Fighter |✓

T h i r t y

"Can't believe we have the first class together," Camilla laughs beside me.

I smile as we enter the English class, sitting near the middle.

"Yeah, majoring in English isn't as popular as I had thought," I say as soon as we sit.

I take out a note book and place it on the small desk.

This class is much bigger than I'm used to, so my eyes scan through the whole room.

There are many students filling the space in the room.

Two blondes take a seat behind us and I hear Camilla scoff.

I frown and she rolls her eyes.

"They're from my high school, they're the bitches of this place," she states and leans in her seat.

"I don't remember seeing them at the party," I say.

"Well, duh, they were probably fucking some guys somewhere," she scrunches  her nose in disgust.

Once there were no longer any students walking through the doors, the teacher stand a up.

My eyes scan the room and I spot the back of someone's head.

That guy on the plane again?

My eyes are locked on the back of his head.

But when someone hits his head with a piece of paper, he turns around and my eyes widen.

It can't be.

Can it?

After three months of no talking, no texting and no calling, I see him.

The guy that had a secret, one that I've learnt to be underground boxing.

I want to cry, but I don't.

He left without a word, leaving me to think that I wasn't good enough.

His smile is the one thing I miss.

He doesn't notice me, how could he? We were in a big room with many people and the chances of me even realizing he was here was rare.

"Emma!" I feel someone hit my arm.

I flinch and look to my right.

"I'm sorry, I- I," I can't find it in myself to finish my sentence.

Why didn't I see him at the party?

"It's okay, you just looked like you were seeing a ghost," she chuckles.

I shift my gaze to him again.

No doubt it's him

When I look closer, I see that he now has under eye bags and looks more tired.

"Quit doing that," I feel a small nudge on my arm.

"Huh?"

"You keep zoning out," she frowns.

She turns her head to where my gaze was and frowns.

"Who are you looking at? Trevor?" She asks.

"No," I mumble.

"Or is it that new kid with all the scars on his hands?" She asks.

I look at her and smile.

"Yeah, I know him," I whisper.

"He went to my high school, we were friends but then he left and never answered my phone calls," I tell her and she gives me a sad smile.

"Sounds like and asshole to me," she sighs.

"I was I love with him, probably still am, but I don't know," I shrug.

"I think you should talk to him after class," she tells me and I nod.

"Probably."

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