Tap, tap, punch

　　“I can do it better.” Ben snorts. “Watch,” I say and slap my phone against his chest, “and learn.”

　　My fists connect with the punching bag in a tap, tap, punch rhythm. I forget where I am and punch the bag like I have seen professional boxers do. I keep going at it until my arms protest and my speed slows. When I stop, my breath comes out short and heavy. It has been a while since I used the punching bag. Most of my fights mainly involve only the legs.

　　“What?” I snap at Ben’s prolonged stare.

　　He blinks like he is having trouble believing what he saw, I snatch the bottle of water someone rushes to offer me and take a greedy gulp. Aside from the state of this building, the occupants are pretty chill.

　　“Wow,” Ben says with open admiration.

　　“That’s how it’s done,” I manage to reply. I take another gulp. Shit. My arms hurt like hell. Weighs a ton.

　　“She will kick your ass, Kiddo,” the man from earlier screams. “Run while you still can.”