Boxer Beast by Marci Fawn Page B

said they’d help our family in times of need, they meant it. They left us some of the money from when they sold their property. My father tried to stop them. I saw the conversation through my bedroom door that I’d left ajar.
    He couldn’t convince them to take their money and leave. They knew about our problems. I knew, too. We were so close to losing the house. We probably would, if it weren’t for the Xaviers’ kindness.
    A new family will be moving in soon. “Befriend them,” the Xaviers said.
    I’ve only seen the inside of my room for weeks, besides school. I quit debate club. I won’t be able to go back now. I ruined my chances with Jason, definitely.
    Who would take me like this? No one.
    I don’t know who to tell.
    Definitely dad. Maybe Sabrina.
    Never River. Absolutely not River. He has hurt me too much, and he is too focused on his boxing career. There is no way he would – or could – come back. But…
    My body slouches forward as I look at the pregnancy test. It isn’t the first one I’ve taken, going to a drugstore two cities away so no one would find out about my suspicions.
    The tests all line up on the bathroom tile beside me, telling me everything I already know, even though I was hoping that one of them would give me a different answer, the one I answer I wanted to run with.
    But none of them did.
    God, I am so stupid.
    Positive.
    All positive.
    I’m pregnant, alone and heartbroken. But this baby is the only piece of River I have left…

River
    S he isn’t fucking answering her phone.
    I don’t know why I bother calling. She isn’t going to see me. I want to see her! Fucking. Christ. I even used my first paycheck to go all the way there, tell her I love her, let her know how much she means to me. That if she wanted, when I got back from this tour, we could get married. I’d take her with me. Anywhere.
    She doesn’t want to see me.
    I throw my weight into the punch, slamming my fist against the punching bag. Almost did it the wrong way… Could’ve broken my hand. I don’t give a fuck. I hit it again. Then again. Then a third time, throwing all my rage and frustration into the bag until my body is so fucking exhausted I can barely stand anymore.
    And then I keep going.
    Fight.
    Fuck.
    Sleep.
    Repeat.
    Just another day in the life of River Xavier.
    But I hadn’t just fucked Faith. She meant so much more than that to me. Did she think otherwise? How could she think she meant anything else?
    I grit my teeth so hard my lower lip gets caught in it. I ignore the bleeding, punching the bag again. Maybe I can trick myself into thinking the blows will solve my problems.
    They won’t.
    I’m looking at the punching bag in front of me, but I know I threw my gym pack somewhere in a corner earlier. My phone’s in it. Her number’s engraved in my head.
    I should call her again.
    Don’t fucking do it, Xavier. Don’t be a dumbass.
    “Cool it, Xavier, you don’t need to be that nervous about your first fight,” Coach Daniels comes up behind me, smacking my back a few times for good measure. “You’ll do great.”
    That isn’t it at all. But if Coach needs something to make me feel better about, something to keep him from asking fucking annoying personal questions, so be it.
    “Doubt it,” I grunt. The words are fake. The frustration behind them isn’t.
    Faith Collins.
    She isn’t gonna be Faith Xavier.
    Goddamnit!
    I hit the bag again.
    “Hey,” Coach Daniels grabs my fist as I rear back to hit the bag again, and I swear – if I didn’t have to work with him, I’d probably hit him, too. But he’s older and experienced, and he’d block it anyway. He has taught me everything I know. And he’s my friend, and it wouldn’t be right. I breathe heavily. “You sure this is about your first match?”
    “Yeah.” Keep it short, River. You’re not going to be able to hide this if you get chatty . “I’m good. Ready to kick ass.” I throw Coach my trademark grin, telling him I am