Kickstart My Heart

Sometimes love comes from the most unexpected situations and in the most unexpected people... Kim "kjagain" Moes tells a delightful story of a sudden girl crush... But is it more?

“Come to kickboxing with me. It will be fun!” Kate’s words float in my mind as the sting in my muscles prevents me from getting out of bed gracefully. Thankfully, Kate slept on the couch last night and can’t see me struggle. She’s been trying to talk me into joining her kickboxing class ever since I broke up with my boyfriend. It’s been two days since my first class, and I’m still feeling it.

I tiptoe to the kitchen to avoid waking her. Kate wants to hit the morning class, and stayed the night to help persuade me to go. I was hoping she’d sleep in. No such luck.

“Alisha, you’re up! I knew you were excited about going to class again!” She winks at me sideways. “You’re already hooked, aren’t you?”

My face responds by squinching like a fish on an unrelenting hook. Thirty minutes later, we arrive at the gym. It doesn’t take long for the sweat running down my face to hide the few tears that also escape. Once again Kate, my best friend for like a hundred years, taking care of me between my failed relationships. She’s always there, within moments of any breakup, no questions asked. Whether offering to go camping, or jogging, or starwatching, and now sharing her long love of kickboxing. I often wonder how Kate seems happy all the time, even though she’s never had a boyfriend. Maybe it is because she’s never had a boyfriend. Or maybe it’s the kickboxing.

Sharing a punching bag, we knocked out several three-minute rounds of different combinations. Laughing, punching, kicking. I have to admit, it is therapeutic. I feel energized with Kate, like I can take on the whole world. “Take that, Mike!” Pretending the bag is my ex makes Kate’s eyes light up, causing me to punch harder, kick higher. 

In the change-room after class, several girls swap high-fives. In our corner, Kate cheers me on. “You are beaming, Alisha!”

“You’re right, Kate. My heart is pumping. I feel alive. But tomorrow...”

“It’s the adrenaline,” she says through her smile. “The more you workout, the more alive you feel, and the less achy you are the next day, I promise!”

And, once again, Kate is right. I’ve never felt out of shape, but in the following weeks I see my body getting harder, stronger, and healthier than ever before. When I reach for a peach from the fruit bowl, my biceps flex into pipes. Even my posture seems longer, leaner. Men approach me on my walk to work, at coffee shops, at the grocery store. Before, starved for affection, I’d fall for any guy who offered me any sort of attention. Yet now, I don’t have any interest. All I want is to hit class again. 

One night at the gym, I find myself admiring Kate as she round-houses the bag in slow motion with a gentle tap followed by several fast and close kicks. It is the most graceful and fierce thing I have ever witnessed. Those kicks cause my stomach to flutter, a billion bumble bees taking flight inside my being. A warmth spreads, like honey dripping from an imaginary hive. Confusion with a dash of shame lodges in my throat, causing me to walk away from her, and join another. Since nothing ever phases Kate, she kept kicking and punching in her fast/slow routine, no longer having to share the bag.

My mind wanders into dangerous territory, wondering if I am having an anxiety attack or falling for my best friend. I hope it’s the former, because there are meds for that. Am I going insane? The ride back home is quiet, the silence hot-boxing the car. I mumble a quick “Bye,” when she drops me off. She answers only with her smile, causing me more anxiety, more confusion, and even a little more adrenaline.

I skip classes for a few days, ignoring my phone. Next thing I know, I am digging out an old shoebox filled with photos of Kate and me through the years. Memories prance around in my head. That time we went camping after Brad and I split, laughing about the nonsense in this world. The trip to Tofino after Tommy and I called it quits, where Kate and I danced in the waves until dawn kissed the ocean. Or the time we hid at the ball field, after I broke up with Simon, pretending to be famous athletes, and sharing a few beers while she listened to me rant.

I spread the photos across my bed. On closer inspection, I notice that in all the candid shots Kate is looking at me. Every single one. Except the one from my sister’s shotgun wedding where I am looking at Kate. Does she like me in that way? Or worse, what if she doesn’t?

Missing the sweat, the adrenaline, and of course, Kate, I return to class. The past few days melt away as we sit on the mats. I mentally kick myself for being so irrational.

Later, I surprise Kate with a bottle of wine and some sandwiches. My heart turns into grilled cheese when she opens the door to let me in.

After we sit down, I admit my feelings. “I have to be honest, Kate. I think I’m falling for you, and it’s scaring the hell out of me.”

“I had a feeling, Alisha.” She pauses, grabbing my hand. “What if I told you I’ve loved you for quite some time?”

My heart skips a beat, but I have no reply.

“I couldn’t approach you, Alisha, or tell you how I felt. I know how your parents are.”

My eyes peer into Kate’s. I move in for a kiss, and she stops me. 

“What is it? Do I have bad breath?” I ask, cupping my mouth, my face turning as crimson as it gets during kickboxing class.

“No, Alisha,” she laughs. “Let’s take this really slow, to make sure this is what you want.”

That night, as she spooned me on the couch, I said, “Kate, I think you are the best snuggler I’ve ever cuddled with.”

“Don’t be silly,” she whispers, “I’m just holding on so I don’t fall off.”