y music of choice for the ride home is Tupac. I think it will calm me the way it always does when I listen with Max, but all it does is remind me of him, and all that does is remind me of Marnie – more specifically, everything she said.

Tears sting my eyes as I slow for the lights. This trial shift was supposed to be about finding my independence and showing my parents I don't need their money, but all it did was give Marnie the chance she was looking for to ruin me, and it worked.

The traffic is heavy and slow-moving, and I can feel my frustration rising with every inch forward. Cars merge onto the highway, cutting in front of me and causing me to slam on the brakes, which acts as the final straw. I pound on the horn, tears flowing like an open tap as I take out my frustration on the driver in front, and it would almost be comical if it weren't so depressing. The driver beside me looks through their window like I've lost my damn mind, and they're right.

When I finally get through the traffic to the gym, I park outside and take a deep breath, too afraid to go up. I want to believe that Max will accept me for me no matter what, but the way he walked out of the diner tonight makes me worried.

What if he can't?

I turn off the engine, locking the door behind me as I head up the steps. The gym is busier than usual, and most of the equipment is already in use as people fit in their sessions after work. I turn and scan each member, hoping to find Max, but he's nowhere to be seen.

Panic rises through me as I move toward the office, praying he's waiting inside, but the lights are off and the bed as untouched as we left it this morning. It doesn't mean anything: maybe Max returned home to change, and he'll meet me here later. Or perhaps he needed to grab a few things or was given a last-minute shift. There are thousands of reasons why he hasn't made it back, all of which have nothing to do with me.

But even as I think it, the voice in my head whispers, don't be stupid. What if Max doesn't want to see me? What if, for the first time since I ran away from home, he doesn't want to stay with me? What if I have to sleep alone?

I tell myself to get a grip. There's no point thinking of the worst right now, and even if that were the case, even if Max stayed home tonight, it's not the end of the world. We can talk tomorrow once we've both cooled off, and everything will be okay again.

I'm sure of it.

Needing a distraction, I change into my gym wear and head back inside. The treadmill should work, or maybe a few sets on the heavyweights, but then I catch a glimpse of the ring in the corner, where Maddie and Hayden are sparring.

The pair are smiling as they circle each other, trying to find an opening. Maddie throws a jab, one Hayden dodges, before the pair return to their stance. She throws a one-two, but he sidesteps and counters with a jab to her helmet – not exactly a powerful hook, but it knocks her off balance.

She stumbles back, trying to regain it, and the glint in her eye suggests she's nowhere near giving up. She charges forward, throwing a series of jabs and crosses that catch Hayden off guard. He throws an uppercut, but she blocks it and meets him with a hard right hook that connects with his mouth.

He stumbles back, just for a second, and spits out the blood in his mouth. Lifting his gaze, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as a glint of pride fills his eyes. Maddie smiles back and swoops forward, kissing his cheek before spotting me over his shoulder.

"Alyssa," she says, waving, but something about my expression gives her pause. She glances at Hayden, frowning as she breaks from his embrace to move toward the ropes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say with a wave of my hand. "I'm just going to train."

"Well, do you want to spar?"

I bite my lip, not wanting to get in the middle of them, but the idea of punching someone right now, even if it's someone I like, sounds pretty good. "Let me grab my gloves," I say and hurry to the equipment box.

When I've finished taping my hands, I grab one of the helmets and pull a pair of gloves from the box. My heart pounds as I fasten them around my wrists, my thoughts still focused on Max, but fighting with Maddie is the distraction I need, so I head toward the ring.

Adrenaline runs through me as I slip through the ropes. It used to be that the idea of fighting terrified me, but now I get this sense of power as soon as I step onto the canvas. Something about the ring makes me strong, stronger than I've ever felt, and I'm determined to hold onto it.

Across from me, Maddie adjusts her helmet and circles me. I can see the determination in her gaze, certain the same look is mirrored in mine. For some people, talking things out is therapeutic enough, but for others, this is therapy.

When Hayden gives the go-ahead, we both move forward, circling each other. I take a risk and throw an early jab, but she ducks and lands a hard right hook on my ribs. I squeak in pain and retaliate with a flurry of punches, trying to overpower her. She swerves and dodges, as light as a butterfly evading capture.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asks. "Or am I going to have to punch it out of you?"

I smile and throw a quick one-two that scrapes the side of her helmet. A few months ago, I'd never have landed a single hit, which means Maddie is right; if I keep on training, I'll be ready to fight. "Max found a few things out about me," I say, and a surge of anger powers through my hit as I knock Maddie back. "I doubt he'll want to speak to me again."

Maddie frowns at the same time circles me. "He loves you," she says. "He wouldn't leave over that."

"You don't even know what he found out."

"Did you kill somebody?"

"No?"

