get to the gym early in order to make up for lost time. Being here without Goldilocks helps me to refocus, to concentrate on my technique instead of on things I shouldn't be thinking about.

In a few months' time, I've got my amateur boxing championship. It's my one shot to prove myself, to show people what I'm made of; my one shot at a better future.

I try to keep my breathing controlled with each hit. It's easy to clear my mind when she's not around. I'm training in a room filled with people, able to block out the noise and the grunting, but I can never block out her.

At some point, Maddie walks over and smiles. "Hey," she says. "You ready for your debut on Saturday?"

I roll my eyes but don't stop punching. This party at Alyssa's house is kid stuff–an easy win. I'm training for the big leagues. "Born ready."

Now it's her turn to roll her eyes. "You know what I like about you, Max?"

I grin. "I'm pretty?"

"You're just so humble."

I'm about to argue this when I'm reminded of what Alyssa said about compliments. "Nothing wrong with believing in myself," I say. "According to Alyssa, anyway."

"No," Maddie says, "I guess there isn't." She thinks for a moment before looking concerned. "Her relationship seems weird, right?"

I have no idea what she's talking about. "Who?"

"Alyssa," she says. "I mean, she doesn't seem to mind that her boyfriend is going to get beaten up on Saturday."

I keep pounding the bag, but I can't help but grin. "She's weird, period." Maddie looks at me and smiles. "What?" I say.

"Do you like her, Max?"

I stop punching to look at her. "Are you insane?"

She frowns and says, "Why is that insane?"

"Because she's from The Palisades," I say. "Because she's in high school. Because she's annoying and high-maintenance–" she's smiling so hard that I stop and frown. "What?"

"Nothing," she says, still smiling. "It's just, you've obviously spent an awful lot of time thinking about someone you claim not to like."

I narrow my eyes. "You forced us to train together, and she goes to my brother's school. Of course I'm going to think about her. She's everywhere I go."

She laughs now. "It's okay to admit you might like her, you know."

"No," I say, "it's not. She has a boyfriend for starters, and even if she didn't, we're from two different worlds."

She furrows her eyebrows and says, "Hayden and I were from two different worlds."

I shake my head. "Not like this. You came here from New York, Maddie. You didn't grow up with all the bullshit, and being from Burbank, neither did Hayden to some extent. Alyssa–" I stop and sigh. I can't believe we're even talking about this. "Alyssa is the embodiment of everything I hate."

This girl must have a sixth sense or something, because when I look up, she comes walking into the gym in her bright pink yoga pants and scans the room. I give Maddie a look as if to say, See?

"Hey," Alyssa says, walking up to us. She looks at my top, which is slightly covered in sweat, and frowns.

"I got here early," I say by way of explanation.

She nods briefly, then walks straight over to the punching and starts to wrap her hands. Maddie and I glance at each other. Something is wrong.

After a second or two, Maddie raises an eyebrow and nods at Alyssa, as if to say, Go over there, but this is the exact kind of thing I need to avoid.

"It's not my problem," I say in a low voice. "I'm here to train, Maddie."

Maddie sighs, about to speak when Hayden pops out of the office and waves Maddie over. She turns back to face me. Her eyes flash with disapproval.

"Doesn't matter what world you're from," she says. "We all need someone to talk to." Then she calls goodbye to Alyssa and her and Hayden head out.

I run a hand down my face before turning around. Alyssa is going to town on the punching bag, and after a few minutes, I walk over and put on some gloves.

"Come on," I say, nodding at the ring. "Get a helmet on. We're sparring today."

She hesitates before putting on a helmet and following me over to the ring. We slip through the ropes and stand opposite each other.

"Why?" she asks.

"Sometimes the only thing that helps is slamming somebody's face. Hands up," I say, and then I show her how to do it.

She nods and copies my stance before we circle each other. I go through a few basic rules, like keeping shots clean and above the neck, but then I give her free rein to do whatever she wants.

In the minutes that follow, it's like she forgets whatever was playing on her mind. Her eyes light up and come alive in a way I've never seen before. She dances around me, her footwork sloppy and her punches flimsy, but she's trying. She's trying and she's smiling.

We keep going like this until I tire her out. It's easy to do, because this girl has the fitness level of a grandma, but she doesn't seem to care that she's gasping for breath. If anything, she looks relieved.

She pulls off her helmet and gloves and collapses to the floor like a sack of potatoes, her back flat to the mat. I take off my own gloves and kneel over her, alarmed.

"I'm alive," she says, her eyes still closed. "Kind of."

I smile, and then, against my better judgment, lie down next to her. We're quiet for a few minutes as we stare at the steel beams across the ceiling. The smile she'd been wearing before has worn off. Something is playing on her mind.

"Do you ever feel like you don't really know who you are?" she suddenly asks.

I rest my hands behind my head and say, "Sometimes." When I glance at her, she looks relieved. "You want to know what I think?"

She turns on her side until she's facing my profile. "Yeah."

I don't turn to look at her. I can't. "I think being who you are is a choice. People change and grow by making the effort to do so. Nobody is perfect, nobody does the right thing all the time. These are choices we make, and we make them every day. Sometimes it isn't easy."

I can feel her still looking at me, so I turn my head to the side. I didn't realize her face was so close, but it is. From here, I can see every fleck of gold in her eyes, every freckle on her face. Goddamn, she is beautiful.

"I like that," she says. "I like that you see it as a choice and not predestined. It's kind of a relief."

It should feel weird lying this close, but it doesn't. It feels like the most normal thing in the world. I hate that I even think it–I hate that Maddie could be right. And most of all, I hate that the more I try not to think about Alyssa, the more I do.

"I like sparring," she says now. "We should do it more often. No offense, but punching you in the face is so theraputic."

I flash a grin. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"I can't imagine why," she teases, and the smile she gives me makes my heart flip.

The way she's lying on her side creates a perfect outline of her curves, and I'm suddenly wondering what it would be like to touch her. It's like she so close, but forever just out of my reach.

"We should get going," I say, my voice low. Right now, lying this close, I know I'm about to do something stupid, like kiss her.

She sighs but doesn't stop looking at me. "I know, I just don't want to go home."

I frown and say, "What's wrong with home?"

She lowers her gaze from my eyes to my neck, like she's too embarrassed to look at me. "When my parents are actually home, which is rare, they argue a lot. Then there's the pressure to always be perfect." She stops now, and her eyes widen. She thinks she's said too much. "Look at me complaining about dumb stuff when there are people starving in the world."

She moves slightly, and her hair falls across her face. Without thinking, I reach out and push it behind her ear. "There's always going to be someone with a bigger problem. That doesn't mean yours are any less valid."

She raises her gaze, slowly, until her eyes meet mine. There is something different in the way she is looking at me, something raw. Her expression is always on the verge of flirtatious, but right now it is vulnerable.

I feel that look deep inside my chest. I drop my hand and get to my feet, because I'm about three seconds from kissing this girl and I'm not thinking straight. She gets to her feet, too, and looks at me.

Without a word, we both grab our stuff and head downstairs, out onto the street. I'm about to offer to drive her home when I see she's brought her car today.

She catches me looking at it and says, "I was kind of impatient to get to the gym tonight, and I couldn't be bothered to wait for an Uber. Car thieves be damned."

I grin and shake my head. This girl is insane. "You're something else, you know that? I'll see you on Saturday."

She smiles back. "See you Saturday."

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