Pops is the one who first taught me how to box. And until I moved down here earlier this winter, I was still going to our same boxing gym up in Queens. I’d still prefer Pops as my boxing coach, but Raoul is a steady second. He’s tough and nonjudgmental and never lets up about my form’.

I help him flick on the lights, and we stretch in silence for a little bit before he grabs the jump ropes for us. During the days, he’s there as a coach, helping the members through their workouts. But in the mornings, he works out, too. Which is why I started coming in the morning. It’s nice to push myself alongside him. Two minutes pass, and he’s already embarrassing me. He’s a sixty-eight-year-old man jumping rope so fast it’s just a blur, and I’m the one sucking wind. He grabs the pads and gloves and has me start out with a few combinations. The thwack of my gloves against the pads is the only sound for a long time.

“How’s the old man?”

Pops started coming to this gym after he moved down from Queens ten years ago, so they know one another really well.

“His spirits are high. You know him. But the chemo’s just wrecking him.”

Raoul grunts. “You getting up there to visit him?”

“Not as much as I’d like. A couple times a week. I’d like to go every day.”

“But you’ve got a lot of work to get done at the house, huh?”

“Yeah. Seems like every time I turn around there’s something else to do.”

“You ever need help, I’ll send my boy over.”

I make a noncommittal sound. I don’t want to be ungrateful to Raoul, and it’s nice of him to offer. But recently I’ve started to get the feeling that he wants to set me up with his son. And Ronnie? Ronnie is cool. Big and shy. Every once in a while I’ll catch him sneaking peeks at me from the other side of the gym. He’s exactly who I should have a crush on.

But even though my physical body is sweatily running through combinations in a stinky gym, my inner crush is somewhere in a bubble bath, chewing toxically pink bubble gum and watching reruns of Sex and the City. On the outside, I’m a tough cookie. On the inside I’m pure candy.

This is my only explanation for my feelings for Eliot Hoffman.

Who I talked to for hours last night.

Just for funsies.

“Yow.” Raoul steps back and shakes out one of his hands. “You put some power behind that one.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

I use my teeth to start taking the tape off my gloves. I can feel Raoul watching me.

“Everything all right?” he asks.

I grunt.

“Is it Jack?” he asks.