Free Punching and Kissing by Helena Newbury Page B

goat.
    “I want you to try that, eventually,” he said. “To work on your balance...and get you out of your head.”
    “Out of my head?”
    “You’re too much in your head. Not enough in your body.” Was it just me, or had he hesitated before he’d said body? As if thinking of my body tripped him up. “You think too much. You need to feel it more.”
    I was still jab-jab-jab-cross ing, panting, now. “You’ve—lost—me,” I managed.
    He thought about how to explain it. He still wasn’t out of breath. “Your body’s just a vehicle, to you. Something to carry your brain. You’ve got to start feeling it. Feel the road under your feet. Feel each punch. Be in your body, not in your head.”
    It sounded like mystical boxer bullshit to me, but I nodded. And, as we ran on, I tried to do what he said. I tried to feel the air whistling past my fists as I punched. I tried to focus on the feel of my legs flexing with each step. I tried to stay out of my head and its thoughts of Aedan, jogging easily alongside me, his pecs stretching out his t-shirt, those wide shoulders rocking from side to side, his big blue eyes regarding me so solemnly….
    “You’re in your head again,” he told me.
    I gritted my teeth and kept trying. And slowly, despite the distraction of Aedan and his damn eyes, I started to feel it. It still sounded like mystical bullshit, but my body did start to feel more like me and less just a thing I gave orders to. I felt less floaty and distant, more grounded.
    By the time we reached the halfway point and turned back the way we’d come, it felt natural. By the time we reached the pier again, I was buzzing with the feeling. My muscles ached and my lungs burned, but I felt alive.
    I veered off the street and ran for the pier. It was still too early for traffic and it was so quiet that I could hear every scrape of my shoes on the asphalt, every rasp of the fabric of my sports top as I twisted and punched. As I approached the stepping-stone pier legs, I quit punching and held my arms out for balance.
    “Um—” said Aedan.
    I ignored him. How hard could it be? I jumped to the first one...and landed, swaying a little. Shit. The legs weren’t as big as they’d looked, maybe a foot in diameter. But I couldn’t stop now. I jumped again and landed on the next one, swaying a little more. Another. Another. I was over the water, now, and it suddenly looked a long way down—eight or ten feet.
    “Sylvie, I said you should try it eventually ….” Aedan called from behind me.
    In less than thirty days, I was going to be in The Pit. I couldn’t afford eventually.
    I jumped again. One foot hit the pier leg...but right at the edge, and the other foot missed it completely. My stomach lurched as I felt myself tip to one side, arms windmilling...and then I was falling towards the water.

 

     

Aedan
     
    I watched in horror as she hit the surface almost headfirst. She hadn’t had time to get her arms out so she plunged right under, going down deep.
    I raced to the edge and dived in. The water was colder than it had any right to be in the summer, and it wasn’t the cleanest, either. But I could see her beneath me, her long hair fanning out around her like a dark halo. I grabbed her under the arms and hauled her up.
    We broke the surface together, gasping in air and daylight. She spluttered a little, but seemed okay.
    “You gotta work up to it,” I panted, “you daft mare.”
    She tossed her wet hair out of her face, sending gleaming jewels of water out in arcs. Then she looked at me. “Sorry.”
    “I’ll take you to my place to dry off. It’s not far.”
    We swam and then waded ashore. It was worse, once we were out. Our clothes seemed to have absorbed half the water in the harbor and our shoes squelched. Neither of us felt like running anymore, so we trudged back along the street leaving a trail of water behind us.
    For a while, we walked in silence. Then a sudden splatter of water made me glance to