Brawler Read Free Page B

brains department; she’s a human lie detector and works for the state. Red, though, she’s with Special Forces, and one you should not fuck with. The four of us have always been tight, but not as tight as Venessa and I. I may be able to hold my own, but even I know when to tap out. If that fucker Briggs proved anything to me, it’s that I can’t take a hit very well. Venessa always knows when to hold back with me; Briggs, not so much.
    I head to my dresser to grab a pair of yoga pants, a tank, and a sports bra. I grab my Pumas and a tie for my hair, check under my arms to make sure I’m fresh, and head back downstairs to wait for my ride. I will tell you another thing about Jonas, he’s never late. Knowing he’s waiting for me is thrilling. He gives me something to look forward to each morning, and most of the time, it’s the anticipation of what’s going to come out of his mouth.
    Anxious to see him, I grab two waters from the fridge, take my phone off the charger, and notice I have a missed call from Ben and two from an unknown number. Ben and I have a simple relationship. He entered the program about six months after I did and we became study partners almost immediately. He’s met the group and comes out with us from time to time. But he’s a quiet guy, good looking yes, but unless he speaks you wouldn’t even know he was there. His quiet nature makes him an easy study partner; even if most days I feel like I’m carrying the load of two people, I know he’s trying. I shoot Ben a text telling him I’ll call him later and put the phone in my bag. Just as I head to the porch there’s a knock on my door. Checking the wall clock I see again, as always, he’s right on time.
    “Good morning.” I smile, handing him a bottle of water. He smiles at me and my traitorous knees go weak.
    “Mornin’, Princess,” he says, looking me over.
    “Princess?” I ask, pretending to be put out when I’m actually thrilled. “Really?”
    “What’s wrong with Princess?” he asks.
    “What’s right with it?” I counter, secretly thrilled I have a nickname. I’ve never had one before.
    “Well,” he says, thinking as we walk to his truck, opening the door for me he continues. “For one, princesses are always beautiful,” he says, climbing in. “They like dresses, dancing, shit like that, and they always need rescuing.”
    “Are you saying I’m high-maintenance and can’t fend for myself?” I ask, pretending to be hurt.
    “I’m saying you’re hot and I want you to wear a dress when I take you dancing,” he says, leaning in and buckling my belt for me.
    “Uh …” I say with my mouth open.
    “I’d also curb stomp any fuckers that got near you,” he continues, pulling out of my driveway.
    “Okay?” I say, totally wigged out by this turn of events.
    “Unless you look like one of those evil stepsisters with your makeup off,” he says. “Then you’re saving yourself. I don’t do ugly chicks.”
    And that, ladies and gentlemen is Jonas Rafe. But for some reason, this morning is different than the others. He looks different to me. Once I decided to see past the words and look deeper at the meaning it made more sense to me. Jonas was … trying.
     

 

    I ’ve been sitting around the block from her house for the last half hour. I’ve noticed  she’s a very punctual person, so I’ve made it a point to never be late. The only way that happens is if I’m really early or I don’t leave at all, so I wait. Since talking to Venessa, I decided to take her advice.
    I’ll be me.
    If she doesn’t like it then it’s her loss, I guess.
    Who am I kidding? I won’t last five minutes with her, but I have to try. Most kids are taught how to be polite, how to interact with others, but not me. I was raised to stay out the way, probably because, to them, I was always in the way. If I told my parents I was hungry, I was beat for it. Get in trouble at school, beat for it. Accidently tore my jacket and had to get a