Mark My Words

42 | Thievery

Some part of Rosalie was convinced that Joanna was exaggerating about her evening plans of beating up punching bags. Truthfully, Rosalie never touched boxing canvas before in her life, or even strayed to that section of the gym, but that evening, she found herself under the tungsten lights over rubber mats and a sandbag suspended on a chain.

    Joanna pulled wraps out of her soccer duffle, and as she wrapped them swiftly around her knuckles and between her fingers, Rosalie caught a glimpse of the red cracks along Joanna's dry knuckles. She assumed it was from the cold weather until now.

    "I'm surprised you've never hit a punching bag before. You seem like the kickboxing type," Joanna commented, looking up from her hands to where Rosalie watched from a distance, pretending to be distracted by her phone.

    Rosalie cleared her throat and shook her head with a shrug. "I don't know. I just... never really got into any other sport. I tried volleyball when I was younger but it never stuck."

    "Shucks. I bet you look good in spandex," Joanna said with a grin. Rosalie scowled at her, and it only caused Joanna's smile to widen. "Sorry. You're an easy target for flattery."

    "I can leave, you know," Rosalie said.

    Joanna tossed a roll of cloth gauze at Rosalie. She caught it and mimicked the way Joanna wrapped her own knuckles. She tore the gauze and tucked it into place on either hand before meeting Joanna at the grounded pillars resembling punching bags. They were firmer, though—more solid. Rosalie put her hands to it and pushed her weight into it, but it didn't budge.

    Joanna put a hand to her hip where the elastic band of her basketball shorts rested. "I'll show you how to use this. Just follow what I do," she said, and positioned herself at the pillar beside Rosalie.

    Rosalie wasn't expecting the forceful speed of Joanna's two fists punching into the bag one by one before doubling back. She pivoted on her right foot and came up with her left shin to kick the side of the bag with two swift strokes before dropping back for the double-punch again. She pivoted in the opposite direction, weight on her left side, to deliver two kicks with her right shin instead.

    When she landed, hair swishing in her ponytail, Rosalie had to keep from fainting. It didn't help that Joanna wasn't exactly in her usual workout gear—but perhaps this was her usual workout gear, considering this seemed to be a frequented spot of the gym for her. She stepped over to Rosalie then, straightening her shoulders, and highlighting the fact that Rosalie could see the divots in her collarbone, and the tense muscles in her abdomen beneath her sports bra.

    Rosalie turned swiftly to her own canvas pillar to keep from staring.

    Joanna pulled her fists up by the wrists and clapped her hand over Rosalie's knuckles. "Hit with the flat part of your bone here, and keep your thumbs out. Keep your wrist straight, so you twist at the elbow and shoulder."

    "Okay," Rosalie said, heat flooding to her ears.

    When she braced her fists in front of her, Joanna was pushed into the background of Rosalie's blood pumping against her eardrums. It followed the rhythm of her fists pounding into the punching bag before she ducked back and swung her shin up to the side of the bag. After repeating the system twice, she looked back at Joanna for confirmation.

    Joanna opened her mouth, but ended on a firm nod before heading to the rubber mats. Rosalie turned back to the pillar, and after releasing the tension from her shoulders with a sigh, she went back to beating the pillar up until the skin around her shins and ankles were sore and burning from the impact.