I'll Fight for You

CLAIRE

“Really, Claire? You think I could love you? That our time together meant anything to me?” James laughed, throwing his hands up in the air. ~

I bit my tongue, fighting back the tears and sobs that were threatening to break free. ~I won’t cry. I won’t cry.~

“Claire, I played you. Can’t you see that? I got what I wanted,” James taunted. There was a flicker of something in his eyes. ~

“But what about us? You said you loved me,” I stammered, heartbroken at the realization that I’d been played. ~

James laughed again, a cold sound. When he looked up, his eyes were icy. “Claire, wake up. Love. Isn’t. Real.” ~

That was the last thing James said to me before he turned and walked away. ~

I didn’t move. My feet were rooted to the spot as I watched him leave. ~

I sat up in bed, gasping for breath. Sweat was beading on my forehead.

“Just a dream, Claire. Just a dream,” I whispered to myself. But tears welled up in my eyes when I realized it wasn’t a dream, but a twisted memory of when James, the man I loved, shattered me.

That same memory had been replaying in my head for the past two years. I sighed and glanced at my clock: 4:27 a.m. I shook my head, trying to clear the awful thoughts that haunted me daily.

Instead, I looked around my small room. It was simple. The walls were a soft blue. A twin bed was pushed against one wall, a window on the other.

I had a small bathroom to myself in the corner, and my dresser was next to my bed. A laundry basket sat on the floor, half-filled with clothes. Papers, clothes, and other odds and ends were scattered around the room.

I didn’t have time to keep everything neat and tidy. As long as I had clean clothes, a bed, and my homework was done, I didn’t care about the state of my room.

I threw back my red duvet and swung my feet onto the cold wooden floor.

I sighed, frustrated, knowing I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. There was only one thing that could distract me from thoughts of James: Training.

I stretched, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

I pulled on some black, knee-length tights, a light blue sports bra, and my dark purple hoodie, along with my purple converse. I looked in the mirror.

My light brown hair, cut to my shoulders, was a bit messy. My light hazel eyes were still clouded with sleep, and dark circles were under my eyes.

But my body was in good shape. I wasn’t skinny, but I had muscle and curves. I knew I was attractive.

And I knew if I wanted to, I could have any guy I wanted. But that’s why I didn’t want love anymore. I knew in the end, I’d just get hurt. So why bother?

Quietly, I opened the door and tiptoed down the hallway and out the front door. My parents were still asleep.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I had my gym bag, iPhone, and water bottles with me. I would jog to the gym. It was only about a fifteen-minute jog, so it wasn’t too bad.

I looked up at the sky and saw the sun just beginning to rise. I always loved watching the sunrise and sunset.

It was beautiful how the light changed the scenery. The plants and trees seemed to glow, the grass was a brighter green, and the water sparkled.

Everything around me was beautiful. Too bad I’ll be spending my day inside a hot gym. I thought.

I shook my head and turned to start my run to the gym, when I ran into something.

“Shit,” I muttered, catching my balance. Then, I froze. Arms were wrapped around my waist, and my hands were on someone’s chest. Not just anyone’s chest.~

Slowly, I looked up into the stormy, grey eyes of Blake Johnson. He was grinning, his arms tightening slightly around me.

My heart sped up as I stared into his eyes, trying to read him, but then he spoke.

“You know, if you wanted me, you could’ve just asked. I’m always free.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

That was enough to bring me back to reality. “Whatever,” I scoffed, pushing away from him.

“What’s a little girl like you doing out here this early, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in bed getting your beauty sleep?” he teased, a fake grin on his face.

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

I rolled my eyes. If only he knew. “I could say the same about you,” I shot back, smirking.

He seemed surprised at first, but quickly hid it. “So, she can talk,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “I was never mute, you idiot,” I muttered, getting ready to leave.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I’m going?” He asked, pretending to be hurt.

I stared at him. “No.”

He laughed at my expression. “Since you asked so nicely,”—~yeah right~—“I’ll tell you.” He stuck his nose up in the air. “I’m going to—”

“Uh huh. That’s nice,” I interrupted, trying to get around him.

He narrowed his eyes, annoyed. “What’s got you in such a hurry? Too busy to listen to your neighbor?” He turned his nose up again.

I finally met his gaze and flashed him a sarcastic smile. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” I said, batting my eyelashes and patting his chest as I slipped out of his grasp.

“Where’re you off to so early? And what’s with the gym bag?” he called after me.

I didn’t bother to explain. “Gotta go.” I tightened my grip on my bag and started my light jog to the gym.

