Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(18)

We were just different enough to keep things interesting, but similar enough that we never ran out of things to talk about.

It wasn’t long before I fell in love with Mia March too. We texted every single day and eventually started video-chatting almost nightly. I started going down to Indy to spend weekends with her, during most of which she’d ditch Quarry and we’d eat junk food and laugh until midnight. Her parents even let her catch rides up to Chicago with my dad so she could visit me too.

Sure, I saw Quarry a good bit, but it wasn’t weird anymore. He and Mia were good for each other. Besides, I had met an amazing girl who I’d truly bonded with and I’d gotten Quarry back. That was enough for me.

The three of us were the true definition of best friends. They had my back and I had theirs. No matter what. We had no secrets from each other. Well, that’s not true. I still checked Quarry’s ass out every time he left a room, but that was one secret I’d take to the grave.

One night, as we shared a twelve-pack of beers Quarry had bought with his fake ID, I told them the few memories I had of my birth mother, including the night she’d died. Mia told us about how scared she had been when she’d lost her hearing to brain cancer as a kid. And Quarry told us about how screwed up he had been the first few months after Flint had been paralyzed. Mia and I ended up crying, and Quarry ended up cussing about how he needed to stop hanging out with chicks before he started his period. This was said only seconds before he threw his arms around our shoulders and pulled us in for a painful group hug.

Yeah. What I had with the two of them was more than enough for me.

Or so I lied to myself. Daily.

Mia and I spent a lot of time at Quarry’s fights. His already-successful boxing career soared to a new level over the years. There wasn’t an amateur opponent he hadn’t destroyed in the ring. Quarry “The Stone Fist” Page lived up to his name, with the majority of his wins coming by way of knockout. Mia and I, along with Eliza and eventually Flint’s girlfriend, Ash, were in the front row at every fight. The four of us rushed into the ring each time his glove was lifted into the air.

The boxing world had been waiting on baited breath for Quarry to go pro. The media covered him closer with each passing year. But, despite the excitement from the boxing community, Till and Slate refused to allow him to make the transition to professional boxing when he turned eighteen.

He wasn’t ready was what they told us.

Whether he was or not, I had no clue, but I knew for sure that he was pissed.

When Flint, Quarry’s agent, made the announcement to the media, I thought there was going to be a riot, both on the TV screen and in the middle of Till’s living room. Quarry erupted, and Till quickly told him to get the f*ck out if he wanted to act like an * under his roof. Mia and I snuck out the back door while that one played out. I love the Page family, but God, did those brothers fight. And Quarry, being Quarry, was almost always in the middle of it.

Quarry actually moved out a week later, but it wasn’t on bad terms. Till agreed to help Q get his own place since he was eighteen but not going off to college or starting the career he was so passionate about. Till also gave him five hundred bucks for his birthday to put toward the huge back tattoo he’d been planning since he had been fourteen. The excitement of those two things was enough to take the edge off him.

Mia spent a good bit of time at Quarry’s apartment. I, however, wasn’t allowed over there at all. My dad had gotten over his issues with Quarry about the same time I had. He knew we were only friends, but he did not approve of his high school daughter hanging out at a guy’s apartment. He never said anything about Flint’s house though. So, on the weekends I was in town, we’d all go over there. It worked because we all loved Ash and she somehow even managed to make grouchy Flint fun.

When it came time for me to go off to college, picking a school and a major was easy. My two best friends were deaf and living in Indianapolis. I didn’t delay in enrolling in the local university there and declaring American Sign Language as my major. Picking a roommate was equally as easy. Mia and I got an apartment right next to the college, only about ten minutes from Quarry’s.

Without the distance dividing us, Mia, Quarry, and I were inseparable.

We were living the dream of college kids everywhere.

Which only made Mia’s deceit that much more unbearable.

When I was nineteen years old, I learned that dreams didn’t exist.

Our happy lives were nothing more than the gentle melody that lulls you into a nightmare.

Mia March died three weeks before her twentieth birthday.

Parts of Quarry and me slowly died for years to come.





“MOVE!” I ROARED, PUSHING THROUGH the cameras all furiously snapping pictures around me.

“Just keep walking,” Slate said, nudging my shoulder before pushing his palm into the chest of a waiting reporter.

I wasn’t famous. Hell, I’d never even stepped foot inside the ropes of a professional ring. The only reason I’d been on the covers of magazines was because of my connections and my bloodline. But I guess when your girlfriend is put on life support the same day you’re supposed to announce your professional boxing debut, the paparazzi makes their own definition of fame.

I’d spent years wishing for the attention Slate and Till got. However, right then, I wished I could push every one of those *s into the giant pit and light that bitch on fire. Hell, given the way I was feeling, maybe I’d dive in myself.