Pumpkin Spice

by C. L. Ryder

  Bethany blinked and smiled back, suddenly realizing where her gaze had been lingering. She looked away, slightly embarrassed.

  “I saw you met Kevin,” the stranger said.

  “Huh?” Bethany said, surprised.

  The woman pulled off her shirt, neatly folded it, and put it into her locker. She was tall and a bit lanky, though it was obvious that she took care of her physique. Bethany thought she was probably in her late twenties or early thirties. The clothes she wore made her look older.

  “Kevin. The guy hitting on you by the squat rack.” She slipped out of her heels, then unclasped her braw and pulled the straps off her shoulders. Then she unbuttoned her slacks and slid out of them, revealing gorgeous, milky white thighs and a tight ass accentuated by a Victoria’s Secret thong. Bethany felt her pulse jump. The combination of this stranger addressing her and her sudden nakedness took her by surprise.

  “Oh, man. You saw that?”

  “As I was walking in.” The woman pulled a pair of gym shorts and a fitness bra out from her bag and pulled them on. “I was his target last week.”

  “I’ve been coming to this gym for a while,” Bethany said. “First time that’s ever happened to me. First time I’ve ever seen that guy around here too. If he’s making a habit of hitting on every woman he sees, he’s gonna get into trouble at some point.”

  “Hm.” The woman pulled out a pair of gym shoes and sat down onto the bench next to Bethany. “I just moved into town—well, back into town. It’s only my second time working out here. Do you know how the boxing class is?”

  Bethany chewed the last bite of her bar and looked over at the woman, wondering for a moment how the she knew she was going to the boxing class, and then realized it was just a coincidence.

  “It’s great. Frank is a great instructor.”

  The stranger brightened. “Oh, so you’ve been? You’re going tonight?”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s fantastic! We should go together. I always find group classes more fun when there’s someone I know there.”

  Bethany shrugged. She usually liked to do things alone, but… “Okay. Let’s go together.”

  “Fantastic,” the woman said, offering her hand. “I’m Jane.”

  “Bethany. Good to meet you, Jane.”

  “Likewise, Bethany.”

  Four

  The class gathered in one of the gym’s large exercise rooms with a section in the middle of its hardwood floor lined with rubber mats to make a boxing ring. The participants milled about the perimeter of the room; some were chatting, some were on their phones, and Bethany and Jane stood by the wall-length mirror, stretching out and warming up.

  “Alright, class,” Frank announced as he walked to the center of the mat ring. “C’mon in, c’mon in. Let’s get started. Good evening, everyone.”

  “Good evening,” the class echoed back.

  Frank clapped and rubbed his palms together and glanced around at his students. He always prefaced his classes with a message or a pep talk, like a preacher setting the stage for his sermon. The last time Bethany had been to class, Frank had talked about the importance of being present minded. Before that, it was about repetition and discipline. Typical stuff, but Bethany enjoyed the pep talks. They weren’t super deep or anything, and that was exactly what she liked about them.

  “Today I wanted to start the class with a little talk about stress. So, the first thing I want you to do is grab a partner and a pair of mitts and start with some jab drills.”

  “You and me?” Jane asked Bethany.

  “Yeah,” Bethany nodded, and got a pair of boxing mitts from a plastic storage box against the wall. Jane pulled on her gloves. “Alright. Go to town,” Bethany said, slapping them together before holding them up as targets for Jane’s jabs.

  Frank weaved around the room, walking between the pairs of students to inspect their form as they shot jabs at the mitts. “Stress is something each and every one of us deals with in our daily lives,” he said. “We all carry it different ways, all feel it different degrees. Troubles at school, at home, your business—” Frank’s eye caught Bethany’s for a brief moment. “Relationships. Fights with friends. Money. So many things. We can’t escape it. The thing about stress is that it builds. Pressure, right? It’s like pressure. You blow up a balloon, it gets bigger until, bang! It pops. Nice jabs, Christine. Keep that rhythm going.

  “When we come in to the gym, it’s our refuge from that stress. When you come in to class, when you pump the iron, when you hit pads and hit each other, it’s your chance to release that stress. Deflate that balloon before it pops. It’s important to deflate that balloon. Don’t let it get to that point, that bursting point. Use whatever your dealing with to your advantage.” Frank cracked his fist into his open palm. “Throw those punches harder. Push that extra weight. Take it one step further than you normally would.”

  Bethany leaned forward into Jane’s punches. Encouraged by Frank’s words, they were coming harder now, the gloves echoing loudly off the vinyl mitts. Everyone had their stresses, and she wondered what Jane’s were. What was pushing her?

