The Boxer and I

Fifteen

Dear beloved reader,

It's been over a year since I updated this story. I had initially written a different chapter, but then life got in the way, my attention went to other things, and I revisited this a few weeks ago and wanted to change the direction of the story. There's a lot in my head, it's hard to get it down on paper. I want to thank you for your patience, because I know a lot of you are dedicated to reading this to the end. I promise you that I will complete it. I hope to see you at the finish line. I really hope you enjoy this story, what else it has to offer and the route I've chosen to take it down. Flo & Jake FTW. 

Enjoy. 

Fifteen

Gold is a precious thing. It's rare, it's sparkly, it's heavy. The delicate gold chain necklace sits in my hand; rare, sparkly and definitely heavy. Heavy with the weight of who gave it to me. I lace it around my neck, clasp it in place, and watch its glint in the artificial lighting of my small bathroom. The ping of my phone snaps me out of my golden trance.

You still coming?

My heart speeds at the name that sits next to the text.

On my way, wouldn't miss your birthday party Lloyd.

I type back, resisting the smile that creeps on my face. My quickened heart rate quickens even more when I see the three dots to anticipate his response.

Good, I thought I was getting stood up there for a second.

I giggle like a teenager in love.

Aren't you one?

I shake the thought from my head.

Lol I would never.

With that, I give myself one final glance in the mirror, eyeing my attempt at a subtle makeup look, checking my all black outfit of an off-the-shoulder ribbed long-sleeved top and skinny jeans. The last time I truly cared about what I looked like was years ago, and now. Only because I'm seeing him. I sigh through pursed lips and leave the apartment with my crossbody bag in hand, clutching it close to me knowing that his present is inside.

***

I get to the apartment block just after ten, the place already crawling with people. My beat-up beetle stands out like a sour thumb amongst the vast luxe cars that sit obnoxiously in their parking spaces, their owners proudly leant against them, no doubt to flaunt to friends that they've bumped into on the way to the concierge entrance. Say hello to the rich kids of Colston. Or shall I say the children of wealthy parents who spoil their children too much.

I used to be one of them.

With a bottomless allowance and parents that never batted an eye lid at the money I was spending, it became like an addiction. I was carelessly wasting ridiculous amounts on empty items that meant little in the grand scheme of things. It would've been okay if the money I was spending was mine, if I'd earned it through my own blood, sweat and tears. But it wasn't. I didn't care about where it came from, and I for sure didn't see its worth. What have I got to show for it now?

A few eyes burn into the back of my head as I park my noisy car up into one of the few free spots left and climb out. Peeking up to see whose eyes these belong to, they were mainly kids from school, but also older people, people well into their twenties, maybe even thirties. Trying to not let their gazes affect my demeanour, I walk towards the entrance, smile at the concierge who Jake introduced me to the last time I came and make my way to the elevator.