My next training session with Hayden is quiet and awkward. He teaches me a new technique called 'Escape the Bear Hug,' which involves him locking his arms around me in a way that feels entirely too intimate.
"In a minute, you're going to make a small jump, taking your legs out to the side so you lower your body. At the same time, thrust your arms up to break my hold," Hayden says. "Got it?"
I manage to nod, even though I'm not really listening to a word he is saying. All I can focus on is the fact that his arms are currently wrapped around me like he's about to take me here and now. Hayden must sense my inner discomfort, because he suddenly lets go and turns me to face him, looking annoyed.
"What's going on?" he asks. "It's like your mind is somewhere else today."
"I'm fine," I say, my heart pounding. "I just don't feel like learning a new technique today. Can we focus on the punching bag?"
He shrugs as if to say, whatever, so I grab the gloves from the equipment box and put them on before going to town on one of the bags.
Hayden watches me carefully from the sidelines, his thick arms folded across his chest. "You're still mad," he says finally, watching me.
I keep punching, but in between breaths I say, "Yes."
His eyes gleam back like he's about to laugh, but he's keeping it in to avoid pissing me off further. "This is the first time someone's been mad at me without there first being a reason."
I stop punching to look at him, trying to get control of my breathing. "There is a reason, though. I want to know that if someone was spreading rumors about a girl, any girl, you would put a stop to it instead of just going along with it."
He is quiet for a moment as he studies my face. I think maybe he is going to say something cutting, or belittle my feelings, but instead he just looks confused.
"Why?" he asks. "Why do you want to know that? Why are you giving any thought to what I do or don't do?" He moves beside me, staring at my profile in a way that makes me feel self conscious.
"I just want to know that the person I'm spending so much time with is a good person," I say. "Like, if you had a trainer and he was a serial killer, would this deter you from being trained by him? Or would you say, 'Oh well, he might be a serial killer but I don't care because I'm just here to train?'"
When I turn to face Hayden properly, he is staring at me so hard that I can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. "Are you comparing me to a serial killer?"
I sigh because I'm getting nowhere. "No, I'm just saying it matters, doesn't it? Even if we're just training, it matters."
He thinks about this for all of two seconds. "I don't think the two are comparable."
"Sure they are."
He laughs now, his eyes still gleaming, and for a second I swear he is looking at me like I'm the cutest thing in the world. "You are actually insane, Maddison."
I scowl and get back to punching. "Stop calling me that."
He laughs again. "It's your name, and your punches are all over the place. Here." He suddenly moves behind me without any warning, placing his hand on my stomach. "Use your core to keep your balance. You'll have better control."
I try to focus on punching, but it's hard when his chest is on my back. His hand feels warm and solid against my skin, sending warmth to the pit of my stomach.
"Okay, that's enough training for one day," I say, side-stepping away from him. I sit down for a second, taking off my gloves while avoiding his gaze. When I finally look up, Hayden's eyes are darker somehow, more serious. If I don't say something to lighten the mood, he will ask me what's wrong, and that's a question I don't have the answer to.
"So, when can we start fighting in the ring?" I ask.
He raises an eyebrow. I'm expecting him to say not yet, or soon, or sometime in the future, but instead he says, "Never."
"Why not?" I ask. "I'm never going to learn how to protect myself if you won't let me test out any moves on an actual person. I promise to go easy on you."
I expect him to smile back, but instead he closes the distance between us and looks down at me, using his fingers to tilt my chin up. "Why do you need to protect yourself?"
It feels like his fingertips are burning through my skin. I clear my throat, wishing I hadn't said anything at all. "I don't, I just meant in the general sense. Just in case."
He stares back for a moment, his eyes suspicious, before he drops his hand. "You'll get hurt."
"If I were a guy, you would let me in the ring," I say.
"If you were a guy," he says, a slight growl to his voice, "I wouldn't care so damn much." I blink up at him, surprised. He must realize what he implied, because he backs away slightly and says, "I just meant that you don't have enough experience is all. You're still learning how to throw a punch. You need to walk before you run, Maddie."
"I'll be extra careful," I say. "You can wrap me up in cotton or bubble wrap or a million layers of clothes."
He smiles now, unable to help himself. "Look, I'll think about it, all right? Come on, I'll give you a ride home."
We gather up the rest of our things and then I let him drive me home again. The journey is quiet, but it's no longer an awkward silence like it was in the beginning; it feels natural.
"Hayden, can I ask you something?"
Briefly, he nods. I take a deep breath to gather some courage before asking him something I might not like the answer to. "Why don't you acknowledge me at school? I mean, I know we're not friends or anything, but it's kind of weird."
He's silent for so long that I think he's not going to answer. I tell myself I don't mind if he doesn't answer, he doesn't owe me any kind of explanation, but then he quickly shrugs a shoulder and says, "I like to keep my gym life separate."
I nod, because I get it. Sometimes, compartmentalizing things makes life easier, somehow. I turn to the window, deciding I like his response. It's like we share this little secret, like we exist only in a place where no one else does. Without meaning to, I find myself smiling.