The Hurting

Chapter 3

I use the two free lessons that I have after biochemistry to look around the campus more closely. I notice a small coffee shop next to the building I just had class in - just the thing to satisfy my coffee addiction and the perfect place to switch off and read.

After ordering an espresso, I sit down at a window and take The Great Gatsby out.

I've read this book so many times, but one sentence has burned into my head like no other, especially because I agree with Daisy Buchanan: "I hope she'll be a fool - that's the best thing a 

girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool."

As I dive into the world of the Golden Twenties and enjoy my coffee, I notice that Evans is walking into the coffee shop, holding hands with a girl.

What did Lara say earlier?

Jackson Evan. He is something like my ex-boyfriend.

How interesting to see that he already has a new one while poor Lara is still broken-hearted.

As I take a closer look at Jackson, I realize he has dark eyes that look hard to match his face. He is about 6'2 tall and looks well trained.

If I'm not mistaken, he's one of those guys who only have one-night stands. No wonder Lara said it was complicated.

For them, it may be difficult to understand; she is probably one of those girls who grew up with fairy tales, florets, and romances and who have been told that the world is a damn pink bubble.

They probably have not been told that bubbles could burst.

The two free lessons are over faster than I expected. I have always hated Physics, but I think medical physics is not the same s**t we learned in high school physics class. I hope.

When I arrived in the lecture hall, I realize that Lara also has physics with me. Since there are still free chairs left and right next to her, I just sit next to her.

"Girl, you're crazy. If you honestly believed that someone like Jackson Evans would do relationships, then you were damn wrong. "I smile at her. Her dumb look is just heavenly.

"What? B-b-but how did you .... well ... how do you know ... "she stammered.

"Believe me, I know and recognize guys like Jackson. I just saw him in the cafe. With another girl. He's a f*****g player. Trust me, it takes one to know one. "I say and shrug.

"Oh, then you also woo girls and promise them endless things, only to f**k the next one immediately after that?" Ask her coldly and with an unmistakable sarcasm.

"Uh, not quite. I don't woo anyone, neither girls nor boys and I make no promises when I know I can't keep them. This is just stupid and no fun. But I do a lot of fucking." I say and  I can't help the joking undertone at "Neither girls nor boys".

"So, you're the school mattress," she says dryly.

Who the hell does she think she is? I want to tell her that she can f**k off and that it's her own fault that Jackson doesn't want her. I want to tell her that nobody would ever want to start something with a cocky b***h like her.

But something holds me back. Maybe it's the fact that I wanted a fresh start when I came to Toronto and a fresh start means that I'm going to pull myself together and not bark at every asshole I meet.

I decide to take the whole with humor.

"If you want to put it that way? Personally, I prefer Playgirl. "

"If you sleep better with that thought, then please." She says with a shrug.

Alright, that's going too far now. I've already stayed calm not screwing her when she first called me a slut and tried not to take it to heart, but now she has crossed the line.

"And you wonder why Jackson does not want you? Believe me, girl, no guy in the world wants a biased, bitchy know-it-all like you, especially someone like Jackson. That's probably why you don't have any friends. Why else are you sitting completely alone in the classroom? You think you're better than me, but who gave you the right to judge others? You're not better. You're worse than a school mattress." I hiss at her.

It immediately achieves the desired effect. Her eyes are wet and she clenches her hands into fists. 

I give her an arrogant look before I get up and go sit in the back.

Physics was so boring. Admittedly, it's better than high school physics, but it's still physics.Lara stayed alone in the third row and from the back, I could see how she wiped her eyes constantly.

 You deserved it, my inner devil thinks.

On the way to the gym, I'm getting happier and happier. The last two lessons of the day are also the two lessons I was looking forward to the most. And after that incident with Lara, I need exactly that to cool down: Kickboxing.

In the locker room, I realize that only five girls, me included, chose kickboxing.

"Hi, I'm Jane." my new locker neighbor greets me.

"Liv." I answer and stow my things in the locker.

When we get to the gym, we see that the course is not just a bit, but completely dominated by guys.

Thirteen.

Thirteen boys and five girls.

Hallelujah.

As the creatures of the male species notice us, they are doing exactly what I expected them to do. They whistle. And smirk.

"Women! Finally!" one roars.

The need to hit him in the face is enormous.

"Shut the f**k up, Hernandez!" another guy shouts. Jackson Evans. 

Of course. Of course, someone like Evans chooses kickboxing.

"Silence!" a man shouts. He is tall, has short brown hair reminiscent of the military and does not look a day older than 27. His authoritarian tone suggests, however, that we are not the first course to enjoy his training.

"My name is Carter Havering and I want you to call me Carter. No professor, no mister. Just Carter." He pauses for a moment. "I really hope you are more competent than my last course. And just to be clear, girls: just because you are female you will not get a gentler treatment! If you ever get into a fight, your opponent will not beat you more gently just because you have ovaries."

It's official: I love this teacher. Finally a chance to show these testosterone-driven assholes that we are as good, if not better than they are.

"Who of you has ever learned kickboxing?" Carter now asks.

Me, Evans, the Hernandez guy, and three more guys raise their hands."Yeah, I know that you have, Jackson, you're going to sit this one out.", He turns to me. "What's your name, girl?" He asks me.

"Olivia Taylor."

"All right, Olivia, show me what you've got. Raul, come here. You two against each other. Off to the ring!" He says, shooing us in the direction of the ring.

"Don't break a fingernail, sweetheart!" a guy behind me calls.

"Quiet!" Carter yells "In kickboxing, everyone is treated the same and respectfully! So, if you do not want me to demonstrate some of my favorite blows and kicks on you, then be quiet, Anderson! That applies to all of you! "

Did I already say that I love this teacher?

I put on my boxing gloves and face Raul. He grins at me nastily, it's obvious that he thinks I'm an easy opponent. A huge advantage for me, if he underestimates me.

We'll finish him! my inner beast sings.

"Shake hands!" We bump our hands.

Raul seems to want to strike me K.O. with one punch because he came over with a straight blow in the direction of my face.

Moron, I think and dodge slightly sideways to answer with a sidekick in his ribs.

His angry snorting tells me everything I want to know. He is furious. That means he will  strike more uncoordinated, which is a huge advantage for me.

My theory is confirmed when he rushes to me the next moment and tries a front kick.

Which I block with my fist. My roundhouse kick goes straight to his head and sends him to the ground.

Now that was easy , my inner devil laughs while Raul - still lying on the ground - moans and holds his right temple.

"Seems like we have a real fighter here!" Carter says, his astonished undertone clearly audible while he helps Raul to his feet again.

The girls look impressed, half of the boys shocked, the other skeptical. Evans stares unimpressed at the floor.

For the rest of the lesson, we watch another fight and practice punches on the punching bag while Raul is trying to stab me to death with his glances the entire time.

As we put the punching bags back into the equipment room, Carter comes up to me.

"You are really good. How long have you been training?"

"Six years."

"Not bad!" He sounds impressed. "Maybe you should train with Jackson, he's been doing six or seven years of kickboxing and has been looking for a long time for a training partner who can put up with him."

"Uh, yes, sounds good." It doesn't sound very convincing.

On the one hand, it's good that I can train with someone without really having to take his inexperience into account, on the other hand ... I do not know. Somehow, I have an unpleasant tingling sensation in my stomach when I think about it.

"Don't worry, Jackson is very nice," Carter, who obviously noticed my hesitation, assures me.

Unsure of what to say, I just nod.