Page 37 of 4th Degree

“Thanks,” he breathes out, visibly relieved. Then he’s immediately rushing toward the exit. “I'll be in for pro training tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder.

The door slams shut before I can respond.

Sighing, I turn my attention back to Skylar. “Let's keep going.”

“I can do the mats,” she offers.

I shake my head. “You don't have to do that. Tonight's not your night to clean. I'll just do them when we're done here.”

“Our deal was that I'd do them any night I'm here until the last class. So, I'll do them.” She hesitates, then adds, “Let me earn my keep.”

I deflate, too tired from the insanity of my day today to argue. “We'll split the work. We're already going to be here too late since we started late, so we might as well get it done as quickly as possible. But I appreciate the help.”

Once we’re done with our lesson, we separate to get started on the cleaning. I move to the heavy bags while Skylar sweeps up, and at the same time, we head to the supply closet to grab the sprayer and some mops. We're silent as we take up our space on the mats, with me untangling the hose for the cleaning solution and Skylar leaning on her mop as she waits for me to spray.

And then, for the third time tonight, the universe hands me the shit end of the stick. Because the sprayer is broken.

I let out an aggressive, muttered curse. These things are fucking expensive, but they're worth every penny because of how much quicker they make the cleaning process.

Which is now going to take forever.

“Do you have another one?” Skylar finally asks after I fumble with the hose connection for a minute.

“No,” I grumble. I'm going to have to do it manually now.

“What do you need?”

I let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t have any spray bottles, so we’ll have to drip the cleaning solution onto the mats and spread it with the mops.”

She doesn’t even hesitate, she just nods and rushes to the supply closet for two mops.

It’s slow going, made even worse by our painful silence. It takes us almost three times as long to clean the mats, even with the two of us doing the work, and the whole time, I find myself wishing we could talk and laugh easily again. But I can’t open that door. Especially not when with every passing glance, I feel tension lingering between us.

It’s past 11 p.m. when we finally finish. I’m physically tired, mentally exhausted, and I just want to get out of here.

But after Skylar and I close up the gym, I realize the universe has one more decision left to throw at me today.

14

COACH

Standing on the sidewalk where we usually say goodnight, and where I always watch her walk to the bus stop at the end of the street, it hits me that it’s way later than it usually is when we do this.

I don’t doubt that Skylar knows what I’m thinking, because she’s already looking for an escape route. But before she can bolt, I say what I haven’t said since that first night, when she asked me not to try to take care of her.

“It’s late. Let me give you a ride home.”

She glances toward the bus stop again.

“I told you, I don’t need to be?—”

“Skylar. Just let me drive you home. Don’t make me beg.”

That puts an end to her fight. Eyes widening, she only hesitates a moment before giving me a small nod.

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you.”

With her finally agreeing to my offer, the tightness in my chest loosens, and I let out a heavy breath. I’m not sure if she sees my relief, but I jerk my head in the direction of my car.

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