Page 166 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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to Vass last night,” I reply,

“when they were blaming

themselves for my fall.

It was obviously my own

fault for being careless,

showing off and posing

like that for Vass’s photo.

But Coach lets us get away

with that kinda stuff.

He’s not like Mr. Ndour,

who’s always on our backs.

I have to admit.” I point

to my rainbow-bruised elbow.

“This makes me appreciate

the stricter adults in my life.”

I recall Mr. Ndour’s advice

“not to lose your sense of self

for any group, or anyone else.”

“Our boxing coach,

TJ, is so strict,”

Matt says dreamily,

in his own world:

the boxing gym

I’ve never been to.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, intrigued.

“Yeah,” Matt says.

“TJ inspects our hand wraps

after we’ve done them,

and if he thinks

they’re not good enough

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