Ben

Do you ever have those moments where life seems to move in slow motion? When something so amazing, so wonderful occurs that time itself stands still for you?

That's not one of those moments.

As Brit's fist hurled towards my face, my only thought was, "Huh. That's a fist."

A string of profanities slips out of my mouth. I reach up with my hand, wiping off the bloody trails currently trickling from my left nostril. And now I've got a bloody glove. Whoopee.

"Hey, what the—what was that for?!" I yell at my sister, causing a few heads to turn in our direction around the gym.

Brit rolls her eyes at me. "I seem to recall you asking me to go a round with you, did you not?"

I glare at her smug, little face. "I just put the stupid gloves on!"

"Well, maybe you should touch up on your reflexes." She flips her hair at me triumphantly, then skips away.

Thanks for 'going a round with me.'

As I start wondering what exercise to do next, I hear the door to the boxing gym chime open. I can't see over the row of punching bags blocking my vision, so I don't see who it is.

Shrugging, I drift forward to one of the unclaimed bags. Curling my fingers into hard fists, I fall into my usual rhythm. Someone claims the punching bag beside me, but my view of them is obscured by my own bag. The echoes of our punches add to the already-cacophonous swirl of noise that resonates throughout the room.

By now I've worked up a sweat, and the salty perspiration drips from my disheveled hair and onto the stone-cold floors. Someone coughs from beside me. I attempt to ignore it, but the persistent phlegm-hacking has me clenching my jaw.

Attempting to refocus on my workout, I pound my fists vigorously into the stiff bag. But before long, the coughing noises begin to intensify.

Running out of patience, I turn towards my mystery neighbor. "Hey, you—"

Autumn is keeled over, hands gripping her knees, ponytail whipping harshly about her face. Words fail me, and my mouth is left agape, mid-sentence.

She's been beside me the entire time?

Her breaths are coming in short, hard pants. Her skin looks slick with sweat, and is made even more obvious by her drenched t-shirt.

I stare at her in bewilderment. "What are you doing here?" Autumn flinches slightly, before breaking out into another fit.

I wince a little. "That came out harsher than I wanted it to be."

She looks up at me with her head tilted and eyebrows raised as if to say "Ya' think?"

Crossing my arms, I look away from her and mutter a short, "Sorry."

Finally regaining her voice, Autumn replies in a casual tone, "Whatever," and takes up her pace again as if nothing happened. Shock takes over my face.

"What are you doing now?" That elicits no response.

Stepping forward, I place my hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Atty!"

It's as if lightning strikes her. In a single moment, Autumn jerks out from under my hand, a look of pure terror flitting across her face, grabs her book bag from under a nearby bench, and strides out of the gym.

...Was it something I said?

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A/N: Weird question—have any of you ever taken the 16 Personalities test? All of my friends were doing it and they pressured me into it, too. That's what friends are for, right? Yay... peer pressure...

But anyway, apparently I'm an INFP-T. I should look it up because I have absolutely NO CLUE what it stands for. Maybe I don't want to know. It could be bad, like it could mean that I'm the type of person who stays inside and eats chocolate all day. (I'm not like other girls lol)

So, who's excited about Autumn's nickname finally being used? Why did she run off? Why was she at the gym? Ben was obviously not anticipating her being there.

I'm so sorry! I haven't updated in sooo long and I had stuff to do and please don't hurt me!