XAVIER

"Careful 'er, sport," Kenny says, watching me take a swing at the punching bag in front of me. "Steady now."

I'm sweating vigorously but I continue to push, throwing combos forward, then stepping back.

" 'At a boy," he grunts. "Now hit it with a three-way."

I do as he says, swiftly blitzing the bag and landing a rough side kick, causing it to swing backwards and fall off the hook.

"Ye done good," he says, patting me on the shoulder. "Ye done good."

I pant hard, trying to steady the rapid beating of my heart as I rip off the velcro gloves on my hands. My muscles feel cramped, and I can practically spot the veins bulging from my arms and my legs.

"Keep it up 'n you'll be ready for tomorruh in no time."

He walks over to the bag, bends down, then attempts to pick it up.

"I'll get it Ken," I tell him.

I can't bare to watch him pick that thing up, scared out of my mind his back will suddenly give out under the weight. I wrap my arms around the bottom, effortlessly picking it up from the ground and placing it back on its hook.

He sighs. "My bones can't handle this anymore."

Kenny is old enough to be my grandfather, give or take a few years. He may be old, but I can't imagine his personality being anywhere over the age of 20. He's an old-fashion biker; leather jacket, two sleeves full of tattoos, a motorcycle, and everything else.

Ever since he offered me Foster's place, he treated me like his very own son.

I self-consciously rub the small tattoo on my bare chest, staring at my naked skin compared to his. It's like looking at a blank canvas compared to a Picasso painting.

"I miss him too," Kenny starts, walking over to the small refrigerator by the brick wall and grabbing a water bottle and a beer. He hands me the bottle, cracking open the metal lid on his glass with his bare hands. "The world took 'em too soon."

I frown at him, opening the water and taking a long, hard sip. I never liked talking about him, and Kenny knows that. But it isn't my place to tell him what he can or cannot talk about. He cared about the kid just as much as I did.

"What if he was still alive?" I ask him. "What if he ever found out I became just like him?"

Kenny doesn't answer right away, gulping down most of his beer like a cold cup of tea. His short white beard grazes the glass bottle, and he unknowingly taps it against his chin emptying the rest of the contents in a single swing. "Say, I honestly don't know sport."

Sport. He always used to call him that. Now, he uses the nickname for me just as often.

I thump my fist over my heart, trying to stop the tears from falling down my cheeks.

"You really loved 'em," he starts. "I did, too." Kenny walks over to me and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. I let the tears fall, reddening my eyes and leaving me sulking on the floor.

I offer him a sad smile, trying my best to quiet my sniffles. I rarely ever cry, but I need this now. I need it more than anything. Him and I, we haven't talked about Foster in over a year.

"Yer a brave boy, Xavier," he tells me. "Yer tough 'n unbreakable. Ya got the heart of a lion." He pats the area of my chest where my tattoo is and I place my calloused hand over top of his fingers, letting him know I'm okay.

"Ye still wanna fight tomorrow?" he asks, making sure I'm good for Wednesday's brawl.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I won't let you down," I tell him, nodding my head. I stand up from my crouching position on the floor, eyeing our surroundings like I haven't already seen this place plenty of times before. "You cleaned it up," I tell him.

"Had to. The brawl's comin' real soon. Gotta make it look presentable."

"Who am I going up against?" I ask him.

He shrugs my way. "Beats me."

I hear my phone ring at the corner of the room. The screen lights up with a text notification and I try not to roll my eyes in front of Kenny, letting out an annoyed sigh instead and dragging myself over to the device.

"Gotta girlfriend?" he asks, snickering at me.

I immediately think of Delta, shaking my head in disappointment and picking up my cellphone from the workout bench.

"Nah," I tell him. "Just some girl I messed around with."

I feel him glance my way, but I keep my eyes on the screen.

"Ye gotta stop doing that, y'know," he tells me. "You break hearts like you break faces."

Ignoring him, I feel my phone vibrate in my hands, catching sight of another unread text sent by the girl I had been playing around with Friday night.

"Hey, I had fun this weekend ;)"

"Hello? Xavier? Where r u?"

"Baby, answer me plz!"

"Omg, I'm so close to breaking up with u. If u don't love me, just say so."

"Fine. U lost me."

"I want my fucking v card back!!!"

"Ur such a dick. I never want 2 see u again."

"Don't call me."

I read the last message she left, noticing three missed calls and an email all by her.

I have to be fucking honest, I don't even remember her name.

"Say something to her," Kenny tells me. "Apologize."

"I'm not one for apologies," I reply.

"So?" he mutters, shrugging his shoulders. "She deserves ta know how ye feel."

I sigh, giving in and typing a quick response, immediately pressing send.

"I don't love u. I'm srry."

"There. Done."

He walks away from me and takes a seat on one of the other workout benches, eyeing all walls of the room.

