“What're ya smiling at down there, girl?”


The deep voice of Coach Kennedy rumbled from the middle of the boxing ring and broke Terri's lovely daydream, dropping her back to the here and now, the sounds and smells of the old boxing hall where they were working on Alex's accuracy and footwork. With focus mitts on his large hands, the pair of them had stopped their routine to rag on the young boxer's latest conditioning trainer. She simply shrugged in reply, crossing her arms across her chest next to the ring apron.


Alex, the talented boxer, had been working exclusively with Terri for over a month and in that time his endurance, specifically his mental resistance and determination, had improved greatly. No longer was he looking for the easy option but seemed to gain that hunger in his eyes that all champion's possessed. However, with confidence came a natural arrogance, and it was this that Terri was having to rein in.


“Come on, sourpuss, something's got ya all happy. I can tell. Ya got a spring in ya step,” Since meeting after the first time Terri killed Alex in an hour's workout, Coach Kennedy had taken an instant like to the personal trainer, and paid her well for how she had helped Alex. Despite this, he would still like to joke with her as he did with all those around him, but was shocked when the petite little thing had started to verbally spar back. That truly endeared her to the rugged coach.


“Its not concerning you Coach, you should know you make me grimace.” Oh, and feisty. That was the other thing Kennedy liked.


“Ask her about the feather, Coach. She ain't stopped playing with the thing.”


That wiped the smile off of Terri's face. Had she been too open, not careful enough? Dammit!


“Oh really,” Kennedy smiles, looking from Alex back towards Terri. “Feathers?”


“Not that its your business, but I had a date, at an aviary,” she quickly lies. Well, its kinda true.


“An aviary? Well, not my idea for a hot date but heck, whatever floats ya boat, girl.” Coach chuckles, as does Alex. Terri, getting seriously pissed off, grabs her backpack and turns to leave the club. Reaching the door, she turns and yells back to the ring.


“Alex, tomorrow morning, seven o'clock. Time for another beasting, boy.”


His face drops and Terri cringes at the taste of the sudden apprehension and doubt that rolls off him, and she cannot help but find it as bitter as cheap-ass coffee. She's not usually one for harvesting in such direct manner but the two of them had riled her. Giving them the evil eye one last time, the steepscrambler turns and walks out in somewhat of a huff.