CHAPTER 159: A GLIMPSE INTO OLIVIA’S AND MAXWELL’S PAST

Maxwell’s POV

I forced myself to stand, wiping blood and tears and dirt from my face. My whole body hurt, but I had to move. Had to get to the playground. Olivia would be waiting.

I ran, and stumbled through the alley, past the library, toward the playground. My vision was blurry with tears, my breath coming in painful gasps.

What am I going to do? What am I going to do?

When I finally reached the playground, I saw her immediately. Olivia was on the swings, kicking her legs back and forth, her ponytail swinging behind her. She was wearing a yellow sundress today, bright and cheerful, like a little ray of sunshine.

The moment she saw me, her face lit up with a huge smile. She jumped off the swing and ran toward me, arms outstretched for a hug.

But her smile disappeared the instant she got close enough to see my face.

"Maxwell!" She stopped right in front of me, her eyes going wide with horror. "What happened? You’re crying! Are you hurt?"

I couldn’t speak. The words were stuck in my throat, trapped behind the sobs I was trying to hold back.

"Maxwell, talk to me!" Olivia grabbed my hands, her small fingers wrapping around mine. "Did someone hurt you? Was it those mean boys again?"

I nodded, and the tears started flowing faster.

"What did they do?" She waa angry now. "Tell me what they did!"

So I told her. All of it. About the ambush in the hallway, the beating in the alley, and worst of all, their demand.

"They want me to bring you to them," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Tomorrow. They said if I don’t, they’ll keep hurting me and then they’ll come get you themselves. And they said... they said they’d do things to you. Bad things. Because you’re a girl."

I expected her to be scared. Expected her to run away, to tell me we couldn’t be friends anymore, that I was too dangerous to be around.

Instead, Olivia’s expression turned determined.

"Don’t worry," she said firmly, squeezing my hands. "My big brother will beat them all up. He’s super strong and he knows how to fight really good!"

"Your brother?" I blinked through my tears.

"Yeah! Kennedy! He’s the best big brother ever! He taught me how to use the pepper spray, and he knows karate and everything!" She was pulling on my hands now, tugging me toward the edge of the playground. "Come on! Come meet him! He’ll teach you how to fight too! Then you won’t have to be scared anymore!"

"But..."

"Come on!" Olivia was practically dragging me now, and despite the pain and fear and hopelessness, I found myself following her.

Because maybe there was a way out of this nightmare.

Maybe Olivia’s brother really could help.

Maybe I didn’t have to be the weak, pathetic victim anymore.

Maybe I can become someone worthy of Olivia’s friendship.

As she led me away from the playground, chatting about her brother and martial arts and how bullies were just scared people who needed to be taught a lesson, I made another silent promise.

I’ll get stronger. I’ll learn to fight. I’ll become someone who can protect you instead of always needing to be protected.

I’ll become worthy of you, Olivia. I swear it.

No matter how long it takes.

She led me through the neighborhood, still holding my hand tightly like she was afraid I might disappear if she let go. We walked for about ten minutes, turning down streets I’d never been on before, past different houses.

Finally, we stopped in front of a two-story house with a small front yard. It wasn’t as big as my family’s mansion - not even close - but there was something warm and inviting about it that my cold, empty house had never possessed. Flower boxes hung from the windows, full of colorful blooms. A bicycle was leaned against the garage. There was a welcome mat at the front door that actually looked like people used it.

It looked like a home. A real home where people actually lived and laughed and cared about each other. Not mine were my parents were never around and my brother was away in boarding school.

"Wait here," Olivia commanded, dropping my hand and running toward the front door. "I’ll get Kennedy!"

She ran inside, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, suddenly very aware of how I must look. My face was probably swollen and red from crying. My shirt had dirt stains from being thrown to the ground. My hair was a mess. I probably looked exactly like what I was - a pathetic, beaten-down kid who couldn’t defend himself.

