Fred coaches Kayla on how to tell Tom how she feels about him.
Kayla unleashed a right hook and then a double left. Kickboxing was good for venting frustration, Fred was right.
"Just call him up and say, 'Hey, Tom, I'm in love with you, too.' It's really not that hard."
Kayla pushed forward with a right hook. "Yes, it is hard!" She landed another right and then bent over, resting her gloves on her knees. Her breath came fast, sweat rolling down her temples.
Why? Why? Why?
Why her? Why Tom? It was like the fates had conspired against her. Or maybe it was her own idiotic fault for not telling Tom how she really felt about him.
"You all right?" Fred asked, ripping apart the Velcro on his pads. He tossed them aside. They thudded against the wall, the sound echoing through the room.
Kayla straightened and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. "You really think i should tell him how i feel?"
Fred nodded. "He deserves that much. He pretty much came out and told you what he was feeling and you've been practically avoiding the poor guy."
Kayla winced. She has been, hasn't she? That was eight days ago, now. Tom hadn't called her since. He also hadn't made a single appearance at the house.
"I should call him," she mused, holding out her hands so Fred could remove the gloves.
"You should talk to him in person, though."
Kayla paled, picturing it in her mind. How was she supposed to tell Tom she loves him straight to his face without stuttering or passing out or something else equally embarrassing?
Fred was right about another thing, she needed to be honest with Tom because he'd been honest with her.
Unfortunately, so much time had passed since that night, that Kayla worried he wouldn't want to see her.
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