4

PAIGE

Being at the same university as Ashton hasn't changed my life much. We avoid each other, so everything's fine, everything's normal. The one I've seen more often is his little girlfriend, I catch her looking at me and laughing with her friends, and I want to throw something at them and wipe that smirk off their faces.

On Thursday morning, Owen does something he hadn't done before, and that's asking about his father. He does it directly while the three of us have breakfast, and I'm left with a spoonful of cereal halfway to my mouth.

"'Dad'," he calls out.

I look at Jo, who also doesn't know what to do. He does draw him, all three of us, and he laughs, but he's never called him that before, and he starts crying for him. I have to set aside my breakfast and take him out of his kitchen chair to try to calm him down. I put my hand on the back of his neck and make circles with my finger. It's hard to get him to calm down, and I feel really bad leaving Jo with Owen whimpering in a way I'm not used to.

"He's never done it before," she says.

"No. I think seeing us together has touched him."

Jo rubs his back.

"He's at that age where he cries over everything, and he sees him very little, too..."

"I know," I cut in.

I know that seeing him every other weekend is very little, it's only two days, and although it doesn't bother me that Ashton tells me he wants to see him more, he rarely asks. I also don't know what kind of lifestyle he leads, I don't know if having a child affects his life like it does mine, and I don't know if Owen is a hindrance in his life during the week, so he hardly sees him during these days.

That's the only reason why I try to find him during the time I'm on campus. I can lose some of my time to do good for Owen.

I push open the exit door of my faculty and descend the stairs, sheltering myself from the cold wind in my coat. Whenever I see him, it's in the same direction, lately I see a lot of his little girlfriend around. I stop at the last step and take a deep breath, preparing myself mentally for what will likely be a difficult conversation with him, especially if he's with his girlfriend.

"'Girl with pretty eyes'," I hear someone say very close by. 'I see you're lost.'

Samuel stands in front of me and smiles. I have to lift my head to look at him, and I smile faintly. I bump into Samuel a lot; he studies biochemistry in the faculty next door, and he seems like a pretty nice guy even though there are moments when it's too obvious what he's trying to do with me.

"No, I'm done," I tell him.

"Lucky you, I still have two classes," he comments. "And... will you come to the party this weekend?"

"Ummm... I'm going out on Saturday with a friend, maybe we'll stop by."

Yeah, if Jo's plan doesn't work out, we can always end the night at my first university party.

"Great," he smiles. "I hope to see you there."

I smile. After what happened with Ashton, I didn't refuse sex; I lost my virginity to him on a crazy night and got pregnant as a teenager; now I just have to be more careful. I like to enjoy myself, and I'm young; I just have to take more cautious steps in my adventures.

"Maybe you will," I tease.

Samuel shakes his head with a smile, and when he moves away from me, I find Ashton looking at me from the building across the street. He's almost peeking around the corner, but he looks at me very blatantly with his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. Samuel looks over there, and I hear him snort.

"Do you know him?" he asks me.

"Sort of."

"Be careful with him, he's an asshole."

What? It makes me raise an eyebrow, and when I catch him, he and Ashton glare at each other. What's wrong with them?

"Do you know him?" I inquire.

Samuel shrugs and looks at me.

"He's a bastard, I've had some run-ins with him off-campus."

I don't know why it surprises me. I've never known much about Ashton, but I do know he's gotten into a lot of fights. He looks like the type who wouldn't hesitate to break your face.

I sway on my heels, adjusting the strap of my backpack, and say goodbye to Samuel, starting to walk towards Ashton. I raise my hand to get his attention, but then his girlfriend appears and grabs him by the arm. It's important; I want to talk about our son, but he puts his hand on the ass of that dumb blonde and raises his eyebrows almost challenging me.

What the fuck does he think he's doing? I just want to talk about Owen. I couldn't care less about the rest of the things he does.

I never thought it would feel like a kick in the ass for Ashton to ignore me. But he does. When he grabs her ass tighter and goes off with her, it feels like a kick in the ass to me. He's an idiot. It also angers me; I clench my fists and give up, changing direction towards my car. Seriously? Did he really leave with his girlfriend instead of paying attention to me? Couldn't his stupid mind figure out that it was obvious that the only thing that connects us is Owen? Damn it!

I get into my car, throwing mental insults at him, and I give the buttons for the heating a somewhat hard punch.

"Fucking stupid asshole," I mutter.

The anger makes me pick up the phone and browse through my conversations until I find his phone number. All our messages are short and brief, asking about Owen; this is the first message I send of this type:

I just wanted to talk about Owen. But don't worry, keep with your fucking immaturity.

