Page 1 of Fight for Me

PROLOGUE

JENNY – 14 YEARS OLD

I move through the school hallway, passing over wandering students, careful not to run into anyone. Loud music is blaring through my headphones, and I heave a sigh of relief as I exit the building. However, that feeling is short-lived when I sense a little tap on my shoulder. For a second, I consider ignoring it, but it’s not like I’m in a rush to get home.

Without removing my headphones, I turn my head to the side and am not surprised to find the new girl, Claire, standing close, her weight shifting from side to side as she nervously bites her lip. She starts to babble something, gesturing wildly with her hands, almost smacking me in the face in the process. Then she waits for my answer with a hopeful expression on her face.

Trying to look bored, I slowly get one of my headphones out and ask, “Did you say something?”

Not looking even slightly deterred by my rude behavior, Claire repeats as if rehearsed, “Hi, Jenny. I’m sorry to bother you again. But I heard about a party happening today at the Mill, and I wondered if you could take me with you. Of course, assuming you are going.”

“I am,” I respond noncommittally, as I am already putting the earpiece back into my ear and turning to walk away. Before I can take even two steps, I feel another tap on my shoulder. With a sigh, I look up to the heavens.God, give me patience.

The Mill is what we call an abandoned place on the outskirts of Bell Ridge, a small town my family moved to after my father was discharged from the army. The place used to be a farm belonging to Old Man Sturgis, who was a mean, old fart. But after he moved to Florida to retire, the place got turned into a party spot for horny teenagers and a safe space for questionable characters to enjoy their illegal activities.

I have no idea why everyone is calling it the Mill, as there’s no fucking mill on-site, but whatever. The point is, I have no clue why a girl like Claire even wants to go there with me. It’s a dump.

I go there almost every Friday, sure, but I’m not what people would call a respectable kind of girl.

Beautiful little girls like Claire never want to be anywhere near me, however, since she moved here from fuck-knows-where, the girl made it her mission to befriend me. She spotted me last week on the first day of school, while I was eating my lunch alone in blissful silence. I don’t know what gave her the indication that I would like some company, what’s with me wearing the usual “don’t fuck with me” mask on my face, but she decided to join anyway.

Even though I didn’t show any signs of being interested in making her my new best friend, she started to follow me around like a puppy after that.

What irritates me the most is the fact that I’m starting to find her presence oddly comforting, and I hate getting comfortable around people. That’s when the ugly side of them unveils, and that’s when they can strike out. Better to keep my guard up.

With that in mind, I stop again and this time Claire goes around me, blocking my way. She looks up at me with an eager smile, and I remove both of my headphones before crossing my arms. I give her a hard stare, hoping for her to run, but she only stares back at me, unblinking.

Jesus Christ, she’s impossible.

When her intense stare starts to freak me out a little bit, despite myself, I break and finally ask, “Why do you even want to go to the Mill? The place is terrible, and I’m not good at babysitting.”

She laughs, like I’m hilarious, and replies with questions of her own. “Why wouldn’t I go? You’re going. And a babysitter? We’re the same age, dummy.”

“Maybe so. But it isn’t exactly a place for a girl like you.”

“A girl like me?” Claire asks, genuinely confused, with a hand on her chest.

I scoff and put my hands on my hips. “Oh, come on. For one, you’re sweet and nice, so I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be seen with a mean skank like me in a place like that. Maybe go find some cute little friends, I don’t know, in a library or something, and leave me be.”

“So you think I’m sweet?” She grins adoringly as she rests her chin on her clasped hands, thoroughly ignoring the part where I said to leave me alone.

“Where the fuck did you come from? I’ve never met a person like you.” I mutter in disbelief, but feel my lips twitching a little with an involuntary smile.

“I’m originally from Riverwalk, Alaska. I was actually homeschooled before moving here. Can you believe it?” She doesn’t even wait for an answer as she continues in a conversational tone, her head tilting to the side. “And I don’t think you’re mean or a skank. I think you are sad and lonely. Most times I feel sad and lonely too, so the moment I saw you I thought we could be less miserable together.”

“You? Miserable?” I snort mockingly and try to hide how uncomfortable Claire’s personal assessment made me.

“You better believe it. This is just one of my faces.” Claire gestures at her overly happy, borderline creepy, smile. “I’ve got others hidden but if we become friends, I can show you more,” she whispers conspiratorially.

My mouth hangs right open, when she backs away from me, her friendly smile back in place. “So, what time will you pick me up?”

I scratch at my neck, completely at a loss. “Shit. Fine. I guess, give me your number and I will text you the details.”

All of a sudden, a loud shriek almost bursts my eardrum as two surprisingly strong little arms squeeze my middle, making me almost scream in agony as Claire unknowingly puts pressure on my bruised back. I wince, but quickly compose myself when I notice that we have eyes on us from people still hanging around the parking lot in front of our school. I quickly pat Claire on the back and then remove her arms from around me.

“Rule number one, Claire. If you really want to be friends with me and go places together – keep your hands to yourself.”

She throws her hands up in a sorry gesture and backs away. “Sure thing, Jenny.”

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