“You don’t need to do that. My family is rich. They’ll help us with whatever they need.”
“I don’t want to rely on your parents. How many times do I have to tell you this? I want to be my own man, make my own way in the world!” Charlie’s voice grew angry— like he thought asking my parents for help was some kind of charity.
“You said we’re family. And family helps family,” I insisted. “My parents wouldn’t care if we asked for help.”
Charlie scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Because I’ve definitely made a good impression on your dad already. Let’s just go asking for handouts.”
“Why are you being so stubborn?” I stomped my foot. I knew Charlie had relied on himself his whole life, but didn’t he realize he didn’t have to do that anymore? He had me, and I had resources. I just wanted him to use them!
“I’m fucking poor. I have nothing to offer you, and I know you’re used to a certain kind of lifestyle,” Charlie said. “This is gonna set us up once we graduate. I’ll have money tucked away for us.”
I felt gravely insulted. So I liked nice things, but they were nothing compared to Charlie. We hadn’t really talked about this, but it was an unspoken understanding that wherever we went once we got out of here, we’d go there together.
“I wouldn’t care if I lived in a cardboard box, so long as I was with you,” I said.
“You say that, until you’ve lived in a cardboard box.” Charlie crossed his arms bitterly. “It’s different when you actually have to. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“Why would you even want to fight?” I shook my head. “You can’t tell me it’s just for the money. I know you. Getting your face turned into a pulp for a few bucks isn’t worth it.”
“It’s my hobby. I like to fight,” Charlie insisted.
“Getting the shit kicked out of you isnota hobby!”
“Tons of people fight for a hobby! There’s boxing, mixed martial arts—”
“Those are all regulated sports,” I said. “The fight club is an illegal ring, where guards manipulate inmates for entertainment! Charlie, they’re exploiting you!”
“I don’t need one of your social justice lectures, thanks. I know how it works.”
“Ancestors, I’m not fucking protesting at a rally or some shit. I think the fight club is a bad idea because Icareabout you.”
“So they’re using me. What’s the harm, as long as there’s a benefit?” Charlie asked. “I get paid. The guards let me do whatever I want— they look the other way when I ask. That’s beneficial for both of us.”
A sick feeling settled in my gut. I knew part of this was my fault. I was always getting into some kind of mess with the guards.
Oberi whined again, like our arguing was bothering him.
“If you’re trying to protect me, you don’t need to,” I insisted. “We can be safe another way, without you putting your body on the line.” This was too similar to how Charlie had sold himself to those women for a place to stay, and it made me sick.
“It’s not like that. Fighting makes me feel powerful. It gives me a rush,” Charlie insisted. “During the Darke Games, I was finally in my element. I don’t feel alive unless I’m in danger. And once my arm gets better, I’m going back out there.”
I hated to analyze him, but he was just repeating the same patterns he’d been stuck in all his life, because he didn’t know any better.
I wouldn’t say that to him, though, because I didn’t want to make him upset. “It’s not safe. If I had known this is what you’d been doing, I would’ve tried to stop it. I only gave you space because—”
“Because you thought I was sleeping with Chancey?” His voice was harsh. “It makes me pissed you think I’d mess around with someone else. I’m only interested inyou, Ava.”
I felt a blush creep over my cheeks and breasts. “I said we weren’t exclusive.”
“Big fucking deal. Like it means anything.” His words implied something that was too much for me to handle.
My voice got small. “Isn’t there some other way you can feel… alive?”
“You don’t get it. My whole life, I’ve been invisible. Nobody cared if I lived or died. But in the ring, when the crowd is calling my name, Imeansomething. I’m no longer worthless. I’m making my mark on the world.”
“You don’t have to fight to earn love,” I said quietly. “You’re not worthless to me. You never have been.”
Why wasn’t I enough?
