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Taking a deep breath, I inhaled the humid air around me. Because of the strength of the blazing sun combinedwith the lack of wind, the air felt somewhat clogged. From behind my sunglasses, I could see the river running past the foot of the hill. It was stretching straight ahead, slithering its way between the hilltops and smaller mountains; probably disappearing into a bigger ocean. It lay peaceful, almost unmoving, as the surface glittered from the rays of the sun.

The black motorcycle helmet hung between my bent knees, my fingers fiddling with the straps.

I was leaning back against the side of my motorcycle, its front facing the small clearing we just came from. Taking a cigarette out of my jacket pocket, I lit it up before putting the filter into my mouth and breathing in, my eyes never leaving the peaceful scenery in front of me.

I rolled the cigarette around with my tongue before reaching one hand up to take it out momentarily, breathing out a cloud of smoke. My eyes followed as the cloud rose towards the sky, steadily spreading and thinning out before vanishing completely.

I couldn't stop my mind from drifting past the beauty of the view to something else; an image digging its way into my vision from the back of my head. The image that had made me turn my back to the fighting ring and retreat to the storage room after the fight.

The image of Kingston's shocked and almost horror-struck face lighting up in recognition as he realized who he had been fighting.

I knew he was the type of guy that absolutely needed to know everything going on, even the things that had nothing to do with him. I couldn't understand that; a truly ridiculous and weak trait to have.

During the short and straight forward explanation, my mind automatically imagined having my hands around his neck, wanting to make him squirm and leave without any questions.

Instead, I told him a story he absolutely had no business hearing.

I learnt how to fight at a young age. I never did afford to go to any combat training schools, so I turned to fighting on the streets to challenge myself.

I didn't want any of them to know who I was, because I didn't want to have any school connections invade my hobby. Yes, it was me the whole time. No, I was not sent here on any kind of spy mission.

Then he asked some more intimate questions: How do your parents feel about the illegal street fighting? Or haven't you told them? With your skills, you could easily get into any kind of professional classes, you know. Have you thought of that?

I had simply stared back.

He had looked away for a second, a thoughtful expression on his face.

He turned back to me. "Are you doing this for the money?"

I didn't answer, already turning away, taking the apple from the counter in the process.

"Julian? Hey, man, what are you doing back here?" Travis stepped through the push door leading from the bar to the storage room. I could feel his gaze land on my form as I froze. "Ehm, did I interrupt something?"

The silence that followed was tense.

"Wait, you know?"

Against my better judgement, I turned around.

Julian was staring back and forth from Travis and me, one of his eyebrows lifted.

"How come-"

"Yeah, he knows," I interrupted.

Travis let out a sigh of relief, his stance relaxing once again.

"Thank God, you don't know how hard it was for me to not tell him that you're living here and, you know," he motioned to me, "are a famous streetfighter and all."

I felt my eyes close for a second, as I controlled my breathing to let go of these angry feelings. My hands curled up as I felt my annoyance towards this boy grow. Letting out a quiet breath, I uncurled my hands, reminding myself that I couldn't punch my way out of confrontations all the time.

As expected, Kingston's head whipped around in my direction, his eyes widening slightly.

Travis needed to get out of the room before I lost my cool on him for revealing that part of the story. I had left my current living situation, family and money problems out of our conversation with reason.

There was no ignoring him now.

Julian didn't even bother asking any more questions. All he had to do to have my confession of what Travis had said was raise his eyebrows.

It was at that moment that I realized I had two choices. I could either confess that this was my current 'sleeping area' and give him the same explanation that I gave Travis.

Or, the definitely most appealing choice; I could simply not tell this snooping, nosy boy from school anything. Heck, I had no reason to share anything with him.

He should be happy he got the explanation he'd gotten so far.

"He's only joking," I answered flatly; however my face wasn't showing any signs of fake humour to support my lie.

Kingston looked back at Travis, at the same time I shot a cold glare at the boy as he looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

He looked back to Kingston, but I already knew he wouldn't dare say anything against my word.

The boy would be stupid to do so, and he knew that.

For me, the meeting with the boys ended when Travis had returned to his job after getting a call from a fellow bartender. I hadn't bothered to stick around with my former tutee afterwards. Therefore, with my half-eaten apple still in hand, I exited the back room of the bar shortly after. I even made a big show of exiting the bar altogether when I saw him exit as well, and just in case he started following me, I hid in the shadows of the brick wall outside.

Everything I bother doing for this one.

It turned out that he hadn't had any intentions of following me, and my hope of him not bothering me in the future grew slightly.

