Jayden hit the heavy bag three times before he saw Elle at the gym door. His knuckles stung through the wraps. He wanted to marry that girl one day. He also wanted to punch a hole through the wall every time she looked at him like she was looking at him now — half-smiling, waiting for him to say something real. He dropped his hands. "You came." "You asked me to." Elle stepped inside. She wore the yellow shirt he'd told her he liked, two weeks ago, in a mumble she probably hadn't caught. He noticed. He always noticed. He grabbed his water bottle so his hands had something to do. "There's a thing tonight," he said. "At the park. They set up those big dinosaur statues for the kids. The green one with the little arms. Whole herd of them." Elle waited. "People are going," he said. "People," she repeated. "Yeah." She crossed her arms. Jayden watched her face close up the way a door closes. He'd done it again. He'd meant: come with me. He'd said: people are going. He wanted to slam the bag until his wraps split. "Jayden." Elle's voice was flat. "I'm tired." "Tired of what." "Of guessing." She uncrossed her arms and then crossed them again. "You bought me coffee Tuesday and didn't say a word. You texted me a picture of a sunset with no caption. You just invited me to a park with, quote, people. I don't know if you like me or if I'm your buddy or what." His jaw locked. The heat came up fast, the way it always did — chest first, then hands. He heard his own breath in his ears. He could feel the sentence he wanted to throw at her forming, sharp and wrong. He turned and hit the bag once. Hard. The chain rattled. Elle flinched. "Okay," she said. She turned toward the door. "Wait." She stopped, but she didn't turn around. Jayden pulled the wraps off his hands. His fingers shook. He walked around in front of her so she had to look at him. "I like you," he said. "Not as a buddy. I want to take you to the park tonight. Just you. I'm asking you. That's what I meant every time." Elle's eyes searched his face. She didn't smile yet. She didn't say yes. "I saw you hit the bag," she said quietly. "When I said I was tired." "I know." "That's the part I'm scared of, Jayden. Not the coffee. Not the picture." He swallowed. "I know." She nodded once, slow. "I'll go tonight," she said. "But we're going to talk about that." She pointed at the bag, still swinging on its chain. Then she walked out. Jayden stood alone in the gym. He had a date. He also had a problem he couldn't punch.