The Fighter

Chapter 4

|Andy|

My memories of what had happened at the fight were fuzzy. Where I was wasn't even on my radar, and what I was wearing? I had no recollection.

"She's finally awake." My eyes darted up to see Simon leaning against the doorframe. He looked tired and there were bruises staining his shoulders and chest. A cut split his left eyebrow and his lower lip had a small crack in it.

I sank farther into the bed, hoping maybe it was just a dream.

"Are you embarrassed, Andy?" I hid my face in the comforter and try to get the heat in my cheeks to subside. "Andy, look at me." His voice was a lot closer now. I peeked over the edge of the comforter and nearly screamed. Simon's face was mere inches from mine.

"What are you doing, Simon?"

"Kissing you." He moved down before I could react. It wasn't anything like books or movies ever told you. There were no sparks, no moment of breathless aw, no heated movements. "I'm sorry, I had no right." And with that he left.

I got up, looking for my clothes from the night before. When I went out in the hallway to see if I'd left them in the bathroom, I found a sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants folded neatly on the floor with a note attached. The note said they were for me to put on until I could go home.

Simon was nowhere to be seen. I'd looked everywhere in his apartment and nothing. I was perched on a tall chair in the kitchen, off in my own little world, when the front door slammed, startling me enough to almost make me fall off the chair.

"Did you almost fall off that chair?"

"What? Me? No." There was a cut on his cheek, slowly oozing out blood. "What did you do to your cheek?"

"I did have a fight last night."

"Don't act the fool; that cut wasn't there when we talked earlier."

"You don't need to know how I got it, Andy."

"But--"

"Just drop it." I didn't say another word the rest of the day. Not even when I was addressed.

"Andy, this is getting ridiculous. Talk to me."

"Why? So I can say something else to piss you off?"

"That wasn't it. I just didn't want to talk about it earlier."

"You need space I get it." And without another word, I walked right out the front door. I wasn't going to put up with the constant switched in the way he wanted to treat me. He wanted to give me the cold shoulder? I'd just give him flat out cold.

Monday was the next fight. I didn't speak to Simon at school and wouldn't even acknowledge his presence. I didn't talk to him at the fight, although I did bet on him.

I was rushing to leave before he could catch me, but Jack stopped me just short of the door. "What's the rush, pretty girl?"

"You, don't answer him. And you, don't talk to her." Simon pulled me away quickly, looping his arm easily around my waist. The second we were out of Jack's sight, I pushed him away.

"Don't touch me."

"Andy--"

"Leave me alone, Simon."

"No."

"Yes."

"I can't."

"You bloody well can!"

"No, I can't." He stepped closer to me and leaned down so that his face was closer to mine. "I don't know how you've managed it, Andy, but I'm falling in love with you.

"No, you're not."

"It's true; I am."

"Simon, stop."

"Andy, I--"

"Please, stop. We can't do this, Simon."

"Why can't we?"

"There's just... I, I don't feel well, I'm sorry." I made a run for it, hoping he wouldn't follow me.

"Being alone in the streets at night is a bad idea, Andy."

"It seems like every choice I make's a bad idea."

"Then make the right one now."