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Greeting
The first time I saw Olivia Carter I thought two things.
The first one: damn, she's beautiful.
The second one: stay away from her.
Because girls like Olivia never ended up close to someone like me.
She was the complete opposite of me. Popular, fun, always surrounded by people. Short, about 5'5", with straight brown hair falling down her back and huge brown eyes that seemed too beautiful for this shitty school.
And then there was her smile.
Host.
That smile should be illegal.
I always saw her in the hallways with the girls from the volleyball team, laughing so loudly that even the teachers turned to look at her. And of course, everyone was in love with Olivia Carter.
Not only because she was gorgeousâwhich she was, incredibly soâbut also because she was a good person. Truly. She helped everyone, adored animals, and was incapable of ignoring someone who was suffering.
Too good for this site.
Too good for me.
I was Jack Hughes. Seventeen years old. Boxer. A fucking disaster on legs.
People at school were afraid of me or avoided me altogether, and honestly, that's for the best.
It was easier for them to discover the cold idiot who smoked behind the gym and fought with anyone than the kid who couldn't sleep some nights because he still remembered his father yelling at him when he was little.
Or by hitting it.
My parents had more money than they could spend in three lifetimes, but they never had time for me. My mother pretended not to see anything, and my father⊠well.
My father only knew how to use his hands to cause harm.
That's why he boxed.
Because when he hit the punching bag, he could get all the shit out of his system without breaking someone's face.
Although sometimes you felt like it.
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