HOPE'S POV

"I know what a jab is!" he announced proudly.

I gestured for him to perform the basic move, which he promptly responded to by moving his left foot in front of his right. He placed his elbows in place and extended his right arm in an awfully slow rate. When he punched, his limbs unconsciously moved. The punch was weak and the punching bag barely budged.

He then switched his stance and extended his left arm.

It was impossible to win a competition with such low standards. A jab might be a basic move, but it can still affect his future opponent. It worried me to know he could not do it accurately.

I let out a defeated sigh as he continued throwing his punches.

After a few heartbeats, he finally stopped. A smile swept across his face as he asked, "How did I perform?"

I replied using his notebook. "Horribly."

He frowned while tilting her head quizzically.

"Then how am I supposed to do it?"

I handed him the book and pen for him to hold. It was not necessary since I could talk, but I was glad he brought it along with understanding that I was not comfortable exposing my voice to just him after such a long time of keeping it to myself.

I walked towards the punching bag while he stood behind, watching my every movement.

I kept my body and hands relaxed as I got into the boxing stance with my knees slightly bent, hands up and elbows in. I inhaled while I punched the bag while making sure to rotate my arm. My fist, which was entirely covered in the boxing glove, made contact with the bag with a thump.

Tyler widened his eyes, taking notes of my steps. "I think I got it," he said, taking my place in front of the punching bag.

I offered him an encouraging smile as he copied my actions. He went into the right position and finally landed a strong, firm punch.

A proud smile reached my lips as I watched, remembering the first time I wanted to learned to fight. I was so confident, thinking I could make both my mother and stepfather pay after I learned the basics. I then discovered it was not as easy as I thought.

It took weeks to master the simple move and months to master the more complex ones. It has been years, and I was still insecure about the way I fight. At times, I doubt I can beat the people that ended my father's life.

I hated that they did not get caught and how everyone in town thinks my father died because of a ridiculous story. My parents had fooled the public into believing he committing suicide after my mother left him.

I saw it all and I knew the truth. But no one would believe me because I did not have evidence. My stepfather is a rich and successful businessman who owns quite a famous company. He must had already hired people with his money to hide the ugly truth.

I nodded, brushing the thoughts to the back of my head.

I wanted to continue with teaching him yet another move, but before I could, Tyler pulled me to the corner of the room and handed me one of the bottles of water I brought along with the biggest smile on his face.

"It has been half an hour and I have only learned one of the skills in fighting. Must be hard for you," he joked, chuckling. "I'm curious, how long you have been fighting?"

"A few months?" he guessed.

I shake my head, taking a sip from the bottle. With one hand, I held out two fingers to represent the number six.

"Six weeks is technically a month and a few days," he said and I shake my head again. "Merely days?"

He narrowed his eyes in disbelief for a split second before it widens.

"Years?" His shocked expression stays for a moment. Perhaps he thought it was impossible to cling onto a hobby or activity for so long. I assumed the same when I started.

I assumed that after learning most of my current knowledge, I can simply use it against my stepfather.

Little did I know that there were always things that I have yet to learn and discover. It is an ongoing process.

His eyes widened in disbelief once again when I nod.

"Six years?"

It seemed to take a few seconds for the information to sink into Tyler's brain before he looked back at me in awe. I did not quite think it was something others would find amazing or unbelievable since others had learned to fight their whole lives.

"You never struck me as someone who fights," he said while the corners of his lips stretch into a wide grin.

I surprisingly laugh, placing the bottle on the ground. I realized how long it has been since the last time I had genuinely laughed.

I guess it does not matter if the ice around my heart melts for just this week since after it ends and Tyler gets the competition over with, he would not bother me. I can go back to planning how I want my parents to pay.

In the meantime, I decide to enjoy the presence of another person. But one thing's for sure, I do not plan on letting him into my secret or life.

"Angel," he called. That nickname had triggered too many memories I would rather forget.

I sent a glare his way, hoping it was enough to tell him not to call me by that name.

"Why don't you talk?" he ignored my intense stare. I did not quite think he got my message.

I opened my mouth but did not speak. Honestly, I did not mind speaking with Tyler, after all, it would make my job much easier when teaching him how to fight since we were technically already interacting.

It was then reality struck and I realized I was letting my guard down. I tried convincing myself that we will act like we have never met soon enough.

My father, the man who truly gave me happiness, told me years ago that trusting someone will most likely end horribly. It was only right if I do not go against him, but why does something tell me I have nothing to worry about around Tyler? It reminded me that not everyone had a soul as dark as my stepfather's.

I shrugged at his question. I guess I was still not comfortable. I do not mind if I stay silent for the rest of my life. It might probably be for the best.

It has been half an hour and he had only learned how to throw a basic punch. I had yet to show him a hook and how he should duck from an attack. I decided to stay a little longer to finish teaching him another move.

