Alyssa ♔
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When I was little, The Palisades felt like my safe haven, a place I'd never dream of leaving, but now that I'm older–and somewhat more mature–it is starting to feel like a cage.
Hundreds of palm trees whiz past the window, and instead of seeing the beauty in their vibrant green palms, it all seems so contrived–so empty.
"What's with you today?" Justin asks, making a left turn. "It's like you're somewhere else."
I turn to look at him. Our day at the beach was supposed to be his way of apologizing, but all it has done is reminded me he's not the same boy I fell in love with; I'm not the same person he did. And worst of all, he doesn't even know it yet.
"Nothing." I readjust my ray bans and turn back to the window. "I'm just–" I sigh and turn to face him again. "Aren't you tired of doing the same thing every day? Of seeing the same things? We drive down this boulevard every weekend. We go to the same beach and eat at the same places. We see the same people. I feel like there has to be more."
Justin furrows his eyebrows in a way that tells me he doesn't get it. Maybe he doesn't–for someone like him, this town is as good as it gets. He's worshipped here, treated like royalty thanks to his dad's wealth and status. But anywhere else, any other city or town, he'd be just another fish in a very big pond.
"Like what?" he asks. "You think you're gonna find anywhere better than here?"
I shrug and say, "Maybe I won't. Maybe there's nothing out there that could possibly be better than this." I sit up straight now, suddenly filled with this wave of hope. "But what if there is?"
Justin shakes his head, and the hope is lost. "I just don't understand you lately," he says. "You act like nothing is ever enough for you."
I sink into my seat. Maybe he's right and I'm being ungrateful, maybe I should be satisfied with what I have. But I'm not. I'm not satisfied.
***
When I get to the gym that evening, I'm excited. It's taking a lot for me to keep on pretending, but here, I don't have to. There's no Justin or Marnie or overbearing parents; there's just me and a punching bag.
I run up the steps and into the gym, surprised to find Hayden and Maddie still here. They both look over, and while Maddie smiles, it doesn't reach her eyes. She finishes up her conversation before walking over.
"Hey," I say. "Everything okay?"
She bites her lip. "You want to train together?"
I raise my eyebrows and nod. She leads me over to one of the mats and lowers herself into a plank. I copy her movement, realizing it's much harder than it looks.
"This place isn't doing so well," she says after a while. "With all of the free memberships Hayden likes to give out, this place makes hardly any money. Half of the equipment has broken, and we can't afford to replace it. Hayden's stressing."
I go to speak, but my body is shaking so much under the strain that I have to sit up first. "I can help," I say. "How much would you need for the equipment?" It's not like I just go around handing out money, but this gym is the one place I'm able to escape to; I don't want to lose it.
Suddenly, Max, who is training in the weights area next to us, lifts his head to look at me. His eyes meet mine and study me curiously.
"I already offered to help put some money toward it," Maddie says. "Hayden won't accept it."
I think for a moment. I get Hayden not wanting to accept the money, but I still want to help in some way, still want to be useful. My whole life, I have never done anything to help someone else; maybe it's time I start.
"Well, why don't you start charging during the nights people come to watch you spar? I bet that would rake in money."
Max walks up behind us, and I tense. For some reason, being so close to him always makes me hyper-aware of myself. "That wouldn't work," he says, looking at Maddie. "You have to have a license to host and make money from fights."
I bite my lip while I think of another solution. Max shifts his gaze from Maddie to stare at my mouth. "What if we have it at my house?" I ask. "I could throw a party and have people pay to enter, and, oh look, there just so happens to be some kids sparring in the backyard. All the proceedings would go to you guys, obviously."
Hayden walks over now, those green eyes intense. "Why would you help us?" he asks. "You hardly even know us."
I shrug, able to feel Max staring at my profile. The truth is, having money can make you feel without purpose, but now that I'm on the brink of losing it, I'm forced to think about what I would do if I didn't have this money behind me. If I had to worry about losing my livelihood.
Max was right, I've always had everything handed to me, so I've never needed to work. I have no real skills or hobbies, nothing that defines me; maybe this is my defining moment.
"Is knowing someone beforehand a requirement of helping them?" I ask.
Hayden smiles. "I guess not."
"Then it's settled," I say, smiling back. "This Saturday at my house. Who's going to be fighting?"
"I will," Max says, and I look at him. Up close like this, I see that his thick, dark lashes are long, but it just makes him all the more beautiful.
"I will, too," Hayden says. It's the perfect solution for someone like Hayden, who seems to have a lot of pride. This way, he's not just receiving a handout, he's earning it.
I nod and say, "If we can somehow find you an opponent from The Palisades, it would be more of an incentive for my friends to watch." In my head, I'm already thinking up ways I can convince Justin to fight again. It shouldn't take much persuading, despite his last failed attempt. The moment I mention Max is fighting, he'll jump at the chance. "My boyfriend would probably be game."
"You think you can set it up?" Max asks.
I nod and he grins, which makes my stomach burst with butterflies. It's so rare to see him smile–especially at me–that I can't help it.
"All right," Hayden says, and it looks like a weight has lifted from his shoulders. "We'll talk about it properly tomorrow." He looks at Maddie now, grinning. "Maddie and I have a date to attend." He grabs her hand, and she smiles in return before the pair of them say their goodbyes.
"They are far too cute for my liking," I say, watching them. When I turn back to Max, I see he's not watching them, but me.
"That was nice of you," he says, sounding serious. "Offering to help like that."
I can tell from his face that I've surprised him a little, and made him think twice about me; I realize I like it. "I'm a nice person."
The corner of his mouth twitches. "Modest, too."
I ignore him for a moment as I tie up my hair. "You know, it's funny that it's considered kind to compliment other people, but we're against people complimenting themselves." When I look at him, he is looking at me with an expression that sits somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "What?"
He smiles now. Not a half-smile or an almost smile or something discreet, but a grin so big, all I can see are dimples and pearly-white teeth.
"I just can't figure you out," he says. "You're an enigma."
"I thought you'd already figured me out," I say, feigning confusion. I hold up my hand and start to list off all the things he'd said about me. "I don't know the meaning of hard work, I'm high maintenance, I come to the gym in three inches of makeup–"
He playfully grabs my fingers to stop me from counting. "Those are still true," he says, and when I look at him, there's a wicked gleam in his eye.
He drops his hand like he's realized he's touching me. I'm suddenly aware of how close we're standing, so I move away and over to the weights area, picking up some of the lighter ones. He does the same but goes for the heavier set. He lifts them and smirks at me, clearly showing off, but I swear, my heart jumps.
This can't be good.
A/N
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