Maybe finding out what I did in my spare time somehow made me seem more uninteresting.

God, let that be true.

****

Kingston was still there. I had to sneak in after calming down outside the bar, my form expertly avoiding appearing in his sight. Getting through the door to the back room was trickier than I thought it would be, as that was where Kingston and the bartender, Anthony, I recalled his name, were talking.

They just had to be friends as well, didn't they? And this just had to be the very place they hung out.

Sometimes, I couldn't believe my sheer and utter misfortune in this world.

After waiting for about five minutes behind a corner, contemplating a way in, unnoticed; Kingston left, looking frustrated. He walked with a hand supporting his side, obviously still hurt from my kicks and punches in the ring.

I even felt some kind of sympathy for the boy, before remembering he only had himself to blame: both for the fight and confusion.

****

A light tickle ran up my legs and the numbness started to spread as the gravel underneath me continued to dig into my jeans.

I looked down at the stick of poison positioned between my index and middle finger.

«You really shouldn't smoke,» he had said, after burning my cigarette out against the sink in the storage room. His face had been a mask of disgust and impatience, a rare expression for the school's 'King'.

«It would be a shame if Roxy were to lose her stamina and talent simply because of a bad habit.»

Grinding it against the dirt beside me, I watched as the cigarette burned out.

My sister would be back soon anyways.

I stood back up when I heard Celine return. Her footsteps sounded loudly on the gravel as she neared me and the motorcycle.

This morning, the morning after the unfortunate meeting with Kingston, I had decided to take Celine out of the city for something to do. Packing a couple of sandwiches and water, she had woken up that morning with a smile so grateful it nearly broke my heart.

As I had been around the city and its borders many times in my search for a decent apartment, I had come upon this place. Overlooking a large river, surrounded by small mountains, the hill I sat on seemed like the perfect meditation place: a surprising contrast from the busy city centre only eleven minutes behind.

I had finally told Celine about my fighting. This time, however, her tiredness didn't overpower my confession. She had let me finish explaining our living situation and what I did to get the money we so dearly clung to. Though, I didn't tell her about our need to keep under the radar of the government in order to not be placed in foster care. That if we were brought there, we would be stuck and most certainly be separated when it came down to it. Feeling this would only upset her further, I left it out, knowing that in only seven months I would be her legal guardian anyway.

Nevertheless, she had turned upset, telling me that hiding secrets from her was a 'very bad thing to do'. I agreed.

She looked disappointed that I physically hurt people for a living. Had I told her I actually got a thrill from doing it, she probably would have started throwing stuff at me as well; trying to physically beat the unbelievably 'bad Cassie' out of me.

If only she knew.

When she calmed down, she announced that she needed to pee. I watched her walk to a boulder behind some trees, not really knowing what to make of the statement after telling her my secret.

All I knew was that I couldn't lose her. She was my rock; she held me grounded. She was what fulfilled my pitiful life.

She was seven, soon to be eight in not too many days, and she was far from stupid. She had every right in the world to know what I did. I would give everything in the world for her to be happy and to live a normal, free life. As I myself couldn't live up to the name our mother had given to me.

Cassandra Joy Haynes. How ironic.

As I listened to her hurried steps in my direction, I knew I wanted Celine to be the "Joy" in my name.

I was about to jokingly ask her what took her so long, but caught myself when I heard her laboured breathing.

Springing up to my feet, I faced her approaching form. Her face was slightly redder than usual and filled with worry as she began running when she saw me.

"What is it?" I asked, closing the short distance between us without hesitation. I grabbed her arms and my eyes swept over her form for any injuries before looking toward the path she came from.

Only leafless trees spurted from the mattered grass and gravel.

"I think someone was watching me," she answered, her voice low and hushed. "I heard the leaves rustle, and when I looked- "she paused, breathing in and out before continuing. "-I saw a- a shadow move behind a tree."

Not needing any more information I quickly strapped my helmet over her head and settled her on the motorcycle in front of me. My eyes quickly swept over our surroundings, my body ready to fight if anything were to jump out.

Pulling the screen of the helmet over Celine's eyes, I kicked up the stand, and started the engine.

Had I been there alone, I would have no doubt faced the problem. Now, however, I had my little sister to protect from possible danger. For all I know, the shadow could have been both an animal or a human. From the quiver in her voice and worried face, it must have been something much bigger than a fox.

The silence on the hill was abruptly cut by the roaring of the starting motorcycle. Without looking back, we soared through the path of trees towards the city as fast as I dared with Celine on it.