Who She Is

~17~

Alyx's POV

Amaya isn't saying anything. I want to know what Lexi was talking about. All of it. What about her parents? Her getting into a fight with some girl last week? Jason was such an ass to her, too. He didn't even try to listen to her. And now I know she's definitely not a virgin based on what Jason said. I kind of already knew anyway.

Amaya lets a deep breath out, making me look over to her. She tightens her grip on the steering wheel. Her jaw is clenched, too. She looks so angry that I want to comfort her, but I don't know how. I also want to ask her a thousand different questions, but I don't know how to do that, either. I still feel a little hazy from the alcohol, but I sobered up a lot.

"I want to show you somewhere," she says, breaking the silence.

"Okay," I mumble, quietly.

Amaya takes a right down a dirt road and drives until she turns down a little cut off that leads underneath a bridge. People probably use this place as a fishing spot. She puts it in park and kills it, unbuckling her seatbelt.

She stares forward for a few seconds before saying anything. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice sounding sad. "I really am. I'm sorry she said that stuff to you. It's not true." She looks out her window. "I shouldn't have brought you."

"It's okay. It's not that big of a deal."

"Yes, it is. I don't want anyone talking to you like that." She crosses her arms. "Especially not that bitch." What? My heart skips a beat. Because we're friends? That's what she means. Has to be.

"Are you alright?" She did say worse to her.

She glances over to me and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine; all she did was pull my hair. I think she might've hit me in my side once, but I don't really remember right now because of the adrenaline." I didn't mean physically.

"I saw her scratch you. Let me look at it." I reach my hand out on instinct and brush her hair off her shoulder. It was so soft, even tangled. I lean toward her to get a better look. She lets a little gasp out and widens her eyes. I look in her eyes and finally realize what I'm doing. I jerk away from her and hit my elbow against her window. Damn it. I didn't even think, I just reached for her. Stupid whiskey. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I didn't realize she did. You can look," she says and pulls her shirt away from her neck. I gulp and lean towards her again. It's dark, but I can see her pink bra strap. I try to ignore it and focus on the wound. I see four little white lines on her collarbone. Lexi must have barely got her. It shouldn't scar.

"They're faint marks. You should be fine." I give her a small smile before asking, "Do you get in fights a lot?"

"Not a lot. I don't take any shit, though."

"Have you lost a fight before?" I question her more.

"I haven't really gotten my ass beat, but it's not like I haven't been hit a couple times, either. Most of the time, they get broken up, so I haven't lost one, yet. Usually, I'm touched first, but I always make sure I get a swing in. No one gets a free shot."

"How many people have you fought?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Maybe six. Less the ten. I'm not some delinquent that goes around beating people up. Well, I might be a delinquent but still." She lets a quiet laugh out.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I do delinquent shit."

"Like what?

"Alcohol makes you very talkative. You're asking me so many questions," she laughs, rolling the windows down. "And you don't need to know."

"Why not?" She turns her face towards me and sighs. "Sorry," I say with an apologetic smile. I'm such an idiot. I finally get a chance to ask her questions, and I chose to ask about fighting. "I was just curious." I pause to inhale before continuing, "I'm curious about what happened tonight, too."