With a grin, she dodges my next hit and counteracts with a cross-combo. "Because even then, Max is so obsessed with you that he'd probably take the fall for you. Whatever he found out, I think you're okay."

For the first time all evening, the knots in my stomach untighten. I think about how much it has taken for us to be together: two different worlds, a fight with his brother, my whole world imploding – there's no way a few bad deeds from my past could make him walk away.

With a drop of her shoulder, Maddie side-steps around me. I see an opening and take it, landing a hard uppercut to her cheek that sends her stumbling back. She recovers quickly and comes at me with a series of jabs, but I'm not fast enough to block them all. I cover my face, about to concede, when Hayden calls Maddie's name from the sidelines.

We swivel our heads to where Hayden stands by the ropes, clutching his phone as he shrugs on a jacket. I straighten up, ignoring the sting that travels through my skin and watch as his dark gaze settles on Maddie.

"It's Max," he says with a glance at me, "he's in jail."

The word ingrains itself in my head but doesn't quite sink in. I grab the rope to steady myself and look down at Hayden. "Jail? How?"

Hayden shrugs like he's not too clear on the details. "He said he hit some kid earlier, and the cops showed up at his house to arrest him. He asked me to post his bail, but I'm not sure I have enough money."

I blink slowly, barely able to register his words. While I've been obsessed over whether he'll leave me, he's been sitting in a jail cell.

"What can we do?" Maddie asks. "We have to help him."

My head snaps up. Determined Alyssa pushes to the forefront, the one who always thrives in a crisis. "I'll ask my parents," I say, because even though it's a terrible idea, I have to do something. "Maddie, I'll message you to let you know if it works. If it doesn't–" I freeze. If it doesn't, then what? I don't have a penny to my name now that my parents have cut me off, and there's no one else we can ask to post bail, which means Max will be stuck there.

"If it doesn't, we'll think of something," Maddie says.

I swallow hard and push back the doubts before ripping off my gear. Without bothering to shower, I run down the gym's steps so fast that I almost trip over, but I don't care. Hands shaking, I head to my car and start the engine. The drive to my house is a blur of doubt and panic. Asking for their help is a colossal mistake, but when the alternative is for Max to suffer, it doesn't feel like a choice. I fight through traffic, which has eased somewhat now that I'm outside of rush hour, and park the car before walking up the drive.

My breaths come slow and heavy in the silence. I knock on the door, waiting for their shadows to appear through the glass, but the house remains unmoving. Panic grips my throat – I hadn't considered they might not be in – and I knock again, this time more frantic. Another second passes. Just when I think that no one's going to answer, the door opens.

My parents stand huddled in the door's large archway. Mom looks smaller somehow, her cheeks slightly sunken compared to Dad's round face, and her nightgown is almost falling off her. My chest tightens, because as much as I hate the things that they do, I don't want to see them suffer.

Silence fills the doorway as we stand unmoving. Suddenly, my mother gives in, and she pulls away from Dad. "You're home," she says and throws her arm around me.

I swallow the lump in my throat and wrap my arms around her. Maybe it's stupid, but even after everything they've done, I can't help but miss them. "I'm not home," I say before pulling back, and her face breaks like glass. "I'm sorry, I just–" I take a deep breath, not anticipating how hard this would be, "–I need to borrow some money."

Mom glances at Dad, but neither of them speaks. Dad, for the most part, refuses to look at me, which tells me this is pointless. Still, I'm nothing if not determined. "Please," I say. "Max got arrested for standing up for me against Justin. I need to post his bail."

Dad's eyes darken at the same time Mom's mouth falls open. "Listen to what you're asking us to do," she says. "You want us to bail your boyfriend out of jail, and you still think this is the guy for you?"

"It was Justin's fault," I say, stepping forward, and it's Mom I focus on. "Please, if you love me at all, just do this one thing for me."

She shakes her head, as if the very idea is too much to fathom. It was a lot to ask, given the circumstances, but what other choice did I have? "I'm sorry," Mom says, "but there's no way. Just come home, Alyssa. We can–"

"Forget it," I say, turning around, "I'm sorry to bother you." I barely leave the porch before Dad speaks out.

"We'll bail him out," he says, and I'm so surprised that I'm about to throw my arms around him, "we'll bail him out, and we'll get Justin to drop any charges – if you stop seeing him."

There it is, I realize – the fine print on the offer because, as it turns out, nothing in life is free. I stare back at them, heart racing with indecision, but saying yes to their offer would mean they've won, and my future with Max will be over – a future I'm not ready to give up on.

Eyes closed, I push away the tears and step back. The old me would have fallen for their manipulative tactics, would have jumped at the chance, even if it meant staying under their control, but after everything that happened with Justin, I can't. Part of being strong is learning to say no, so with one last look, I do.

✋🏼