Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
“No thanks,” Leo says, having apparently managed to pick his jaw up off the floor. He’s smiling and his big brown eyes shine as he looks at Rex with naked admiration. “I wish you would teach me a thing or two,” he adds flirtatiously, sidling closer to Rex. Then he sneezes at the sawdust smell and I snort. Rex doesn’t even seem to notice.
“I don’t like fighting,” is all he says. He squeezes the back of my neck, then goes inside.
I try to get a baseline on where Leo’s at. He can’t throw a punch, can’t block without losing his balance, and can barely seem to distinguish left from right.
“It’s hopeless,” Leo moans after about half an hour, his face red with embarrassment and exertion.
I eye his skateboard.
“Can you actually skateboard?” I ask, realizing I’ve never seen Leo on it, only holding it.
“Yes!” he fires back.
I put the skateboard on the grass in front of me.
“Stand on it like you usually would.”
He hops onto the skateboard and bends his knees a little to get his balance. I swing at him and he throws his hand up to block, but this time he stays upright. I do it a few more times and Leo stays balanced. He grins at me.
“Better,” I say.
“Yeah, now all he has to do is ask the person who’s about to punch him if it’s okay if he sets his skateboard down and stands on it first,” says Will through his car window as he parks. Leo’s face burns and his smile is gone.
“Fuck off, Will,” I say. “We’re just building his basic skills first.”
“Ooh, skill-building. Guess you really are a teacher, huh.”
Leo is looking at the ground, his eyes darting up every few seconds to look at Will.
“Leo, this total asshole is Will; Will, Leo,” I say.
Will walks up to Leo and looks him over. Leo falls off his skateboard. Jesus Christ.
“Hit me,” Will says to Leo once he’s picked himself up.
“Um,” Leo says unsurely, looking to me.
“If you’d spent any more time around him you’d already have taken him up on that offer,” I tell Leo.
“Are you su—?”
“Hit me!”
Leo arranges his hand into a fist the way I taught him and throws a weak punch from the shoulder, which would have landed somewhere around Will’s nipple if it had connected. Will brushes him aside.
“No, no, no,” Will says, “pick your heel up. No, your other heel. Bend your knees. Lean back. No.”
“Will, we hadn’t gotten there yet.” I shoulder Will aside and stand next to Leo.
“Okay,” I say. “You have to get the weight of your body behind the punch because you’re skinny, okay? So, widen your stance a little and, yeah, get your back heel up. Now you can lean backward to get some momentum, right?” Leo does it and nods. “Good. Bend your knees like you do when you skateboard. Duck your chin a little. Not so much that you can’t see. There you go. Okay, now lean back. This is like in baseball, how you start with the bat back to get more power, right? Good. Now relax your arm a little. Now try.”
Leo throws the punch and almost falls forward.
“Better,” I say.
“You’ve got to let him see how it feels to connect with something, Daniel,” Will says. “Fucking hurts. Here, Leo, hit me.”
“Yeah, end his modeling career, Leo,” I say. “Please.”
“You’re a model?” Leo asks, his head jerking up. Will rolls his eyes and flips me off.
“No, I am not a model. Now fucking hit me.”
Leo tries to replicate the stance, but somehow gets his feet all tangled up when he punches.
“Do it again,” Will says.
Leo repeats the maneuver a few times, finally landing a punch near Will’s chin. At the last moment, Will puts his fist up, so Leo hits that instead, and Leo drops to the ground holding his hand. Will shakes his hand out, not even flinching.
Will reaches a hand down to Leo, who blushes as he stands up. Will cups the back of his neck and Leo smiles tentatively, looking up at Will shyly through thick eyelashes.
“You,” Will says, shaking him a little by the back of the neck, “are a terrible fighter.” Leo drops his head.
“We just started,” I mutter, but Will’s right: Leo has no aptitude for this at all. Kid’s just not a fighter, and I kind of like that he’s made it to eighteen without needing to be.
Rex comes outside, hair still damp from the shower, and holds a beer out to Will.
“Why don’t we leave them to it,” Rex says. He must’ve been watching through the kitchen window.
“No way,” Will says. “This guy’s helpless. Can’t let him wander around like that. God knows what kind of trouble he’ll get into. Especially with that come-fuck-me smile.”
“Right?” I say to Will. For once we’re in total agreement. Leo looks mortified and Rex looks uncomfortable.