  Her hands were stinging now from Jane’s rapid blows. The girl moved with speed and power that matched her disciplined physique—it was obvious she was the kind of person who dedicated herself to whatever it was she took on. Bethany was eager to switch roles and lay into the mitts, but even more than that, she was eager to spar. Her body thrummed with a tense energy that was now begging to be released. The distracting thoughts that’d been occupying her mind the whole day were slowly loosening their grip, giving way to a competitive drive that sometimes took hold of her when she paired up with someone she sensed could match her affinity for boxing. All the stress was ammunition now, and she wanted to let it out.

  “Thirty more seconds!” Frank called.

  “Thirty more seconds,” Bethany echoed, pushing Jane. “C’mon. Only thirty seconds. Is that all you’ve got? Harder. Come on, faster. Faster.”

  Sweat beaded on Jane’s forehead. She was already pushing herself, throwing out jab combos as quickly as she could, but Bethany’s words were like gasoline on a fire. Jane was not one to back down from a challenge. She machine-gunned her fists into the mitts, matching each punch with a sharp exhale from her lips.

  “That’s it, Jane. Come on, harder!”

  Jane grunted with exertion, sprinting the last of her energy into her punches. The rest of the class, filled with people far less outgoing and dedicated than the two of them, was inspired by their energy. The muffled cracking of gloves against mitts grew louder and faster as everyone pushed themselves to keep up and finish strong.

  Frank clapped his hands together. “Time! Great start everyone, great start. Alright, trade the mitts…”

  Jane tossed away her gloves and took the pair of mitts. “I’m glad I partnered with you,” she told Bethany with a mild smile. “I think we’re on the same page.”

  Bethany pulled her gloves on and tapped them together. “Good. So, you don’t mind if I go all out then? I’ve got a lot of steam to let loose.”

  “Likewise. By all means, knock yourself out.”

  “Three minutes,” Frank announced. “Start!”

  The room filled again with the chatter of boxing gloves against pads, and Jane, despite preparing herself to receive Bethany’s punches, was still caught off guard by the intensity of them.

  “Now,” Frank said, continuing his pace around the room, “I want you all to focus whatever is stressing you out. Think of whatever it is and put those thoughts into your punches. Defenders, I want you to imagine those hits as your stress. Your guard is stronger than your stress. Be that impenetrable wall. Take that energy and keep it in your mind.”

  “You call those punches, Bethany?” Jane baited. “What happened to going all out?” She said this even though Bethany’s punches were perfectly hard—harder than she was used to—but she wasn’t going to back down. Bethany had pushed her, and so she’d return the favo
r. Besides, she wasn’t about to let her think she’d gotten the best of her already. Bethany’s punches came as solid and focused as steel pistons. It was obvious that she’d been wound up by the instructor’s words. She really has something to let off, she thought. Any harder and my hands might explode.

  The distracted anxiety that’d gripped Bethany loosened its hold, and she took control of the thoughts of the shop, of her future, of love and everything else, and channeled them into her strikes. She didn’t even see Jane holding the mitts anymore. For the first time in a while, she felt collected, almost calm. But she still had a lot to let out.

  At the halfway point through the class, Frank called a break and Bethany and Jane slumped against the wall and drank from their water bottles. They’d gone through several rounds of intense drills and both of them were soaked with sweat, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath.

  “So, you just moved into town, Jane?” Bethany asked. She’d been apprehensive at first when Jane had suggested they go to class together—she’d been feeling extra reserved because of the unwanted encounter with the guy at the squat rack—but now she was glad to have met someone who could match her intensity. Plus, she just seemed to feel comfortable around Jane. Often times when she paired off in class, even with someone who was ready to give and take a hard punch, there was no dynamic other than being someone to hold the bag and trade hits. Jane was different. There was a familiar energy to her.

  “I was born and raised here, actually,” Jane nodded, brushing a sweat-matted lock of hair from her forehead. “I moved up to Nor Cal for university and I ended up staying there.”

  “Oh, okay. What brought you back down here? Family?”

  “No,” Jane said. “Work.”

  “Work. What do you do?”

  “I…” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m an entrepreneur. I’ll just put it at that.”

  Bethany nodded. “Mysterious. Fair enough.”

  “How about you, Bethany, what do you do?”

  “Family business.” She smiled. “I’ll put it at that.”

  “So we’re both business owners,” Jane said. “No wonder you’re so stressed out. I could feel it in your punches.” She rubbed her palms and made a face. “I probably won’t be able to pick up a pencil for a week, thanks to you.”

  Bethany grinned. “Hey, you encouraged me. Didn’t I say I was going to go all out?”

  “Yeah, but had I known you were carrying so much pent up energy maybe I would’ve reconsidered. Not to mention, you’ve got fantastic technique.”

  “I don’t do anything half-assed. I get the feeling you’re the same way.”

  Jane’s lips pulled into a slight smile, and her reply came softly. “That’s right. You can’t be successful by doing things half-way.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Alright, everyone,” Frank said, walking to the middle of the room. “Break time’s over. Let’s get into some matches.”

  “Finally,” they both said in unison, and laughed.

