Home > The Fighter (Barrett Boys #2)(3)

The Fighter (Barrett Boys #2)(3)
Author: Jordan Ford

The guy’s desperate, which is why I offered my help.

I’m supposed to be his math tutor, but he’s just not getting it. The only solution I can think of is cheating.

Yes, that probably makes me a heinously bad person, but it’s not like Braxton wants to be an accountant or something. He wants to play football, and you don’t need to be the smartest person in school to be an amazing athlete. It doesn’t seem right that he should miss out just because he struggles academically.

He’s not the first person I’ve helped this year.

Wendy Bleekman passed her last English exam because of me, and Nigel Wong’s Spanish grade got bumped from a D to a C.

So far, no one seems to have noticed, and it’s helped supplement my tutoring income.

I may as well keep helping people for as long as I can. It makes me feel less… I don’t know, horrible, maybe?

Pocketing the money, I slip out of the classroom and blend into the shadows.

Tasha spots me from her locker, her wide blue eyes blinking a couple of times before she turns to talk to Sharon.

They still haven’t adjusted to my black, emo look… or the fact that we’re no longer besties.

She just didn’t get it.

Didn’t get why I couldn’t be the girl I was before.

She tried.

But you can’t force someone to see things from your perspective. It’s impossible to describe grief to a person who’s never experienced it before.

So now we’re just strangers who blink at each other across a school hallway.

The bell’s shrill ring hustles me away from my old life and into my back-row normal.

I endure the last two periods, then race home, running up the stairs and slamming the door behind me. The house is empty, like it always is in the afternoons. I relish the silence. The aloneness. The fact that I can breathe without anyone trying to read into the hitch of my shoulder or the twitch of my lips. Without having to explain my sudden love affair with black eyeliner and nail polish.

Slumping into my chair, I stare at my computer monitor, my eyes darting to the family photo on my bookshelf.

I don’t know who that girl is anymore. The one with the shiny black bob, the perfectly straight bangs and the fresh-faced smile. The one who used to brush her hair and actually care that she looked pristine. The one sandwiched between two laughing parents.

It’s the smiles on our faces that always hit me so hard.

We all look so happy and vibrant. Three amigos without a care in the world. Nothing could touch us.

Until it did.

And now I’m all that’s left.

I force my eyes back to my computer and wake up the screen, pulling out my laptop and plugging everything in. I get my music pumping, the caustic rock beats drowning out the pounding of my heart.

I figure I’ll get this little hacking job out of the way first.

Braxton’s money will burn a hole in my pocket until I go in and change his transcript.

It’s not a difficult hack.

I’ve been raised around computers. My father was a software engineer, and my mother was an information security analyst. They spoke their own kind of language, and I thrived around it. Dad was teaching me how to build worlds in Minecraft before I could ride a bike. The worlds we built together were complex and I… I miss him.

Forcing air through my nostrils, I blink at my burning eyes and focus on the screen. I broke through the necessary firewalls a couple of months ago, and it’s been an easy in-and-out ever since.

Bringing up Braxton’s transcript, I wince at his grades and go about making small adjustments to test scores, final marks on assignments and the teachers’ comments.

By the time I’m done, his GPA has gone from a 2.53 to a 3.48, which should definitely be enough to get him that scholarship he needs.

Once I’m out of the system, I spend a few minutes surfing the net. It’s a habit I can’t seem to break. I don’t even know if I want to. Scrolling through different sites, laughing at memes, catching up on news. It’s a good way to pass the time.

I get so caught up I don’t even notice the darkness descending outside until there’s a sharp knock on my door.

Aunt Valerie’s head appears, her keen eyes assessing the state of my room.

I glance at the mess on the floor behind me, the papers that have missed the trash, the mini volcano of clothes on the floor. The red shirt on top looks like lava running down the unfolded clump and into the blue sea of my duvet that didn’t quite make it onto my bed this morning.

She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.

We just do our standard stare down—me silently reminding her that this is my one space in her pristine home, and her silently reminding me that this is her home, not mine, and aren’t I so lucky that she lived nearby so I didn’t have to uproot my entire life. I could keep going to the same school and be around my friends. Nothing was too new or foreign, like somehow that would make it easier to pretend like my heart hasn’t been ripped out of my chest.

“Have you eaten yet?” Her voice is always so soft and calm compared to the hard look in her eyes.

I glance at the chocolate bar wrappers and empty Coke can on my desk.

She scoffs and shakes her head. "That's not food, Kena. Come downstairs and eat. Uncle Ling is making tofu stir-fry.“

Gross!

“Maybe later,” I murmur, turning back to my computer screen so she can’t see my face anymore.

She stays for a beat, obviously expecting more, but then gives up, my door shutting with a little more force than necessary.

My shoulders slump with a heavy sigh, and I glance at the picture of my parents.

I can hear Dad’s voice in my head. “I know my sister can be a pain in the ass, but come on… be nice to her.”

“She’s only trying to help you, sweetie.” Mom would wrap her arm around my shoulders and grin at me, the sparkle in her eye conspiratorial. “Just go down, shovel in some of those healthy vegetables, and then come back upstairs for a Hershey’s chaser.”

I chuckle, loving the sound of her inside my head. Loving that wink I can see and the way my dad wiggles his eyebrows.

Sucking in a breath, I try to hold on to them for a little longer, but like always, they fade away. Nothing more than figments of my imagination.

It doesn’t matter how badly I want them here.

They’re gone.

With a heavy sigh, I force my body up. Desperate to cling to them for just a few moments more, I take Mom’s advice and head downstairs to get heinous vegetables out of the way before following it up with a sweet treat.

But I don’t quite make it, because snappy words from the kitchen stop me in my tracks.

"I never asked for a kid! When I said yes to being her guardian eighteen years ago, I only did it because I didn't think it'd ever be a possibility!"

I flinch, Aunt Valerie’s words slicing right through me.

“At least she’ll be off to college after the summer,” Uncle Ling murmurs.

“If she even gets into one! Every time I bring up college applications, she cuts me off and tells me to stop nagging. All that money her parents saved and put aside… for what? We’ll probably be stuck with her for years.”

“It doesn't help that she's changed so completely.” Uncle Ling sighs. “She's not the girl she was before her parents died. I don't even recognize that sullen, gothic creature upstairs. Do you think we need to get her some counseling?"

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