Therapy Partners

Bryce gave her a fake glare then slowly a smirk appeared on his face, "Well I suppose you can first start off with simple things. Cause there is alot of things I don't wanna say either," he thought for a moment, "have you lived here your whole life?"
 
Roxy considered the question. It wasn't a very telling question. It wouldn't give anything away if she answered it. She knew that she was going to have to share some. But she wasn't use to opening up to anyone. "Yes I grew up here. How about you?"
 
Bryce shook his head a little as they kept walking, "Thankfully no. I was born and raised the majority of my life in Colorado. My annoying sister and I moved here with our father when I was 12."
 
"You have a sister?" Roxy asked. She had often wondered his a sibling would have changed her life. She finally concluded that having a sibling probably wouldn't have changed anything. "I'm an only child."
 
Bryce groaned, "Well yeah I have a sister. She is annoying as hell. People are surprised we are related because our personalities are the complete opposite. Although I guess I am kinda like an only child at the moment. She is at college in Ohio... I actually think she should be graduating soon."
 
Roxy studied him for a minute. "So you have nothing in common with her and your angry that she let you behind." She could see his angry in his eyes. She didn't ask what the anger. That was too personal. "So you box. Why did you choose boxing?"
 
Bryce stopped and looked at her for a moment, "Ok first off. I honestly don't give a damn if she is here or there. As long she doesn't find a way to embarrass me- which happens to be her specialty, then I don't care," he paused for a moment and sighed deciding to answer the last question just to change the subject, "I wanted to learn how to fight and I accidentley came across boxing and everyone including myself, realized I was a natural at it. I have been doing it since I was 10 and I love it."
 
Roxy nodded. She would love to learn to fight. It didn't matter to her what kind of fighting it was. Knowing how to fight would give her power. She longed for that power. She considered asking him to teach her to box but she shook the impulse off. "I threw knives fairly well."
 
Bryce raised an eyebrow as they started walking again, "Knives huh? Thats pretty cool. Too be honest I thought you were more of a fighting type of girl," he shrugged, "But that is pretty cool," he chuckles, "I always preferred using my fists... of course I refuse to hit girls. Just idiots guys that piss me off... and if course guys I have to fight against for boxing."
 
Roxy shruggs. "I would love to fight but father would never allow it. Knives are easy to get ahold of. Its easy to practice without being seen." She explained. She stopped and pulled a knife out of one of her boot. She twirled it like a boron. Than she arced her arm back and threw it as hard as she could. She hit a tree about ten feet from them.
 
Bryce leaned his back against a tree and looked at her, "Impressive. Seems like your dad is a strict man," he continued to study her as he spoke, "Well if you want you can stop by the training room at school and I can show you a few moves. Of course I won't hit you but I would be able to block and dodge."
 
Roxy walked over and pulled her knife out of the tree. "Strict is one way to describe my father." She studied him considering. It would be great to be able to learn how to fight. The question was could she hide the skill until she had enough skill to actually do some damage. "I might do that. But right now I've got to head home before my father starts to search for me."
 
Bryce nodded as they started heading back to the bikes, "Probably a good idea then if he is that strict. Although you should let me see your phone for a sec so I could put my number in there... that would probably be a good idea concidering we are partners and all."
 
Roxy hesitated. She had never put someone else's number in her phone. Partly because she didn't allow anyone close enough to warrent putting their number in her phone.. But that wasn't the only reason. She knew that her father went through her phone spying. Reluctantly she pulled it out and handed it to him. "Give me yours."
 
Bryce grabbed her phone then handed her his. He put in his number and name on her phone then gave it back to her, "Here you go. You can text or call whenever you want. Doesn't really matter to me."
 
"That will be a new experience." Roxy commented warily. She put her information into his phone and handed it back. She began fastening her helmet. "Well its been a nice hour." She told him as she revved her bike. She waved before she headed out of the parking lot.
 
He waved slightly, "Yeah see you tomorrow," he said as he watched her leave. He let out a sigh then got on his bike and drove off to his own hell whole. Even though Bryce could easily win a fight against his dad he was still tired of living with a man that is addicted to heroin and alcohol. He absolutely hated living there.
 
Roxy speed home as quickly as she dared. Her father would be waiting for her. In some ways she wished she could blsnd her father's cruelty on drugs or alcohol. But he didn't touch either. He was just a very cruel man. He was standing in the porch when she arrived. Her father was a big man. He stood 6' and weight close to 200 lb. "Your going to pay for being late girl."
 
Bryce sighed as he parked in front of his house and hopped off walking to the front door. As soon as he opened the door he saw beer cans everywhere and his dad sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and shooting up some heroin. He was clearly doped up already. Bryce grit his teeth and yanked out the needle and glared at him, "Are you fucking serious!?!"
 
Roxy winced as her father grabbed her arm and pulled her into the house. She didn't try to fight him. She know that fighting would only make things worse. As soon as they were inside he pushed her against the door. "Since you have school I can't touch that pretty face. But I will still punished you." He dragged her into the kitchen as he ripped at her clothes.
 
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