I nodded and walked away. I made a stop at the locker room to grab my water and stretch out my shoulder in private. I didn’t like for other guys to see when I was in pain.
I put my hands on either side of the sink and looked into the mirror. My shaved head was new, but I liked the look it gave me. Menacing. I had the look of a guy that said, “You don’t even want to begin to fuck with me. I’ll kill you.”
I pulled my mouth guard out and spat blood into the sink from where one of the rookies had gotten an easy punch on me. I looked away at Leo for just a moment and the kid came at me. Like he had something to prove. I ended him—might’ve broken a couple of his ribs in the process. That way he’d learn that you don’t mess with Dillon Jackson.
I walked over to my locker and opened it up, pulled out a gallon of water, and started sucking it down. I pulled a towel out and wiped off my sweaty face. There wasn’t much in my locker besides those two things. I liked it that way. Clean. Everything had a place and was a necessity if it was in there. But when I reached to put my towel back, my hand brushed against something I forgot I had left here. I considered pulling it out, just to look at it. Just to make me feel little bit better, stronger, but I didn’t. I let my hand linger there just a moment too long then I pulled it back like I’d been bitten by a snake.
I was Dillon Jackson, an unbeatable fighter. But everyone has a weakness.
TWO
BERKLEY
I totally hated being up this early in the morning. But I didn’t have a choice; the first day of classes was already upon us and I had to get ready for school.
I picked out my outfit the night before, so I dressed pretty quickly, but calming down my unruly, naturally curly hair and getting my make up just right took time. I looked in the mirror as I was brushing my teeth, trying not to say some sort of mantra like today is the beginning of the rest of your life, or some other bullshit like that.
It wasn’t the beginning of the rest of my life. It was just another day, just like every day.
I look down at my phone buzzing because I pressed snooze one too many times. When I saw the picture that was set as my background I quickly shut it off and continued with my morning routine.
I felt like my phone could tell you my whole life story. A perfect background shot of my ex-boyfriend and me laughing together on the beach, when we were happy. Screenshot after screenshot of text messages from him.
I need you.
Berkley, you’re everything to me.
I know we’re soul mates.
But then the voicemail that ruined it all. “I think you’re just too serious for me. I really believe we’re meant to be together, but you just want more than I can give you. You deserve more than what I have.”
My phone was my lifeline to Jake.
We’d been together for four years, my entire college career. We met at freshman orientation, where he was a mentor sophomore and I was fresh out of high school. I had always felt like he was the more serious one, talking about our future and making plans. I had just wanted to have fun in college, go to parties with my friends, have random sex with guys whose names I didn’t know, but instead I had Jake. And for so long he had seemed so perfect. But then his texts were less frequent, our dates became more mundane, and our sex life had all but dried up. It was discouraging, to say the least. I wanted to love Jake forever, but the moment that I mentioned moving in with him after college, suddenly I was too serious for him. I guess I’ll never know if it was me or him, or if there were other girls on the side like all of my friends had always suggested. I should’ve listened to them earlier.
The first week without Jake had been hard; chocolate wrappers and liquor bottles littered my bedroom floor, and a few of my sorority sisters had threatened to throw me in the water themselves if I didn’t shower soon. But after that I got my shit together. I went to the on-campus doctor and got an STD test. Luckily I had been in the clear. I would never really know if Jake had been with other girls, and a part of me still thought that I probably couldn’t handle the truth.
I looked into the mirror again, applying mascara on my heavily shadowed lid. My long dark hair framed my face with its natural curls flowing down to the middle of my back. This was going to be my last semester of college. I was graduating, and I had absolutely no plans. Everything had hinged on Jake and what his career would do for us. He wanted to be involved in politics, and I’d always liked the sound of being a first lady. Preparing functions and dressing well were things that I was good at. I’d been raised in that way. My father had become governor of the state of New York when I was only twelve; for a while I thought the presidency might be in our future. But after his accident, things had changed. Now we were just a typical well-off family with a lake house and nice cars, and no real friends. That was the only thing that worried me about the political life: I would never really know who was in it for me. I hadn’t even known my boyfriend well enough to know that he wasn’t.
I rubbed blush on the tops of my cheeks and grabbed my light pink lipstick. Getting ready for class was harder these days, as I was always trying to impress the other senior guys, or even a graduate student. I had to find a new boyfriend at some point, and three months had been a long enough time for me to be celibate. I was just about to rush out the door to my first class of the semester when my roommate, Naomi, walked in.
“Damn! You look good for 9 AM.”
She tossed her messenger bag on her bed and lay back, allowing the soft sheets to absorb her. She never made her bed; it was just one of those things you had to accept about her.
“And you look exhausted. Another late night out, with… What’s his name?”
She sat up with a broad smile on her face. I was still getting used her new haircut, a fierce, dark purple pixie cut, but it fit her personality well. It would’ve been easier to accept, except that she’d been blonde with shoulder length hair for the past three and a half years. Something changed her over Christmas break, but she hadn’t talk about it yet, and I wasn’t one to pry.
“I think his name is Elliott, or maybe Eli? God, you know I’m terrible with names!”
I laughed at her, “No, I know you’re terrible with boys. So I guess it’s not that serious yet? How are your mom and dad going to feel about that?”
“You know sometimes I think all that they want is for me to get married. But then I do get serious with some guy, like remember that one guy, Dean? I really liked him. But when I brought him home they got all weird. ‘You’re too young to get married. Don’t settle for anyone. Make something of your career first.’ I don’t get it. It’s like I hear from my mom that my internal clock is ticking and my dad on the other hand wants me to have this long fabulous career before I make any real decisions.”
I shrugged and took a look at the time on my phone. Jake’s face was still in the background. I sighed heavily. “As much as I would love to discuss your early life crisis right now, I have to get to class.”
“I’ll walk downstairs with you. I didn’t get anything for breakfast before my first class. And if you think I didn’t notice the sad, sappy eyes about your phone, you’re wrong. You’ve got to get rid of Jake as your background.” She stood up and crossed the room, quickly snatching the phone from my hands. She took a quick selfie of her making a duck face. “Here. Now when you look at your phone, you’ll see fabulous me. And you’ll laugh every time.”