Chapter Two

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Two days had passed and kids still thought I was worth staring at. It was Wednesday and apparently every Wednesday we got out two hours early. To my advantage, I thought.

After school I went straight to my locker and pulled out my gym bag. Daniel stalked up and opened his locker. His hands shook and I saw there were marks lining his jaw. I froze and looked to him. Before my body could recoil to my thoughts I reached up and grazed his wounds. He froze and I noticed people staring. I pulled away and continued shuffling through my things. "Do you have any plans after school?" he asked shakily.

I stopped, what was he implying? "I'm heading to the gym, you can come if you'd like," I shrugged making sure I had all my stuff.

He stopped. "I'm not very athletic, or strong," he sighed.

"I could train you, boxing isn't hard," I shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow at me. I put my fist up to his face to show him the scars on my knuckled from getting in fights and training without wrap. He shrugged and grabbed his bag, flinging it over his shoulder. "Could I just watch?" he asked.

"If you want," I shrugged.

And after that we both stalked out of school together, people staring as we walked. Even though we barely spoke, it wasn't awkward. "So is Adam, like, your boyfriend?" he asked when we were half way there.

I couldn't contain a small laugh. He stopped to stare at me. "No, he's gay," I smiled at him.

When I realized I was smiling I clamped my lips together and walked on. "Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?" I asked, monotone.

"Whenever you show emotion of any sort, you stop. Like correcting a wrong you've done, every time," he said observing me.

"I have a dark past, emotions are out of question," I said, my voice flat.

"You're not the only one," he sighed.

I looked to him. Who was this boy? Why has he taken an interest in me? When we got to the gym he went into the boxing room while I went to change. I slipped on my Nike leggings, sports bra, and tennis shoes. I threw my red hair in a high pony tail and walked out. Daniel stared and I wondered why. I threw him my bag and he caught it with ease. I noticed that I was the only girl in the gym, and everyone was staring at me. I looked around for a sign that was like no girls allowed or Mens Gym. Instead I wrapped my knuckled in gnaws and started throwing punches. I soon forgot that Daniel was even there, I got lost. I swirled around punching, until I was bleeding through my wrap. Daniel put and hand on my shoulder, and only then did I stop. The whole gym was staring at me intensely. I looked to Daniel who was staring at me with a plain expression. "It's late, we should leave," he said simply.

I went to change into clean clothes and when I came back out I took my hair out. My knuckles were sore, but i've had worse. Daniel tended to my knuckles without saying anything. When we got outside the cool air hit me, I smiled. It was dark and I noticed I had extremely lost track of time. Adam would be worrying. We walked in the dark, past dark alleys and closed shops. "You're really good at fighting," he said.

"I've had lots of practice," I shrugged.

"I used to street fight," he said randomly.

I looked to him. How could a kid like him, who takes punches from white arrogant hormonal boys be a street fighter? "I still do every now and then to get money," he said, not looking at me.

I stopped walking and saw an open cafe on the corner. I looked to Daniel, who stopped, but didn't look up. Even though my mind was spitting acid at me, my hand reached out and took Daniel's. He looked up at me and I noticed there were tears in his eyes. I led him to the cafe and bought us some coffee. We sat at a booth by the window. "So tell me about yourself," I said looking at him.

He looked to me like if he said anything, he would start throwing up nails. He cleared his throat and looked out the window. "It all started when my mom died when I was ten," he began.

I watched him as he spoke. "My dad started drinking and got abusive. He even got fired from his only job. It was then up to me to get money. I started street fighting when I was ten. I made some pretty big bucks when I was twelve, since I could take down twenty year olds at that age. But I started paying the bills, supplying my dad, and if he got any sort of money he'd spend it on booze...he still does. I quit last year because I had lost for the second time in my life," he said looking to me.

"Second time? As in you've only lost twice?" I said shocked.

He nodded, I was surprised. I sipped on my coffee and I reached for his hand on the table. The tips of our fingers entwined and I noticed how warm his hand was. "And I still let him throw the punches," he whispered.

I grasped his whole hand with my own. "I let everyone throw the punches," he said putting his head down.

I then went to the other booth and sat by him. I wrapped my arms around him and noticed this was the first time i've ever really shown sympathy towards anyone. The cafe was empty except for the workers, who were watching us. Daniel buried his head in my shoulder and I rested my head against his. "So, tell me about yourself," he rasped, and then chuckled.

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