I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t dare look back. I just hoped he wouldn’t recognize me.

Meeting the bad boy was easier than I thought. I’d seen him around school and outside, but we’d never really talked before.

Fifteen minutes later, I was at the gym. It wasn’t anything special—just your typical gym with treadmills and weight lifting areas. I always headed to the back to practice my boxing.

You could get a private room and box whenever you wanted. I walked into the empty gym and looked around.

No one’s here. Just how I like it. I grinned, walking past all the equipment to the last door of the private boxing rooms.

I loved coming in early when no one was here. People usually started showing up around noon.

I locked the door and tossed my bag on the floor. I pulled out my red boxing gloves and tied my hair back into a side braid, then stared at the long, red punching bag.

My hair fell over my face as I threw punch after punch, memories of James and me flashing through my mind.

I was fifteen. I was naive and so, so damn gullible.

Love! I scoffed to myself. It’s not real. Men act like babies and run away when they’re scared. They run from their problems.

James. I met him sophomore year. We hit it off and started dating. Seven months later, I convinced myself we were in love. That night, I gave him what he wanted. Me. He was my first.

The next morning, everything went downhill.

Anger and rage boiled inside me when I saw James’ smug smirk. He just stood there, grinning at me, as I broke down.

That night, I started boxing. A few nights later, I was good at it. That’s when Nancy found me.

I was fighting a blonde bimbo who thought I’d “stolen” her boyfriend. I won, and Nancy saw potential in me.

After a few lessons, she set me up with my first match. I won.

I guess I should thank James. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without him.

I scoffed at the thought of James. The stupid, ignorant player! I’ll laugh when he comes crawling back, begging for forgiveness when he finds out that White Wolf is his ex-girlfriend. That is, ~if~ he finds out.

“Another dream?” Nancy’s voice made me jump.

I turned to look at her. “Nancy, I locked that door,” I said.

She nodded. “Yup, and I unlocked it.” She shrugged. “It’s 9:30 a.m.,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

I looked up, shocked at how fast time had passed. I checked my phone. It was 9:30 a.m.

“Damn...” I mumbled, blinking to clear the sudden haziness in my vision.

“How long have you been here?” she asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs against the wall. Her eyes told me she knew the answer, but she asked anyway.

I shrugged. “Since 5:00 a.m.,” I mumbled, throwing another punch at the bag. My fists ached from being clenched for so long, but I ignored the pain and kept going.

That is, until Nancy pulled me away from the bag. “Alright Claire. You need to calm down. I think it’s time for a break,” she said, gripping my shoulders.

“Let’s go out tonight. Find a guy to hook up with and forget about James.”

Nancy was the only one who knew about James, besides Molly. She’d been there for me when I needed her. She was like a best friend, even a mother. Better than my own mom.

I rolled my eyes at her suggestion, but I figured I could use a drink, so why not?

“Fine, but only for the alcohol,” I said, taking off my gloves and unwrapping the gauze from my hands.

Sweat trickled down my forehead, and I drank from my glass water bottle.

Nancy was twenty-three and beautiful. She had light green eyes with a gold rim around the pupil, and wavy, chocolate brown hair.

Her body was slim, just like mine. Not too skinny, but just right. Nancy was a heartbreaker and proud of it.

She was single, but she enjoyed having a “great” time with guys.

“Oh no! You’ve spent too much time crying over that douchebag James. You’re going to get some tonight! Even if I have to pay the guy!

“Which, I don’t think will happen because—come on!—no guy will be able to resist you, Claire.” Nancy smirked.

I shook my head and laughed. “Yeah, okay, Nancy,” I said. But when I looked up, I saw her serious glare. She wasn’t kidding.

I groaned. “Oh, come on. I don’t want to,” I whined, stomping my foot.

Nancy just grinned and grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the room. I grabbed my bag, bottle, and phone before she pulled me out of the gym.

Just as I was about to pull my arm away, I ran into something. For the second time today, and it wasn’t even noon!

“We have got to stop meeting like this.” I heard Blake chuckle as I steadied myself and glared at him.

“Same here, man,” I muttered, my gaze fixed on the ground.

“Claire, let’s go.” Nancy grabbed my arm, pulling me towards her car.

Blake looked at us, confusion etched on his face. I shrugged and climbed into Nancy’s car.

“Who was that?” Nancy asked as we drove off, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “He was kinda cute,” she added, glancing back at Blake.

I snorted. “Really, Nancy? He’s eighteen,” I pointed out.

