Under it I had on a plain gray cotton T-shirt.

I left the blue leather gloves lying where they were in the grass by my boots.

I tapped my left thumbnail against my knuckles twice while I took stock of the flat, open lawn around us.

I eased two inches forward into a loose, balanced stance, my elbows relaxed against my ribs and my chin tucked down.

“You’ve got five seconds to pick up your gym bag and walk home, Trent,” I said.

Trent spat on the grass between my boots.