Call Me A Liar [Book 1] (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

18

Justin is worried about his fight this coming Saturday. He tells me that it's been about six months since his last, so he's not feeling as on his game as he normally would be.

"Do you do this a lot?" I ask.

He shrugs. "When I was more serious about it, I'd say maybe once a month. But I try not to as much anymore."

"Why not?"

"It's not really fun anymore. Not to mention, it hurts," he laughs.

I feel my stomach turn, remembering the feelings I had when Patrick and I watched a match on TV. My first thought was Justin, and how scared I was for him to face something like that by choice.

Then, I didn't have the pleasure of knowing him on the level that I do right now. And right now, I'm feeling worried. I don't want him to get hurt.

So when I don't answer, he offers me another smile to ease my mind, saying, "It's really not so bad. It's usually over before I know it."

"Why do you do it?"

We've changed positions on the couch since a couple of hours ago. Now, my knees are pulled into my chest and he sits closer, his arm hanging over the back of the couch with his head resting on his arm tiredly now and again.

In response to what he correctly assumes is concern on my face, he gently begins running his fingers through my almost-dry hair. He does it so lazily, but it feels so pointed and intentional at the same time. He wants to ease me.

"Jane, I have to make a living somehow," he replies. I know he doesn't mean it aggressively, I can tell by the softness in his tone.

Silently, I come to the conclusion that working at the gym must not be enough to support him. My stomach sinks. I feel stupid for even asking him that question. Not everybody is given life on a silver platter, but how would I know any better? I've never been allowed to be around anyone who isn't provided with those luxuries. It makes me angry at my parents for sheltering me.

The realization that we're from two very different worlds hits hard this time. Not in a way that deters me from him or in turn, makes me want him more. This time, it's just a shitty feeling with nothing more to it.

"Do you know who you're fighting?" I try to move away from the topic of money, though I'm not sure I want to talk about this either.

"Yeah. It's a little crazy, actually. Do you by chance know Ken Rhodes?"

I shake my head, never hearing that name before.

"I'm sure you know about all of those kid murders from, like, thirty years ago, right?" he asks.

I have no clue what's going to come from his lips next, but I'm kind of scared. Any time anyone has ever spoken about the unsolved child murders, it's a given that my body will flourish with chills and uneasiness.

I only nod.

"Even though he was never arrested for it, everyone thinks Ken did it. Everyone in Redlake, anyways," his voice stays soft. "I hope this doesn't sound mean, but he's not very smart. He dropped out of school in sixth grade and doesn't really talk much. Everyone thinks he's weird, so he's had a target on his back his whole life."

"You don't think he did it?"

Justin shrugs, his eyes looking tired now but still attentive. He's fighting off his exhaustion like I am. "Honestly, I don't know. I know he's an easy out for the whole thing, but I just don't think he would do something like that. There's no reason at least."

"Is there ever really a reason to kill a bunch of little kids?" I retort.

"Fair," he stifles a laugh. "Anyways, his son is the one that challenged me to a fight. I didn't even know he had a son until two months ago."