Girlfriend for Hire

Chapter Five: Striking Out

Sam

Jackson and I circled each other in the ring, the familiar scent of sweat and leather filling my nostrils. My thoughts were far from here, though. They were back on the field, watching Rachel and Kyle, their laughter echoing in my ears like some twisted soundtrack. My fists clenched tighter as I remembered Rachel's eyes glancing my way, the pity in them almost unbearable.

"Harper, focus!" Lena's voice cut through my haze, but I barely registered it.

Jackson lunged, and I dodged, but my movements were mechanical. All I could see was Rachel. Perfect Rachel, with her blonde hair catching the sunlight just right and her stupid heterochromatic eyes making her look like she belonged on a magazine cover. I couldn't get the image of her and Kyle out of my head. Every laugh, every touch felt like a slap to my face.

Jackson came at me again, and this time, I countered with a swift jab to his side. He grunted, but I didn't ease up. I twisted his arm, using every ounce of my frustration. I was tired of being the side character in my own story. The one who was always overlooked, always second-best.

"Sam, enough!" Lena's voice was sharp, snapping me out of my trance. I looked down to see Jackson on the ground, grimacing in pain as I twisted his arm too far. I released him instantly, horror flooding through me.

I pulled off my gloves and tossed them aside, not bothering to apologize. I jumped out of the ring, grabbed my coat, and headed for the door.

"Harper!" Lena's voice followed me. "What the hell was that in there? You could've injured the man."

I turned around, my anger boiling over. "Someone's got to put Jackie in his place when he mouths off."

Lena's eyes narrowed. "No, someone's gotta put you in yours. I don't want to see you in my gym again unless you're going to leave that attitude where you got it."

I stormed out, the cold air hitting me like a slap. My mind was a whirlwind of anger and frustration. I needed to blow off steam, and there was only one place I could think of-the junkyard.

The junkyard was a chaotic mess of rusted metal and shattered glass, a graveyard for forgotten things. It was my sanctuary. I found Liam there, as usual, swinging a bat at a row of glass bottles lined up on an old car hood.

"Hey, Sam," he called out when he saw me. "Wanna have a swing at it?"

I rolled my eyes but took the bat without a word. I smashed the first bottle with one hit, the sound of breaking glass music to my ears. I moved down the line, shattering bottle after bottle, each swing releasing a bit of my pent-up anger.

Liam whistled. "Boy trouble?"

I chuckled darkly. "Girl trouble."

"Yikes," he said, wincing.

"What's yikes supposed to mean?" I snapped, my irritation flaring up again.

"Just that you should be like me-no strings attached, no commitments, no problems."

I snorted. "What about that dork you're always around?"

"You mean Whispering Pines' first lady?" he grinned. "All she does is my French homework."

I leaned on the bat, counting on my fingers. "And your biology homework, and your math homework, and your geography homework."

Liam laughed, throwing up his hands. "Alright, what's your point, smartass?"

"Dude, you're smart. Why do you need to torture a nerd to do your homework?"

He smirked, taking the bat from me and smashing another bottle. "Because while she does my homework, I can come here and do this."