Page 32 of The Two Halves of My Heart

Chapter 10

Maddison Seventeen Years Old

Icouldn’t believe Oliver. He couldn’t deal with the fact that he was away from Grace, and so made up shit like she was unhappy without him. Well, screw him. She was fine. We were fine.

Except, I couldn’t forget about it. The idea of Grace not being happy haunted me. For weeks, I’d second-guessed the time we spent together, and when we were apart, the anger that was always lurking just under my skin was all too easy to provoke.

Just one more year, not even that, given we would finish by the summer for exams, and then I could stop busting my gut at school for something I didn’t want. I’d never have made it this far without Grace, and at least it was a reason to spend as much time as we did together.

I’d got the grades to study my A-Levels by the skin of my teeth, and luckily, Grace was more than happy to help me study. I needed it more than I wanted to admit because I’d have been kicked out for failing if not for her help. School was hard. It always had been. And I had no idea what I wanted to do when I was older. Apparently, we were all meant to have that shit sorted out by now. All I wanted was to play sport and be with Grace. Nothing else mattered.

As well as the part-time job I had at the same place as Grace, I’d joined a local gym with some of my mates. I was the biggest in our group of friends: the most muscle, the tallest, the fastest. It made up for my lack of book-smarts, and I wouldn’t let the titles I still held slip. So, I worked out. I lifted weights, I ran, and I did circuits until my body screamed for mercy. And I showed it none.

“Hey, kid.” An older guy stacked with muscle and dripping in sweat, with a towel wrapped around his neck, approached me one day after I’d finished my latest set. The room was empty, but for the two of us.

“Yeah.”

“You like to train, eh?” He had an accent that sounded foreign.

“I guess.”

“Seem to be here a lot.”

“And?” This guy was giving me the creeps.

“Ever been in fights?”

“Sure.” I puffed my chest out, thinking of the few kids I’d punched in my time. And Oliver.

“No. I mean, real fights.” He stepped closer to me, but I stayed still. This dude wasn’t going to intimidate me.

“No, then. Why?”

“Because you look like you could hold your own. A bit of training, and you’d look good in a ring.” Fighting for real? Shit. The energy I’d been working off seemed to hum back to life at the prospect.

“What’s in it for me?” I didn’t know what this guy was selling, but I wasn’t going to be some wimpy kid about it. There’d have to be a catch or something to his offer. But I couldn’t deny I was interested from the word fights.

“Money. Victory. The opportunity to beat someone senseless with no repercussions.” He smiled, showing me a couple of gaps where teeth should be, and I wondered if this guy was for real. His words sunk in, and my hands flexed automatically as if just hearing the words got them excited.

“Okay. I’m in. What next.”

The guy smiled wider, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d just made a deal with the devil.

“I’m Zuri.” His name explained the accent I didn’t recognise. “We will meet and train here. And then I take you to my gym. I show you the ropes.”

“And?” I prompted. He hadn’t mentioned anything about fighting.

“And if you are good, you fight.” He offered his hand, and I shook. He grabbed his wallet at the side of the room and picked up his water bottle. “Here. Text me your details. We will make plan.”

I shoved the card in my wallet and left it there when I got home. Grace was coming over soon to help me study. She was clever, just like Oliver, but she never made me feel stupid. She took her time to explain things that confused me, and the mental block that seemed to be in the way all the time, eased when it was her words and her face explaining stuff.

She was my best friend, and although we had differences, that didn’t matter. She’d been supporting me since we met—coming to my games, keeping me from killing Oliver, and now with homework.

“Mads!” Mum called up to me. “Grace is here.”

“Okay!” I knew she’d make her own way. She’d been coming in and out of our rooms since we were kids.

“Hey,” she greeted as she came in. “Are you going out?” She looked at my damp hair, her eyes trickling down to my chest for just a moment longer than they should. I fucking loved it.

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