Kennedy’s going to take one look at me and laugh. He’s going to tell Olivia she picked the wrong friend. He’s going to...

The front door opened.

Olivia came running out, dragging someone behind her by the hand. "Come on, Kennedy! Hurry!"

The boy let himself be pulled forward. When he came close enough for me to see him properly, something twisted in my chest.

Kennedy looked to be about my age - maybe twelve, possibly thirteen. But that’s where any similarity between us ended.

He was tall and lean, with an athletic build probably from sports and exercise, not from sitting around reading books all day. His dark hair looked effortlessly cool. He was wearing a soccer jersey and jeans, and even his casual clothes looked better on him than my expensive designer outfits ever looked on me.

But it wasn’t his appearance that made me wish I could be him.

It was his presence.

Kennedy stood there with a confidence I’d never possessed in my entire life. His shoulders were firm, his posture straight, his expression calm and assessing. He looked like someone who knew exactly who he was and didn’t apologize for it.

He looked like someone who could handle anything.

I wish I was him. I wish I looked like that, moved like that, existed like that.

"Kennedy, this is Maxwell!" Olivia announced, still holding her brother’s hand. "He’s my new friend! I told you about him, remember? The one I saved from the bullies?"

Kennedy’s eyes moved over me, taking in my appearance, the traces of tears on my face, the way I was hunched in on myself like I was trying to make myself even smaller.

I waited for the judgment. The mockery. The dismissal.

Instead, Kennedy nodded and said, "Yeah, I’ve seen you at the state library a few times. You’re part of the book club

there, right?"

I blinked in surprise. "You... you’ve seen me?"

"Hard not to notice someone reading in the corner every week." Kennedy’s voice was matter-of-fact, not mocking. "You’re usually reading stuff way above grade level. Last time I saw you, you had a college-level textbook."

"You noticed what I was reading?" I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice.

"I notice things." Kennedy shrugged. Then his expression turned more serious. "Olivia said some kids have been bothering you. Tell me about them."

So I told him. Everything. About Peter and his gang, about the months of bullying, about today’s ambush and beating. And finally, about their demand that I bring Olivia to them tomorrow.

Kennedy’s jaw tightened when I got to that part. "They specifically said they’d harm my sister?"

"Yes," I whispered, shame flooding through me. "They said... they said if I didn’t bring her, they’d come get her themselves. And they said they’d do things to her. Bad things. Because she’s a girl."

For the first time since I’d started talking, Kennedy’s calm composure cracked. His eyes went hard, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"Those bastards," he muttered, then seemed to remember Olivia was standing right there. "Sorry, Liv. Bad word."

"It’s okay," Olivia said seriously. "They are bastards. That’s what bad people are called."

Kennedy looked at me again, his expression determined. "Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, all three of us are going to meet those boys."

My eyes widened. "All three of us? But..."

"They want you to bring Olivia? Fine. Bring her. But I’ll be there too." Kennedy’s voice was confident, like he was stating an obvious fact. "And when they try anything, I’ll handle it."

"But there are four of them," I protested weakly. "And they’re bigger than us. Older. They’re..."

"Bullies," Kennedy interrupted. "They’re bullies. And bullies are cowards. They only pick on people who won’t fight back. The moment someone stands up to them, they fold."

"How do you know?" I asked, desperately wanting to believe him.

"Because I used to be bullied too." Kennedy said it simply, like it was no big deal. "Before I learned how to fight. Before I got taller and stronger. I know how these guys work. They’re predictable."

"You were bullied?" I couldn’t imagine it. Kennedy seemed so strong, so confident, so... together.

"Everyone gets bullied at some point," he replied with a shrug. "The difference is what you do about it. You can keep being a victim, or you can learn to fight back."

"I don’t know how to fight," I admitted in a small voice.

"Then I’ll teach you." Kennedy said it like it was simple. "Starting now."

"Now?"

"Yeah. We’ve got..." Kennedy checked his watch, "...about twenty minutes before you go home, right? Let’s use it."