Darcy leaned back and ran a knuckle under her right eye, effectively smearing the mascara even more. Her normally peppy and outgoing friend looked depressed as hell. Darcy sniffed and glanced away, her eyes becoming glossy as tears spilled down her cheeks making tracks.
“I’m fine,” she waved her hand between them. “It’s stupid really. I just got into a fight with Dane.” By the tone of her voice Mary knew there was more, that it wasn’t just “a fight”. Darcy glanced up at Mary again, the tip of her nose red as the tears made faster tracks down her cheeks.
“What’s really wrong?” I asked softly and took a seat across from her.
She exhaled shakily. “I heard from Meghan that he fucked some sorority chick last weekend.”
“Oh, Darcy,” Mary said softly. “I’m really sorry.”
“I confronted the asshole and he didn’t even deny it. He even had the balls to blame the whole thing on me because he said I didn’t get freaky enough for him.” Darcy snorted and shook her head, anger making its way through her sadness. “I mean, fuck, how much freakier does he want me to get? I let him—”
Mary held up her hand and shook her head, stopping Darcy from finishing that sentence. “Um, I’m good.” Darcy gave a watery chuckle. “I can imagine what the two of you did when I heard the headboard slamming against the wall.”
This had Darcy smiling and it made Mary feel a little better that she could push Darcy’s sadness to the back, even for a little bit of time. Mary moved closer and wrapped her arms around Darcy’s shoulders.
“I really liked him, Mary, like really liked him.”
“I know.” Mary kept her voice soft. “I know what you’re going through and it fucking sucks.” Darcy pulled back and looked into Mary’s eyes. She nodded. “Yeah. My ex-boyfriend cheated on me with someone I thought was a friend.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
Mary smiled. “It was a couple years ago. I moved past it, but he can always go fuck himself.”
Darcy laughed and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Yeah, Dane can fuck himself right up the ass.”
“That’s right. Fuck him.”
“To think I’m crying over some pompous prick…” She shook her head and heaved a big sigh. “Maybe you’d want to go out with me Friday, help me forget how shitty men are by getting drunk and dancing like no one is watching?”
Mary smiled and gave a nod. “Absolutely.”
She wasn’t really into that kind of scene, but the truth was after the thing with Alex and how she felt toward him, and because of the shit from Lance souring her mood, going out and getting wasted sounded pretty damn good.
9
Alex slammed his fist into the red, scarred punching bag over and over again. No matter the padding or tape around his knuckles, the pain speared right up his forearms.
His knuckles were sore from hitting the damn thing over and over again, but he welcomed the pain. Sweat had made his short hair drenched and stuck to his forehead and temples, and beads slid down his bare chest.
He swung out with his right fist, and then did the same with his left. He felt the tightening of his muscles as he tensed and put all his power into the bag. Keeping on the balls of his feet, he bounced as he did a few moves, making sure his body stayed warmed up. The sounds of guys fighting surrounded him, and the smell of sweat filled his nose.
This was why Alex came to this hole-in-the-wall gym, where the roughest bastards trained, where there weren’t screen-printed shirts, and douchebags flexing in the mirrors. This wasn’t some known place, and that’s just what Alex wanted.
The gyms around campus where usually filled with the same roided-out jocks that had big heads and small dicks.
Frost was owned by Dylan Frost, a former UFC champion that had since retired at the age of thirty-five due to a leg injury. He’d opened up this gym to help other guys that had been like him and just needed a place to let off steam without the regulations and rules of the gyms around campus. It definitely had an underground kind of feel to it, where a lot of big names came when they didn’t want the pressure of a chain gym. It wasn’t flashy, and was for sure outdated. And that’s what Alex liked.
“Yo, Sheppard, my man!”
Alex stopped hitting the bag when he heard his name being shouted from across the room. He turned to see Vincent, one of the fighters training for an upcoming MMA tournament walking up to him. Vincent’s knuckles were already taped and he was smacking them together as his grin spread across his face.
“Hey, what’s up?” Alex fully faced Vincent, and the expression on the fighter’s face told him enough.