now wondered if he’d sounded like an idiot in front of both of them. Victoria was a crazy smart woman who said things like “textual artifacts,” who had a small legion of young scholars who followed her around for her literary advice. After being out of school for a decade, how could John fit into the world of elbow-patch academics?

Before he was aware of it, two minutes had turned into five.

“Okay, break.” Chris called him out of his trance.

He dropped his arms and broke his intense stare on the bag. His breath was racing as blood pounded in his ears. “Shit,” he whispered.

“Shit’s right,” his friend said with a low whistle. “You okay?”

John tried to catch his breath. “Yeah.”

“Right,” Chris said stepping from behind the bag. “I know you well enough to say only two things calm you down when you’re stressed: fighting and reading. What’s got you battering my gym equipment?”

“Give me a minute,” John panted. They sat side by side on a bench as John waited for his resting heartbeat to lower.

“Men at our age have to pace ourselves, Johnny.”

“Fuck you, I’m in my thirties.”

Chris laughed outright. “And somehow knocking on forty’s door. Seriously, dude, What’s up with you? You look more stressed out than usual.”

John glanced at his friend. “If I tell you, will you promise not to bro-out?”

“Okay?”

“I met someone,” John said. “And I don’t know what to call what we’re doing.”

“Hooking up?”

He shrugged. “No, I don’t think it is.”

“Situationship?”

“I don’t know.” John struggled to find the words. “I think she’s... God, I don’t know.”

“Start from the beginning,” Chris said, employing a trick he’d learned from John’s mother.

John breathed deeply and relayed the events that led Victoria and him to part ways yesterday, leaving out the necessary bits. When he’d finished, he felt his face redden and managed to avoid eye contact with Chris. “I feel like a dumb kid again. Does she like me? Or does she like like me?”

Chris gave one of his good-natured chuckles. “She sounds...interesting, I’ll say that.”

“I should call her, right?”