Page 30 of Drop the Gloves
“Ow!”Evan tried to jerk away from Barczyk, but he tightened his grip.“What was that for?I thought I was doing the hitting today.”
“Not like that, you’re not.Jesus, didn’t your dad ever teach you how to punch?”
“I don’t have a dad,” Evan grumbled.
“Okay, then your mom.Hockey moms are scarier than the dads.She didn’t teach you?”
“She told me not to fight because I might hurt someone.”
“Well,” Barczyk drawled.“She wasn’t wrong, but you’re just going to hurt yourself.Make another fist.”
“You gonna hit me again?”
“If necessary, yes.Do it.”
Evan did, though this time he dodged Barczyk’s swing.
“Ehhh!Wrong!Look at your hand, dummy.What do you see?”
When he looked, all Evan saw was his hand and not the mortal error Barczyk seemed to think he was committing.“My fist?”
“Yeah.And where’s your thumb?”
“In my fist?”This time he caught Barczyk’s mitt.“Stop that,” Evan said.He pulled the mitt off Barczyk’s hand and threw it across the gym.“What are you?—?”
“If you put your thumb in your fist and throw a punch, you could break your thumb.You’re trying to hurt the other person, not yourself.”
“Oh.”He looked at his fist, then carefully opened and closed his hand so his thumb was now wrapped outside his fingers.“Like this?”
“Hallelujah, he gets it!Now open and close your fist a bajillion times so you get it right.Both hands.I gotta go find that other glove thing.”
As much as it aggravated him, he did as he was told.He couldn’t complain about Barczyk treating him like a complete beginner, because apparently he was a complete beginner.He couldn’t even make a fist properly, for fuck’s sake.It made him feel like a rookie again…except that Barczyk never treated him like a ‘kid.’Sure, he gave Evan shit, but it was never about his age like most of the guys did.
They went through punches.Barczyk threw words at him like ‘upper cut’ and ‘right hook’ and ‘haymaker.’Evan didn’t bother trying to remember them, too focused on replicating the punches he demonstrated.Admittedly, it was satisfying to hit something and put his full weight behind it.He held back at first, not so much worried about hurting Barczyk but knocking him over.When he proved he could absorb the hits, Evan let loose.
After the hit last season and his brief flirtation with the Injury Reserve, Evan had worried part of him might try to return the favor.He couldn’t deny that he’d daydreamed about Barczyk getting his just desserts, and maybe even toyed with the idea of doing it himself.Not that he would initiate anything, but the fantasy had satisfied him in a primal way.
Now that he had the opportunity to do something, all he worried about was his form.
By the end, he was sweating and panting.His body twitched as new muscle memories formed, and he was sure he’d dream about fighting tonight.
Squatting down to rest, Evan tried to catch his breath.His arms were exhausted, and sweat was pouring off him.“I’m gonna call it a day.”
“Nope.”He looked up and watched Barczyk take off the gloves and then offer them to him.“My turn.Call it payback, but I wanna get my reps in too.”
“Oh.”He took the sweaty gloves and stared at them.“What do I do exactly?”
Barczyk flexed his hands and bounced back and forth on his feet while he jabbed at the air.“Put ‘em on and hold ‘em up.It ain’t rocket science.”
Right.Evan put them on, trying not to think about how Barczyk’s hands had just been in them.It felt intimate to share gear, even if it was borrowed/stolen.Evan wouldn’t share hockey gloves or skates or hockey socks or literally anything except maybe a stick.Now Barczyk’s clammy hands might as well be wrapped around his.
Evan ignored the desire for hand sanitizer.He’d have to shower after this anyway.Instead he held up his hands about eye level with Barczyk and waited.
Barczyk took one look at him and narrowed his eyes.“Seriously?”
“What?”he asked self-consciously.How had Evan managed to fuck up holding up a glove?
“What’s the average height of players in the league?”Barczyk asked.
