“My grief? I guess so. I might also just be hungry.” She had intended it to be funny, but Avery was silent on the other end. “Are you?” she asked tentatively. “Feeling it?”
She heard Avery breathing shallowly down the phone.
“I’m so angry with her,” Avery whispered. “Isn’t that fucked-up? I know I should feel sad, but mostly I just feel angry at her.”
“I think that’s…normal? Right? You should ask Chiti, she would know.”
“It doesn’t feel normal. I could hurt her, you know? If she was here, I’d punch her in the neck.”
Bonnie smiled.
“That’s a pretty weird place to punch someone.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to hit her face. Just get close to it, so she’d know I was really, really mad at her.”
“I get that. I’d punch her in the neck too.”
“Yeah, but you’d probably kill her if you did that.”
“Too late.”
The words hung between them, vibrating.
“How are you really, Bon Bon?” asked Avery. “How’s the…nightclub thingy?”
“It’s fine.” Bonnie shrugged. “I’m working tonight.”
Far away in London, Avery gave a little hum of dissatisfaction. “What are you doing there? We’re so not L.A. people.”
“Maybe I am,” said Bonnie.
But Bonnie didn’t think of herself as any kind of person, L.A. or otherwise. She had been a boxer for so long she’d forgotten to become a person. She’d chosen the city because it was far away from where she’d been training in New York and seemed like an easy enough place to get a job. She didn’t care if she liked it. She was only there to escape.
“Living in L.A. is like dating a really beautiful person who has nothing to say,” said Avery. “It’s fine for a while because, you know, look at them, but eventually you’re going to realize you need to be around people who read books and have their real noses.”
Bonnie frowned. Had Avery even been to L.A. in the past decade? How could she know what it was like to live there?
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” she said noncommittally.
The only place she had any fighting spirit was in the ring. Outside the ropes, it was easier to capitulate, especially with Avery, whose self-assuredness was like an anvil anchoring every conversation they had.
“You could come stay with us!” Avery exclaimed. “I know Chiti would love it. And there’s got to be a good boxing gym in north London.”
“I’m not training anymore. I told you that.”
“Fine, fine, forget the gym. You don’t have to fight if you really don’t want to. You could coach, you could become a sports manager, you could start a charity. Just remember who you are, Bonnie.”
Bonnie closed her eyes again. She suddenly felt very tired.
“And who is that?” she asked.
“Well, for starters, you’re a women’s world champion. I can’t even remember half the competitions you’ve won, but I know it’s a lot. You’re the strongest person I know, inside and out. And you’re my sister. Please note that none of the aforementioned descriptors include being a bouncer.”
“Except I am a bouncer. That’s exactly what I am.”
Avery was quiet. Bonnie could practically hear the machinations of her mind whirring, testing out which tack to try next.
“Nicky wouldn’t want this for you, you know,” Avery said eventually.
So, thought Bonnie, she had landed on invoking the wishes of the dead. A classic.
“She would want you to be doing what you love,” Avery continued.
Bonnie bounced her head softly against the wall behind her.
“Sometimes I hate what I love,” she said.
A beat on the other end.
“Even me?” Avery asked.
“Never you,” said Bonnie, though she knew perfectly well Avery would take her remark that way. That was, she supposed, why she said it. Avery made a noise between a hum and a growl.
“Well, I just love you,” she said. “That’s why I’m pushing you.”
“I know,” said Bonnie. “I love you too. Without the too.” It was what Nicky used to say to them. No too. Just love. “Look, I gotta go for my run. I’ll call you next week?”
“Mmm,” hummed Avery. “You can’t run forever.”