"Can't believe ye been here for four years already," he says.

I stare at the ground smiling. He's right, I started brawling when I was thirteen. Looking back now, my scrawny self definitely didn't think I'd end up as an alleged street fighter by the time I got to high school.

My phone begins to ring again, and I swear I'm going to block that girl's number—until I sea Delta's contact pop up on the screen.

"Holy shit," I whisper, blinking my eyes making sure I'm not just going crazy.

Crap. Delta Flores is calling my cell phone. She is calling me.

"Alright there?" Kenny asks. "Ye look like you just got shot."

Fuck me, I probably did just get shot.

"Yeah—no, I'm fine. I'm okay," I say, still staring at my phone screen. "I gotta take this."

I think he laughs, but I'm too distracted by the call that I can barely hear a word he's saying.

I answer the call and hold it up to my ear, waiting to hear her sweet voice on the other side of the line.

"Uh... Xavier?" she whispers.

"Oh my, how the tables have turned," I answer, wondering whether I put in a little too much suave with that reply. Should I have gone with "Hello" instead? Shit, I'm such a screw up.

She huffs and I can sense her irritation over the phone. "No," she snaps. "I didn't call you for a chase."

Her words may have been meant to hurt, but they just make me want her all the more.

"What did you call me for then?" I ask, curiosity dripping from my tone.

"I just called to tell you... I'm gonna come with you tomorrow."

My brows furrow in confusion. "What?"

"To the fight. I'm coming with you to the fight." She lets out a loud exhale like she just confessed something absolutely outrageous. And maybe for her, she did.

"Wait, really?" I ask her, with more excitement in my voice than I care to admit. "You'll come?"

"Yes, but don't push it," she calls. "I'm not changing my mind unless you make me change my mind, got it?"

I nod my head. "Yes. Yeah—okay. Definitely."

"Pick me up some time before eight," she snaps. "I'll be waiting."

Just a few weeks ago, she would've rather seen my throat slit than ever hang out with me. What made her change her mind?

"Delta?"

"What?" The sound of her voice screams, "fight me".

"Why do you wanna come?" I ask.

"None of your business," she retorts. "Maybe I just want to see your face covered in blood before I go to bed."

I laugh. "Not if I end up in there with you."

"Ugh, gross," she says, then she hangs up.

I run my finger over my phone screen where her contact name had been, flashing a smile full of pride before turning away.

"Kenny?" I yell from across the room. "I need your motorcycle for tomorrow."

He laughs, slowly walking over to me and placing a wrinkled hand on my shoulder. "Ye haven't gotten on that thing in a month," he points out, sticking an accusing finger at me.

"I need it," I tell him. "It's important."

"No. Yer not taking girls for rides no more." He wags his finger in my face. "I only got one helmet."

"So? I can handle it," I reassure him, banging my fist over my exposed chest.

"No," he says again. "If anyone found out I let ya ride that thing—"

"If anyone found out you let a seventeen-year-old street fight," I interrupt. "Just imagine."

He sighs, straightening the leather vest over his torso. "I tell ya what. You treat that girl a' yours right tomorrow, and I won't tell anyone ya stole my bike."

I smirk at him, holding out my hand for him to shake. "Deal."

He grabs something from his jacket pocket, handing it to me once our palms connect. I look down to see a collection of keys in my hand with a small purple rabbit's paw hooked to the bond. I wrap my fingers around it and give it a tight squeeze.

I never expected Delta to call me just to say she was coming with me to the fight. Hell, I didn't think she would even talk to me in the first place, choosing to ignore me and pretend like I wasn't even there.

"You be careful with her," Kenny demands. "There's somethin' about this one—"

"What?" I ask, interested in hearing what he has to say.

"She sounds like a real keeper," he shouts, walking off in the opposite direction and heading for the door.

When he leaves, I'm met with utter silence, listening to nothing else other than the hard thumping of my heart. I wish I could say it's the working out that's making my blood go, but that'd be a lie.

God, I want her so bad I ache.

I clutch the keys to my chest, closing my eyes and tilting my head back. She makes me feel so buoyant—so alive, I wish I could just have her in my arms one more time and never let her go. At least not again.

She's mine. She was mine the first time I saw her in that club. I really saw her, all racy and elegant, working that outfit so well my eyes drank her in like I was stranded in the desert, and she was the only drop of water for miles.

I need her. I need her so much, I hurt to be right beside her again.
I'm not used to chasing after girls, that's for sure. But this one—oh, this girl—she's giving me a run for my money.

And dammit, I'm loving every minute of it.

a/n; oh my f y'all the jonas brothers are getting back together. it's march 2nd right now and i'm doing extra editing but it has just come to my attention that one of my biggest celebrity crush groups are reuniting. my heart. it's not here anymore.

y'all, go check out they're new single. i forget what it's called but it's sweet as hell. i cry.