To start over.
That's what Alex Rose needed, after that night.
That's what drove her out of her home in London, to New York, halfway across the world, to start her second year of college in North Regal University.
A whole new world greets her, ne...
"See, you're lookin' beyond the surface, Can tell by the questions you're asking, You got me low-key nervous, It feels like we're on the same wave, yeah." Get Me - Justin Bieber
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Max plays dirty.
The bruise I can feel forming on my cheek and my busted lip is the result of it.
His technique is the kind that coaches usually tell us to steer clear from, because one wrong move and you could injure someone seriously. He doesn't seem to care, though.
My chest is burning from exhaustion, the thick layer of sweat on my skin uncomfortable and sticky. The first two rounds have passed in a tacky blur of punches and dodging. I'd managed to win the second, and Max won the first.
There's something about this guy that's unsettling. Wrong.
We circle each other, my fists raised to protect my face as I watch his every move. I've already figured out his strengths and weaknesses throughout the last two rounds, and now it's time for me to use that knowledge. Max's punches are powerful, but slow. And when he strikes, he usually leaves another part of his body unguarded. And he always leans towards the direction he's striking before actually throwing the punch. All careless, rookie mistakes.
Mistakes that will help me win.
The bright lights that are beating down on the ring are almost blinding, but my head guard acts like a cap, shielding my eyes from it directly hitting my vision. The crowd is wild, I can hear my name in chants, as well as Max's.
Max's eyes are like a predator's, fury burning in them. He's pissed, fuming that I won the second round. The first thing they teach you in boxing is not to let your emotions get to you in the ring. I guess Max didn't get the memo, because his anger is going to affect his play.
I catch Max's movement towards my left, and I immediately duck, right in time as he surges forward and punches, missing me by an inch. As expected, he leaves his abdomen unguarded. Lunging for him, I throw punches to his stomach, one after the other, and Max stumbles backwards onto the floor.
The audience screams my name as I take a step back, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my wrist. I glance at the timer. Twenty seconds left. I already know I'm ahead of him in points, I just have to keep him from gaining more points for me to win. Max circles me, eyeing me like a lion about to pounce on its prey.
Little does he know that tonight, I'm the predator, and he's the prey.
My eyes catch him moving slightly to the right, and once again, I avoid the punch he throws to my right side. He growls in frustration, and lunges for me again, and I take his moment of weakness to land a punch on his cheek. Max stumbles back, and hits the floor again, right as the buzzer echoes through the room.
