Defender's Heartbeat 2

Chapter 2

Enzo

I'm in grade 11 now. New students had joined my class. The poor ones are clever at studying but have no money. I was thrilled they came, giving me a perfect opportunity to bully them too. There were two boys and two girls, I guess. I didn't know their names. I didn't care. But there was one girl with brown skin, short black hair, and glasses, who thought she was some kind of queen. Since the day she came to our school, she'd been working her ass off to be at the top of the class. I think her name was Ava. Teachers always said that ugly name because she always got good grades. She even did sports. I kinda hated that she was getting lots of good attention from the teachers. She was full of herself.

I wanted to do better than Ava in exams and tests, just to make her feel like crap. So, I worked hard at studying. Seeing her upset when I did better than her made me happy. Sometimes, I liked making others feel bad.

I didn't have a reason to get high marks in every subject. Papa (Gerado) only cared about my math grades. I didn't give a damn about my marks. It's not like I'd be struggling to find a job in the future. But I did want to beat Ava's scores. That would be fun to watch. Even though Papa threw me into Pedro's care, he still cared about certain parts of my life. Probably so he could beat me for fun, I guess. I think he enjoyed it. I was 17, but I still couldn't stand up to him. Pedro said he hated seeing me get beaten by Papa, yet he did nothing when it happened. He was scared of Papa, like the rest of us.

"Enzo, just tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it for you," Papa (Manuel) said one day, seriously, looking into my eyes after I got beaten by Papa (Gerado).

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Just give me the word. I hate seeing him abuse you all the time. You know I'm your bodyguard, and I'm ready to do anything for you. Just give me the word," he said, sending a chilling sensation down my spine.

"Papa, no. Do you think they'll let you live after that?" I asked, fear filling my voice as I held his hand.

"You're 17 now. You have Pedro. I don't care about myself. I only care about you," he said, touching my cheek with his rough hand. I was speechless, not knowing what to say.

"I want you to live, Papa. I want you to live. I only have you," I whispered, hugging him tightly as I sobbed.

"Okay, baby. But I'm always ready. You just have to give me the word," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

I couldn't believe he actually said that. I knew who he was, but he didn't know I knew his secret.

Ava

I hated Lorenzo. He was rich, living a luxurious life, a spoiled brat who didn't know the meaning of suffering from poverty. He had everything handed to him. Unlike him, I wasn't from a wealthy family. I worked hard at school because that was the only way someone like me could escape this misery. I wanted to do well and earn lots of money. I didn't want to end up like my parents, always struggling with money. That wasn't the life I wanted for myself.

I was thrilled to attend this new school. It was a dream come true for someone like me. I had studied hard for this scholarship, and I got the best marks among the four of us. I even participated in sports and did lots of extra work to boost my grades.

But Lorenzo was trying to make my life a hell in this school. When he found out I was striving to be first in every subject, he started to challenge me. I realized he didn't really care about his grades, but once he saw me consistently getting high marks, he suddenly felt the need to compete. He always beat me in Math and Economy, and the other subjects were a toss-up. It was almost like a 50-50 split. He didn't have a reason to study hard at all—he was the richest brat in this school.

Stupid girls were crazy about his looks, but not me. Sure, he was good-looking, but my dreams were bigger than him. I would do anything to stop him from getting higher marks than me.

Enzo

Since we entered grade 11, we have been getting surprise tests all the time. The day before, we had a surprise English test. That day, everyone was shocked when the teacher handed out the results. I came out on top—I got one mark higher than Ava. Yes! As soon as the teacher announced my results, I looked at her, as if to say, "How's that?" Ava looked furious. It was time to have some fun.

For about six months after they came to the school, Ava and I had a competition over grades. Sometimes I beat her, sometimes she beat me. But most of the time, I beat her in Mathematics because I always scored 100. The only reason I got 100 in Mathematics and Economics was because I was scared of Papa's belt. He had three belts to beat me. I wondered if anyone else had ever seen them besides me.

Sometimes, he used the leather belt he wore, but the other three belts were for special occasions, depending on how angry he was. He had a belt with stones that he used when he was furious. It was the most painful one, and I hated it. I didn't know where he hid it. If I knew, I would've burned all three belts—and every other belt he had.

To be honest, I still shook with fear when Papa took out a belt to beat me. I was glad no one saw me during those times because I was sure I looked pathetic. But when I went out, I put on a brave face, pretending I didn't care about the beatings.

As I grew older, I realized Papa sometimes beat me just because he hated me. It wasn't always because of something I did. Sometimes, he was angry and needed someone to take it out on.