  “Nobody is required to fight, but you’re all encouraged to,” said Frank. “You can drill as much as you want, but if you want to learn how to box you’ve got to do it. Any volunteers to start?”

  Jane and Bethany exchanged a glance and raised their hands. “We’ll start, Frank,” Bethany said.

  Frank turned around and clapped his hands together, a wide grin spreading on his face. “Bethany! I knew you would wanna fight. And your name is?”

  “Jane.”

  “Great, Jane. Welcome. Alright, center. Helmets on, mouths guards in. Two minute rounds.”

  The two of them popped in their mouth guards and slipped on their padded boxing helmets, and then took the center while the rest of the class made a ring around the perimeter of the mat. They tapped gloves and then drew up their guards. They both only had one thing on their minds at that moment—how good is she?

  “Fight!”

  Back in San Francisco, Jane had a private instructor come to her home every Friday to give lessons. He was one of the best in town, hired by all sorts of Bay Area big shots like Larry Page and Mark Zuckerberg, and so Jane was more than confident in her skills. She considered herself to be a competent boxer—not someone who could compete, but who could hold their own in a match against a skilled rookie. Later that night, she reassured herself that she’d probably let herself get too overconfident, and that was why it happened—not because Bethany was a better boxer than her or anything, but because she’d let her guard down.

  Bethany’s punches came fast and concentrated in a flurry of red flashes that Jane barely dodged. She was not only just quick with her hands but light on her feet, and Jane had to dance around the mat to get away from her. Every time she tried to stop and counterattack, Bethany was on her slinging punches that exploded against her gloves and hooked under her guard to pound solidly against her chest. The cheering and encouraging shouts of the class filled her ears.

  Get ahold of yourself, Jane, she thought. Stop letting her crowd you—damn, she’s fast! Are you going to let her get you so easily? Come on.

  She spotted a rare break in Bethany’s guard and charged forward, gloves swinging. Nothing but air. Bethany effortlessly bobbed and weaved out of the way of her punches. Pop, pop. Jane felt her head jerk back twice as Bethany’s gloves said hello. She was starting to get frustrated now—she didn’t think she’d landed a single solid strike against anything but Bethany’s defense. Every time Jane pushed, Bethany pulled, vanishing from her reach. The frustration of being outmatched smoldered inside of her, and and that wasn’t all. Something else was flickering down in her heart, something that she certainly hadn’t expected to find now.

  “Come on, Jane! Push!” Someone shouted.

  “Good hook! Good hook!”

  “Circle around her, circle around her!”

  The voices started to fade to the background, as if they were submerging into liquid. Everything was starting to lose their focus in Jane’s vision except for one thing: Bethany and her azure eyes, locked solidly onto her gaze.

  Frank’s voice seemed to come from a distance. “Thirty seconds left! Finish strong, ladies!”

  Jane was getting tired. She refused to acknowledge it, but it was true—her stamina was waning from dancing around so much, trying to get out from Bethany’s influence. She wasn’t used to all this evading; usually she was the one calling the shots.

  Are you going to let her get the best of you?

  One more push. One more…

  Jane saw the punch coming in slow motion. She raised her arm to block it, but came short. It broke through her guard like an angry bull smashing through a wooden fence.

  It took her a moment to realize that she was on the ground. The world was glowing and everything seemed to be vibrating. Her head swam—were those stars? No, they look more like… flowers. Yeah, white flowers. Roses, maybe… She tried to stand up, but the spinning put her back on her ass.

  The pitched whine that filled her ears slowly gave way to the sound of Bethany and Frank’s voices.

  Bethany’s face came out of the haze as she crouched down in front of her, and the world slowly started to come back into focus. “—shit, are you okay, Jane? Hey.”

  “Let’s get her helmet off,” Frank said. “Somebody grab her a water? Wow, Bethany, what a punch!”

  “Jane,” Bethany said, squeezing her shoulder. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get you that hard.”

  “Whoah,” Jane said. “What a punch.”

  Bethany held out her palm. “Here, take out your mouth guard… Have some water.”

  “Can you stand?” Frank asked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  “I’m good, I’m good,” Jane said, getting to her feet. The spinning had stopped, and the lights were slowly dimming back to normal.

  Frank clapped her hands together. “Alright, everyone. Well, that was a good way to start the matches. Who wants to go next?”

  Five
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  Jane and Bethany walked into the parking lot, gym bags slung over their shoulders. The night had turned cold and stars filled the sky. The air on her sweat-dampened skin sent a tremble through her body, so Bethany slipped into a hoodie. She wrapped her gym towel around her neck and wiped off her forehead.

  “Don’t you have a jacket?” she asked Jane. “It’s pretty cold tonight.”

  “No,” Jane said. “I’m good. The cold doesn’t usually bother me. Being up north made me used to it. My car’s just over there anyway.”

  “You know, I really don’t feel comfortable just letting drive off after knocking you out like that.”