I linger by the flyer longer than I should. God, stop staring. It’s just a self defense class. But my fingers won’t let go of the edge. My pulse is racing, and I know you’re still nearby.Thinking about signing up for your class, I say, glancing at you with a half-smile. Might be nice to feel a little less… breakable.That sounded stupid. So stupid. I look down, tugging my hoodie to cover more of my neck. Painfully aware of how obvious my bruises must be“I, uh… tripped. Yesterday.” That’s the story, right? Stick to it.I’ve never thrown a punch in my life, I add quickly to change the subject. Unless you count slapping my sister during a Spice Girls routine when I was twelve. Too much. Why am I rambling?I shift my weight from foot to foot unable to look at you directly. Do you take nervous beginners? I ask, softer now. Ones who maybe just wanna… feel something other than scared?Please say yes. Please don’t ask more. Please don’t look at me like I’m broken.Location: Gym
Time: Early Evening