Twelve Years Later

Over the next week, Knox and I fell into a routine that wasn’t doing good for any of us. While he didn’t have a job, I was doing whatever I could with the given situation. I was going to school, but there wasn’t a single time when I was doing homework or assignments that I needed to submit to the finals. Even my grades were going down, which was terrifying. My teachers were worried about my future. The straight-A student was getting a B, and a C wasn’t a piece of good news for anyone.

The three jobs that I had thankfully stayed with me due to Knox’s constant visits to my workplace painted me red in the eyes of my employer. One evening, Teddy, my convenience store owner, pulled me aside and asked me what I was doing with that boy.

“He is a friend,” I replied.

“He doesn’t look like someone with whom you spend time,” he said, frowning.

“Looks aren’t everything, Teddy. You can’t judge a person based solely on the tattoos on their hands,” I said, smiling.

“So, you are
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