She shrugged. “So what? Doesn’t mean he can’t be cute. Plus,” she turned to me, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively, “he’s legal.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes you act like such a guy,” I muttered.

She took it as a compliment. “Why, thank you, Claire,” she grinned.

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled as we pulled into her driveway.

Nancy lived in a two-story, white house. She lived alone, often bringing guys home for “fun.” I found myself at her place more often than not.

I headed straight for her kitchen, grabbing a banana nut muffin and some orange juice. I was hungry, but not starving.

After I finished eating, Nancy came downstairs. She was wearing a tight, red sleeveless dress that ended mid-thigh, red open-toed heels, and a diamond bracelet on her left wrist.

I stared at her, taken aback. Finally, I managed to say the one word I knew she wanted to hear. “Hot,” I said, smiling.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not done yet. Still need to do my makeup and hair. But you’re coming with me.”

She grabbed my arm, dragging me upstairs. I felt like a rag doll being tugged around.

She handed me a dark blue, mid-thigh dress and pointed to the bathroom door. I sighed, but went in to change.

The dress slipped on easily. It had a shoulder strap adorned with dark blue beads. The fabric from my chest down was all silk. I stepped out and twirled for Nancy.

She clapped her hands, handing me matching blue heels that slipped on easily. We checked ourselves out in the mirror and after a few moments, we both voiced our thoughts. “Hot.” We grinned at each other.

“Now, time for hair and makeup,” Nancy said, grinning. She pulled out her large makeup kit and hair tools. “This might take a while...”

***

True to her word, two hours later, we were done... with me. Just me. She spent so much time trying to perfect my makeup and hair that she’d start over if she wasn’t satisfied.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My back ached from sitting in the same position for hours.

A light shade of blue covered my eyelids. My lips were painted a bold red and a light blush dusted my cheeks. I wore blue diamond earrings and I had to admit, I’d never looked better.

My hair was straightened and pulled into a side braid, just the way I liked it.

“You look stunning,” Nancy said, curling the ends of her hair. I sighed and sat down. This was going to take a while...

***

Another two hours later, we were finally ready. It was six o’clock. “Nancy, you look amazing, but did it really have to take two hours?” I complained.

Nancy was wearing bright red eyeshadow, mascara, blush, and ruby red lipstick. Her hair was curled at the ends and she had a matching purse.

She rolled her eyes and we headed out to her car. “We look hot, and it’s Saturday. Relax, we have plenty of time.”

She grinned as we drove to our favorite club: Black Midnight. It was a strange name, but the club was great and the drinks were even better.

Half an hour later, we pulled into the parking lot and walked to the front of the line. We got called a few names for cutting, but Nancy and the doorman were good friends.

As soon as we got in, I made a beeline for the bar.

“Hey, Claire. Looking good.” The bartender nodded his approval. I laughed.

“I was coerced,” I told him, shouting over the loud music.

He nodded. “Figures. The usual?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yup,” I replied, popping the P. Tonight, I just wanted to get drunk.

And when it comes to me and alcohol… it usually doesn’t end well. But maybe Nancy was right. I needed a night to take my mind off things.

***

Several drinks later, I was thoroughly drunk. I didn’t care, though. I was on the edge of the dance floor, sipping another cocktail when a guy approached me.

He had blond hair that fell into his eyes and was wearing a blue button-down shirt with faded blue jeans. He had brown eyes and a muscular build. In my opinion, he was really cute.

“Hey,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I didn’t move and, surprisingly, didn’t slur my words. “Hey,” I replied.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a slight grin spread across his face. “How old are you? You look a bit young to be here, don’t you think?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

I nodded and turned to meet his gaze. “So? It’s not like seventeen-year-olds haven’t snuck into bars with fake IDs before.” I took another sip of my cocktail.

He nodded. “True. I’m only eighteen,” he admitted.

I nodded, closing my eyes as I let the alcohol burn its way down my throat. It still stung, but I was used to it by now.

I was about to order another drink when arms wrapped around my waist. “I think you’ve had enough for now, sweetheart.”

The guy whispered in my ear, taking the glass from my hand and setting it down on a nearby table.

I closed my eyes, leaning back into his touch. “Mhmm,” I hummed. His arms were still around my waist as he whispered in my ear:

“I could show you a better time than just drinking, you know,” he murmured.

I opened my eyes to see Nancy grinning at me. She mouthed the words “go for it” before turning back to the guy she was talking to.

I was a seventeen-year-old, drunk, and hormonal. So, I said what any girl in my position would say:

“Why don’t we put that theory to the test?” I said, a smirk playing on my lips.