I enter into the gym, and my shoulders feel extra heavy. I’m just glad I remember all of the material for my seminar. I drop the stuff off in Alex’s office before heading out into the main room. Alex spots me coming out of her office, and she has a sour look on her face. “You’re late,” she says, but she stops herself. “You all right, Jonathan?”

It must be written all over my face. “Yeah, rough morning,” I say and attempt to perk up.

Alex shakes her head, “I have some equipment I need you to repair. Sorry, but it’s some of the boxing equipment.”

“Great,” I grumble at the thought of having to go spend time with the female fighters. I drag my feet over to the boxing ring. Laurel offers me a half smile, but I don’t return it. I’m not in the mood today. I have to replace the speedbag because one of the women busted the old one. I get to work, and already they start pestering me.

“Alex has got you doing grunge work again?” Marianna teases.

“Awe, too bad,” Britany adds, “I thought the soccer moms loved him so much that he’d get a promotion by now.”

“Come on, you both know he’s just a janitor,” Eleanor laughs.

“He’s good at his job though; you should see how clean the bathroom are here,” says Katie.

“Oh, I’ve seen his handy work. I can see why he left boxing to pursue his true talents,” LaWanda snorts.

It goes on and on like that, but I’m not in the mood to fire back after my conversation with Brandi. I completely cold shoulder them, finish replacing the speedbag, and then I head back into the gym. “Man, what’s his problem?” Britany snorts.

“You know what, you guys, it’s getting old,” I hear Laurel say as I am walking off, “give the guy a break… and seriously, Brittany, you left your nasty tampons in the locker room on the ground? You’re just a bitch. All of you, give it a rest.”

“Whatever,” I hear a couple of them groan.

I didn’t think I would manage a smile today, but a quick one passes over my lips to hear Laurel telling her girls to back off. It vanishes quickly, though, because I can’t get Brandi out of my head. Who is this guy she’s dating? Is he an athlete too? One of those pretty-boy dancers? A Brainiac type? Would he be good to my kid? Is he good to Brandi? Is she serious about him, or is he just some rebound guy? Do her parents know about this guy –do they like him? Honestly, the whole thing makes me sick.

I’m really off my game today, and Alex notices. She pulls me aside after lunch to talk, but I’m definitely not in the talking mood. I assure her I have the seminar tonight handled, but I can tell she’s not so sure. The female fighters disappear after lunch, which is kind of typical. They sometimes come back right before closing to take a dip in the gym’s pool once the professional swimmers go home; the fighters pretty much live at this stupid gym.

About two hours before my seminar is supposed to start, I head to the room to get set up. A lot of women signed up to come sit in, so Alex gave me one of the biggest rooms the gym has. I clear it out and then start bringing in chairs. I make nine rows that fill up most of the room, and I assume that this will be more than enough. I set up the slideshow, and by the time I’ve done that, Tyler comes waddling in. “What’s up?” he says. “Man, this gym is sweet. Women always get the best stuff. Damion should consider putting in a rock climbing wall.”

“Hell, man, have you seen the pool?” I say.

“There’s a pool here?” he questions.

I nod. “It’s pretty classy.”

“I’d say,” he sits down in one of the seats. “Is it kind of weird that I’m nervous to talk in front of all of these women?”

“You’ll be fine,” I say.

Soon the room is flooded; Tyler sits quietly in a corner waiting for his speaking time. As I suspected, none of the women fighters bother to show up despite me asking them to talk. I had hoped they would have something to say about the importance of self-defense, but they obviously don’t care. I give my little speech and do a demonstration; most of the women in the room are my students from the training lessons, but many of them have brought friends to attend the seminar. About twenty minutes in, I’ve covered most of the basics, and then I start the slideshow I had made. It’s all about the Battered Women’s House and my fundraising idea, and the women in the room go crazy over it. “I really need volunteers to help make this happen,” I say, proud to see just how excited all of them are about this fundraiser. I look up and, much to my amazement, I see the fighters all standing up in the back of the room –probably just taking a peek to satisfy their own curiosity. I continue addressing the women in the room, “the fundraising portion of the event will come from the marathon, so I’ll need help pushing that part of the event. As for the all-day self-defense training courses, they will be offered free to the public. Anyone –men or women –can choose to take a course. We want to provide people in the community with the tools necessary to defend themselves.”

The women clap, and I have to say this is an emotional high for me today after the shitty morning I had. “Thank you, ladies,” I say, “Now, before we dismiss, I’ve invited a friend of mine to speak. Everyone, this is my good friend, Tyler Roman.”

Tyler rises from his seat, and he clicks a button on my laptop to continue the slideshow. The picture from his apartment of himself, his sister, and Gabe pops up. “So, what my buddy Jonathan has been talking about tonight is a subject pretty close to my heart,” he says. “You see, I lost my sister a few years ago. This picture was taken not too long before she was killed,” Tyler paused for a second, and I wonder if asking him to do this was a good idea or not, but he presses on, “Um… well, you see,” he shakes his head and refocuses, “she was a waitress, and her car had broken down at work. She decided to walk home, but she was robbed. My sister, she fought back, but she was killed. I can’t help but to think that if I had worked with her the way Jonathan has been working with you ladies… well, life is full of what-if’s. The thing I want to stress is that self-defense is important. You never know what’s going to happen, and while what we are going to teach is not a guarantee –we want you all to at least have a fighting chance. My sister didn’t, but my hope is that if any of you ever do find yourself in a situation like hers, that the end result will be very different.” Tyler smiles at the large group of women that had formed. “Thank you all for listening.”

The women all clap, and I point them towards the main room at the gym where I have set up some lemonade and snack bars; I also tell them about the sign-up sheet outside the room where they can sign up to volunteer at the fundraiser. I look up to see if the fighters are still present, but they’ve had run out towards the end of the seminar. I roll my eyes, but much to my surprise, all of their names are on the sign-up sheet. I smile; I’m guessing that Tyler’s story about his sister probably did them all in.

I’m quite pleased to see that I have enough volunteers on the roster to get the ball rolling. This, I’m hoping, is a good sign.