he sound of my punches echoes through the gym. My sessions seem to be getting longer these days, which means by the time I've finished, it's almost closing.

There are only three of us left, and I glance at Hayden and Maddie in the ring. They're sparring with each other, and Hayden is doing something I've rarely seen him do, except for when she's around: smile.

He throws out a fist, and in one quick sweep, she ducks and moves behind him. He turns, almost surprised by her speed, before grabbing her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. For a brief second, I want what they have, but then I turn back to my punching bag and remember the only thing I want is to fight.

I continue my punches, quick jabs that send the punching bag flying. Every hit is heavy and hard, another step closer to greatness. It's why I continue long after I've grown tired, long after my knuckles start to burn beneath my gloves. Nothing will stop me, not even pain.

"You keep this up and I'll have to buy new equipment," Hayden says from behind me.

I smirk and keep going, refusing to break my rhythm. "If it breaks, I'll replace it."

I've only been here for a few months, but it already feels like I belong. I'd quit my old gym for a number of reasons. My coach, Andre, died of a heart attack last year, and the new coach they'd replaced him with wasn't easy to get along with. Besides, all I could think about was Andre, and the gym was too much of a reminder of the friendship I'd lost. Not just friendship, I guess, but a father figure. On top of that, the membership prices had shot up, and it was becoming too expensive to train.

Leaving was hard, and some might say not the best decision. I've got a fight in a few months –my first one since Andre died – and after taking so much time off, it's supposed to be my comeback. Training without an official coach is always risky, but I've put in the work; I just hope it pays off.

GymCon isn't so bad, either. Despite the lack of professional coaches, this place is better in many ways. While the equipment here is on its last legs, it's closer to home and the opening hours suit me better. Plus, Hayden lets me stay after closing, as long as I lock up. It's one of the draws of this place: an owner who actually gives a shit.

Hayden stands back to watch my technique, clearly impressed. He's better than me, despite being a year younger, but then he's had more time to train. Growing up, I could never afford to join a gym, which is why I admire him for offering free memberships to kids eighteen and under. Maybe if I'd trained from the start, I'd have already achieved greatness by now.

I'm in the middle of another combo when the door swings open. I stop punching for a second to see who it is, and that's when Goldilocks strolls in. To say I'm surprised is an understatement. I think I'd be less surprised if Muhammad Ali's ghost walked in.

She's wearing pink yoga pants and a tight black sports bra with a fluffy white jacket over it. Her hair has been pulled into a high ponytail that drapes down her back, and a set of pink headphones curl around her neck. I shake my head. It's the kind of well-put-together outfit that people who have never actually exercised wear.

She briefly scans the gym and catches my eye. Her gaze flits from my face to my arms, then back to my face. She looks away, her eyes landing on the boxing ring where Maddie is taking off her gloves.

Noticing the new girl, Maddie walks over. They're too far away for me to hear what they're saying, but Goldilocks looks hesitant. Maddie glances at her watch because it's getting close to closing, but this probably never occurred to the new girl. Girls like her don't usually consider anyone else.

After a few minutes, Maddie leads her over to where Hayden and I are standing. "Guys, this is Alyssa," she says. "Since we're trying to recruit more girls–" she shoots Hayden a pointed look, "–I invited her to come over and have a look at the gym."

She flashes Alyssa a reassuring smile, but Alyssa doesn't look convinced. In fact, she looks like she's already regretting this.

"Alyssa, you know Hayden already," she says, turning to me, "but this is Max."

Alyssa pins those dark eyes on mine. "Nice to meet you. I think your brother is in my class."

I watch her carefully. Any mention of my brother instantly puts me on edge, and for a second, I imagine all the ways someone like her must treat someone like my brother. When I don't say anything, Maddie glares at me.

Hayden steps forward and turns to Alyssa. "We're actually about to close," he says, sounding apologetic. "Maddie and I are already late to a family dinner, but if you come back–"

"I promised her I'd show her what this place is about," Maddie interrupts. "Max is staying late tonight, and Alyssa came all this way." She turns to me now, those hazel eyes soft.

I shake my head and look to Hayden, but he's staying out of this. "I'm not–"

"Please," Maddie says. "All you need to do is explain what we do here, and show her how to use the equipment." She turns back to Alyssa. "Then, if you feel like it's something you'd like to do, we can get you set up properly."

I'm silent for a beat too long. Alyssa starts to look uncomfortable, and I can tell she's about to change her mind, so I relent and say, "Sure, fine."

Maddie looks relieved. She slips her hand into Hayden's and shoots him a pleased look before mouthing Thank you to me. I tell them to have fun at dinner, and the moment the door clicks behind them, I slowly peel off my gloves.

Alyssa watches carefully. This is the last thing I want to be doing right now, but considering Hayden lets me train after hours, it's the least I can do. With my gloves off, I finally look at her. I start with her face and the lipstick on her lips before glancing at her hands. "You planning on taking those talons off?"

She looks at her long, fake nails in confusion. "I can't, they're glued on." When she looks back up, she's offended. "What's wrong with them?"

I shrug and say, "If you're serious about training, they'll have to go."

She folds her arms and narrows her eyes. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," I say, stepping closer. "Your sneakers aren't proper sneakers. You drop a weight on your foot, and you'll break your toes."

She glances at her pinky, flimsy shoes before looking back up. "These cost three hundred dollars."

I furrow an eyebrow at the ridiculousness of this statement. "Then I hate to break it to you, but you've been ripped off."

She taps her foot impatiently. I can tell she's on the verge of telling me to go to hell, and I probably wouldn't blame her. I don't mean to be rude, but I have no idea why she's here–she's obviously not serious about this.

"Fine."

"Let's get started then," I say. I point to the row of heavy bags lining the walls. "Those are heavy bags. They're the most popular equipment here, so you have to get in at the right time to be able to use one. I prefer to come really early or stay late. Over there is the weights section." I nod to the closed-off area in the corner, where the rows of weights and training benches are. "Boxing ring over there where you can spar." I look at her now, finding those dark eyes on mine. "Any questions?"

She looks me dead in the eyes, folds her arms, and says, "Yeah, are you always this welcoming?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Did you want me to roll out the red carpet?"

She doesn't say anything for a good moment or two. "For a start," she says flatly. Then, without another word, she turns and walks out.

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