Running Into Him

Chapter 1

Jacob's P.O.V

1. Swing left.

2. Swing right.

3. Dodge.

4. Tackle.

5. Laugh as he lies there, nearly unconscious.

6. Make some form of comment: "God, even your mum lasted longer than you last night."

7. Walk off, leaving the victim in question groaning in pain.

That was my usual routine, and although it got my name out on the streets, I was beginning to get a little tired of it. 

Maybe I should add in another dodge, give them some hope?

I snorted to myself, thinking of the last guy I so graciously allowed hope to. 

Nah, giving hope to the dweebs was never a good thing, because they suddenly think they have a chance. 

A chance, huh. I haven't had one of those in a long time. Who needs chances? Not me that's for sure, I don't need help.

Take this fighting - I do it myself, no friends, no buddies, no lame-ass managers. I just fight, win (obviously), take the money and go.

I didn't even bother sparing a glance behind me as people started coming my way. I groaned silently, I hate humans sometimes, I really do. 

They've just seen me beat some ass to the ground, and they still approach me? Do I really give off a rainbow and teddy bear vibe?

I don't think so.

As I walked home I checked my reflection in a car wing mirror; scruffy brown hair, green eyes, a scar on my cheek, abs that I'd gained through fighting - I didn't exactly scream adorable. 

And I was glad that I didn't. If I did, I'd be constantly pelted by Michelle and all of her pathetic minions.

 At least the whole bad boy image has it's pluses.

Making my way back home, I watched as people bothered to move out of their way in order to let me past. That annoyed me. What the fuck did they know about my life? I'm not Hannibal Lector or anything. 

For all they knew, I could just be a random guy with a scar on his cheek. One that happened by accident, not on purpose.

As I approached my street, I kicked an overturned bin on my road, allowing myself to swap the lid for an image of a certain face. Five minutes later, with the bin now unidentifiable, my anger was drained and I carried on walking.

I took a breath as I stood before the door to check that I was calm - on some level anyway. Yep, I was good, just about. I walked in and spotted my mum in the kitchen.