My phone rings. I push it away and press a pillow to my face, screaming my frustrations into it. It is time for training. Ben has a match on Saturday and I promised to help him train. I fought his opponent once. He beat the s**t out of me but I lasted all rounds. If he wasn’t so muscled, I might have won.
The urge to pick the call and turn him down is strong but I left him at school with a silly excuse I can’t remember now. He had to hitch a ride with another jock. Was he able to pick Asher on time?
None of my business. I don’t want to see him again. I don’t want to be his partner. I don’t want to be anything to him. We are wrong for each other.
My phone buzzes again. I fling the pillow and a crashing sound echoes. I don’t bother to inspect the damage I might have caused as I push the
