Tuesday
One
Until today, Phillip Gallagher, Lip for short, could safely say he had never witnessed someone go truly apeshit. This girl. She was the definition of unbalanced. Second only to Lip's younger brother, Carl. Out of the handful of people in the circle, this one most certainly deserved to be in the anger management class that Lip was currently enduring. He watched the girl, as did the rest of the group, with wide eyes and slackjaw. Backed away from the girl's assault on the punching bag, Lip watched in awe.
"Great!" the therapist crooned, clapping his hands, smiling brightly at the crazed girl's back. The therapist was a heavy man, wore glasses, and shaved his head. Wore too many sweater vests. Was covered in old Nazi tattoos that he swore he regretted. He seemed to genuinely give a shit if the kids in this group were awarded freedom from the courts. This guy could relate to them because at one point, he had been just like some of the kids in the room. This project had been entirely his secret idea. Probably the judge would have frowned upon acting out violence in an anger management course, but Mr. Danny Shelly thought letting off the aggression in a safe and watchful environment was a more effective idea than simply talking it out.
The bag swung back and the girl caught it. Out of breath, she collapsed to her ass, knees up, and held her forehead. Her bunned up yet falling, black-brown hair bunched wildly between her fingers. Sitting there, she looked twice smaller than the punching bag. Lip figured the girl weighed in at maybe one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. But she was tall. Probably five feet and around six inches. Had a model's body.
While the girl caught her breath, Shelly waved the other members back to their chairs against the back wall. He turned then, and reached out a hand to help the girl to her feet. She slapped Shelly's hand away and stood up, scowling. Ran a sweaty hand through her sweaty hair and grabbed the bottle of water from the floor. She drank it fast. Some of the water went down her chin and neck and fell onto her grey and red tank-top. Which was too large, cut around the waist, and revealed the lime-green bra beneath. The girl stopped, wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist, and then wiped her wrist on her jean shorts.
"Perfect example of subdued release!" Shelly applauded. "That, boys and girls," he laughed, "is your goal. Ten minutes of the best fight of your life! One with yourself. View the bag as an. . ."
And Lip tuned out. He was far too interested in this new kid.
Mouth quirked, he let his eyes follow the girl across the room to the door. She reached into the cubbies by the exit and into her spot for a pack of smokes and a Flick My Bick lighter. She lit up despite the sign behind her head.
Shelly craned his neck at the sound of the girl flicking the lighter. "Amanda," he called out, "no smoking inside. Can I trust you to not leave the campus if I hand over the building keys, so that you may use the back door?"
Amanda.
The girl rolled her blue eyes, cigarette dangling between her lips lazily. Tucked the lighter into her pocket and said, "Toss 'em over then."
Lip knew right then he was going to get to know more about this girl. Hopefully Amanda would be back next Tuesday. Because Lip was bored. And oddly turned on.