Read Torn - Part 1: The Torn Series for Free Online

close. And they calmed when caught in his gaze. He was intimidating when he was quiet like that - arms crossed, face stony. The girls were smart to hire him.
    I was sweating when we were finished; the tops of my breasts glistened with perspiration and my hair stayed put when I slicked back the wet strands. My feet hurt in the platform boots, I’d broken a nail and even the callouses on my fingers were sore from playing so hard. I was a hot mess.
    And I felt amazing.
    I was high on excitement and on the audience’s appreciation. The girls were, too - I could see it in their bright eyes and their brighter grins. We cleared our gear off the stage quickly and helped the next band move their equipment.
    I even worked up the nerve to approach Mallet and, before I could think about it and wimp out, I asked, “Where to?” I wanted to go. I wanted to be fun and spontaneous and different from the girl I was used to being.
    I wanted to move on from Tyler. At least temporarily.
    And dammit, I’m going to kiss Mallet again. Just watch me. I’ll do it first.
     

CHAPTER 4
     
    It was all well and good to tell myself I’d be bolder and braver. Acting it out was a different matter.
    This fight was on the upper west side. I shared one drink with the girls before they hustled me out the door, excited for my “almost kinda sorta date!” as they dubbed it. Both demanded that I text them updates, and Jen made me promise to text her when I got home, to let her know I was safe. It was sweet.
    The train was crowded this time. We stood elbow to elbow while holding onto the pole in the middle of the aisle.
    “I still can’t believe how many people there are sometimes,” I said, glancing around us. They were people from all walks of life, too - all races, all classes, all ages. It was so different from my college campus out in Pennsylvania, and from the suburb where I grew up. It wasn’t that neither places were diverse at all - they just weren’t quite this diverse. If I strained my ears I could hear three different languages being spoken inside our car alone.
    It was interesting and it was awesome but it was a little scary for a boring girl like me. But I’m not boring anymore, I reminded myself. Not in that outfit, not with that hair. I’m almost a weirdo.
    “You’ll get used to it,” Mallet said.
    “You grew up here?”
    “Yeah. Been in Queens my whole life.” His hand rested on my lower back as the train swerved. “Want to get drinks with us after the fight?”
    Us? “Sure!” I squeaked. I’d sort of assumed we’d hang out alone, just the two of us, but making new friends was an exciting prospect as well.
    I was shocked when we stepped inside a pretty posh-looking building instead of a gym, and even more surprised when we stepped inside the elevator and went up instead of down.
    “Lee likes to change it up sometimes,” Mallet explained, “The owner of the gym where we train. He holds the matches in different locations to attract different crowds.”
    “What kind of crowd will this be?” I asked.
    He shrugged. “More businessmen than usual. A few college dudes with their parents’ money. Good betting.”
    “Do you guys bet on each other?”
    He shook his head. “It’s more about exposure for us. Trying to get noticed.” He grinned. “You’re in the music biz. You know. It can’t be about the money in the beginning at least.”
    “Oh.” It was true. The vague goal of “making it big” involved getting rich and taking lots of limos, but I knew the path there was paved with Ramen noodles and worries about making rent.
    He slung an arm over my shoulder as we stepped outside onto the well-lit rooftop. The gesture was strangely possessive but I leaned into him anyway. I hated to admit that I was a little nervous to be there, a little concerned about the legality of all of it. A small crowd had already gathered in a big circle, but there was no ring.
    “Hang here for a bit,” he said, stopping us in the