It was until the light from the sky above was obliterated by total blackness when Tyler could remember all the steps by heart. I was exhausted. Never had I needed to recite the same step so many times, but it was incredible since I could correct my own mistakes as I taught him.

"Thanks for agreeing to help me." Tyler gave me his usual charming smile. It kills to admit, but it does have an effect on me.

I nodded in reply. My eyes were trained on the poster with all the information about the competition he is most probably taking part in.

Just a day before, I assumed it had absolutely nothing to do with me.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked, getting onto his feet and stretching out a hand for me. I ignored it, standing up on my own.

I sighed as we exited the room. It was already late at night and it was indeed dangerous to walk back home myself. I suppose time went quicker than we expected.

"You can jot down your address," he said, disposing the two plastic bottles.

He led me to his car, grabbing the handle and pulling the door to his car open for me. "Just hop in."

Hesitantly, I slid into the passenger's seat and wait until Tyler climbed onto the driver's seat to hand the paper with my address written on it

"Glad you trust me-" I heard him say, causing me to freeze. Slow and deliberate, I looked back at him, fighting the urge to tell him that I did not trust him. I merely wanted to get home fast and safe. "-with your address."

He was not aware of how much it would affect me if he had not continued with his sentence.

I had been trying so impossibly hard to block everyone out of my life. It was so hard in the first few weeks when I was younger, but after a while, it became an insecurity and habit that I could not stop.

Just because I wanted to respect my father by taking his reminder - to not trust others so simply - to heart.

"We're here," Tyler announced, breaking my train of thoughts.

I flashed him a small smile, stepping out of the car and left for my apartment.

**

It was the next morning.

Reluctantly, I carried myself to the edge of my bed. I could not help but let the memories of the night before flood into my head.

I am one step closer to my goal.

My revenge will be taking place, soon enough. With the thought in mind, satisfaction courses through my body. I have planned my revenge for years, and it was about to start.

I exited my apartment, about to make my way back to school when a honk of a car startled me from behind. I turned to the direction of the sound with furrowed eyebrows.

Tyler sat inside, looking back at me with amusement.

"Climb in," his voice was muffled, but I got the message.

I dragged myself into the passenger seat once again. It was charming for him to wait outside my place. Only God knows how long he has been outside. Though I was unwilling to be so close to him, it was just six more days.

I did not have to walk to school in this period of time as well. He started up the car and began driving to our destination, all while we were sitting in comfortable silence.

I supposed he did not find the need to speak since I would not respond anyway.

I considered the ride a pleasant one until we arrived in front of a big group of pupils staring at us while we exited his vehicle.

"What is Tyler doing with her?!"

"His taste in women degraded."

"Who is she?"

Sighing, Tyler turned to face me. "Sorry, I should have asked for you to stay in the car a little longer."

"Tyler!" Ashley Hill's voice broke out, rushing towards him and clutching onto his arm. "Is she the reason you don't allow me to come over to your home?" She knew full well that I can still catch what she was saying.

"No-"

"Don't lie to me, I saw you with her yesterday behind the school's building!" she cuts Tyler off. "What's your relationship with her?"

Not wanting to listen to their conversation any longer, I looked away. I was about to leave the area when someone grabbed my wrist and tugged at me.

Tyler snaked a hand around my waist, giving Ashley a challenging look.

My jaw dropped, flashing him an incredulous stare. Why was he hinting that we were in a relationship with Ashley? I have never given them much thought, but one glance and I would think they belong.

"Are you aware that she doesn't speak? What's so special about her? Don't you think it's-"

"Stop it, Ashley," Tyler's voice was firm. I stole a glance at his face and was quite shocked to realize he was indeed mad. "You barely know her."

Neither do you, the thoughts were loud in my head.

With that last sentence, he dragged me away from the scene of desperate girls trying to get his attention.

I was frankly dumbfounded by what took place just seconds ago. Tyler would be the last person I expected to drag me out of that mess and defend me.

He lets go of my hand the moment we arrived in the hallway of the school. There were a few people loitering around, and some were simply talking in a corner. I followed Tyler to two boys beside the lockers, who I assumed he was close to.

"Where's your group of friends?" he suddenly asks. He lived in a world where friends were easy to make while I lived in the opposite. But I tell myself that I did not need any friends because they judge too much.

I shake my head, silently telling him that I did not have any. It took a few seconds to discover he has inched closer to me. "How about I introduce mine?"

"Josh? Gray?" Tyler calls out to both of the guys, but only one turns to look at him with inquisitive gazes, the other seemed too engrossed with his phone to realize his name was being called.

"Ah, this is Hope, the one I talked about," he introduces, leaving me bewildered. He has talked about me?

The guy then flashed me a captivating smile.

"I'm Josh Carson, nice to meet you."