I reluctantly throw the phone onto the passenger seat, and the only thing that calms me down is being at the nursery with Owen, where Jo informs me that he's done it again, he's had another tantrum looking for his father.

ASHTON

I read the message and it makes me feel like a complete asshole.

"Come on..." Faye purrs and squeezes my dick over my pants.

"Get off," I spit and push her away.

Her face contorts, but I don't care. Damn. What a fucking asshole.

Owen clouds my mind, and I couldn't care less that this bitch is in my car. I call Paige and lean over to open the door for her to leave. Faye looks at me and tries again to jerk me off over my pants. I grab her wrist with enough force to make her look at me with fear.

"What the fuck part didn't you understand?" I shout. "Get out of my damn car."

"Ash..." Faye furrows her brow and tries to soften me up. That shit doesn't work with me, and she knows it. She angrily grabs her backpack from her feet and becomes another shitty brat. "You're an asshole. Enjoy jerking off, I hate you!"

Yeah, that's what she always says, and then she opens her legs again at the slightest opportunity. The car shakes from the force with which she slams the door. I try calling again, but nothing. Instead, I receive a new message from Paige:

He's fine. It's very considerate of you to bother thinking now.

Each word is laced with venom, meant to hurt me because Owen is the only thing that can hurt me in this life. She manages to screw me up, makes me feel like a shitty father and a real immature guy. I chose a fucking bitch like Faye over attending to the mother of my child. I don't care about Paige as a woman, as the girl she still is; I care about her as the mother of my child, and if she's okay, then Owen is okay. What the hell made me such an asshole? I don't care who she talks to, but that asshole is a bastard. I don't want him bringing my son into his house if Owen is there. I can see now that his choices aren't the best. First me, and now that asshole... That's usually what happens when your parents are ultra-Catholic and controlling; the worst daughters come out of those.

"Fuck," I shout, and the anger with myself makes my fist hit the steering wheel. The horn blares, and a couple of idiots from the campus get scared. Useless pricks.

I drive angry, the rage building up in my fists, and I pull the handbrake at the gym in the industrial estate. I don't even know if this shit can be called a gym. There's nobody inside, and the few lights illuminate the punching bags and the ring. Things slip out of my hands when I throw the first punch uncontrollably, and the punching bag swings. I don't stop, I feel like a jerk. What if it had been important? If it had been, Paige isn't like me, even though it pisses me off, she would've told me, she would've insisted. But there's something she has to talk to me about because we share a child, and I chose to screw a bitch. Everything is shit. What if it had been worse? What if Owen needs me? Fuck!

I screwed up this weekend, he spent hours crying, looking for his mother. He loves her more than me, and it's normal. I don't even deserve him to love me.

"Hey! Hey!"

Apolo pushes me in the chest and separates me from the punching bag. I don't even know when I took off my shirt; the tattoos shine with sweat, and I breathe more heavily.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I shout.

"No, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm training."

"You're trying to kill it. Save it for tomorrow."

I take a breath and brush my hair away from my face with force.

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"Fight at ten. Ian's in, but if you want to go..."

"Put me in," I don't hesitate to say it. I need it, and the money is fucking good.

Apolo nods, and as he moves away, I go back to the punching bag. I hit it three times until he stops me again, and that pisses me off too.

"Put on the wraps if you're going to do that, and I told you not to train in jeans."

"I came from college."

"Oh, right," he mocks. "The architect."

I sigh. He's my friend, but he couldn't care less about what the hell I do with my life. I'm only studying because I can't live off illegal boxing my whole life, not if I want Owen.

"Shut the fuck up."

"I see you're not fucking that blonde anymore today."

"It's Owen."

Apolo puts a hand on the punching bag and stops it.

"Is the little guy okay?" he asks me.

"Yeah... I think so. His mother enrolled in my college."

"Uh... a crazy obsessed woman," he laughs. "Wants to play families?"

"No. I don't think so."

Two years have passed, we have a son, and we're not even friends. I found out her last name thanks to Owen's birth certificate because otherwise, I wouldn't even know that.

"So?"

I scoff, and I clench my fists again.

"She wanted to talk about Owen, and instead of talking about my son, I picked up Faye, and I was going to screw her. No wonder he loves her more."

Every word hurts me more. It pisses me off to think like this, and it pisses me off to know that I deserve it.

Apolo steps away from the punching bag, my jaw hurts from anger, and my temples throb. I raise my arm, and with a closed fist, I make the punching bag move until it squeaks on the ceiling hook. It pisses me off. It pisses me off to be an asshole. How the hell did I get a kid pregnant? Why the hell did she give me her virginity for a moment? And without a damn condom? Fuck. It's the only thing I seem to have become aware of, fucking chicks with a condom and quitting alcohol and marijuana.