Page 77 of Encounter

“Um... There’s a bus station close by, Rosewood Park.”

“Alright,” he uttered, and I heard him huff like he stood up. “Sit tight there. You’ll be able to get your rage out in no time.”

?

“My, my. You’re much better at this when you’re pissed off.” Sitting on the bench next to me with a playful expression, Chast watched while I took the boxing gloves off.

I was trembling, probably red as a tomato and drenched in sweat, but the last thirty minutes felt like the best thing in the world.

“I kind of wish I’d get like this more often,” I said, snorting. Tiredly, I put the gloves next to me and leaned against the wall, watching the few buff, scary looking men spread out throughout the gym do their thing. Some of them lifted such an intense amount of weight even Chast would probably pale in comparison. “Usually, I just get really depressed. Today was... an exception.” I took my glasses off, sighing deeply.

Feeling his eyes on me, I glanced at Chast and noticed how he kept fidgeting with the cigarette case in his hands.

“You can go and have a smoke. I think I’m too tired to even stress about all these totallynotscary criminals here,” I said.

Visibly pleased by my bravery, Chast grinned and shook his head, resting against the wall behind us as well. “I’m good. I’ve really been tryin’ to cut down. Like you said—it ain’t good for me.” When our eyes met, I wondered if he was in such a good mood because we hadn’t seen each other in a while or simply because he was getting better and close to jumping back to work.

Usually, people get really grumpy when they stop smoking, don’t they?

Even when I looked down, shying away from the intensity of the stare, I felt his gaze on me.

As the buzz of it all dissipated, tiredness spread evenly throughout my body, and my mind had time to settle. All the worries I tried to run away from started coming back. Not in such intensity as before, but they were still there. No matter how good I felt after punching a bag for half an hour, it wasn’t going to make it go away.

Chast must have noticed, asking, “So, what was it that made you call? What did you and your old man argue about?”

It was hard for me to believe he really cared, but the way his tone softened, almost turning velvety, made it nearly impossible for me to stay closed off.

“It was me who brought up something. Something I know always... ends with me being upset and Dad dismissing me,” I said, staring at my fingers as I intertwined them together in my lap. “For some stupid reason, I felt brave enough to try and ask him about my Mom. It’s this topic that’s... surrounded by landmines.” Sighing, I paused, wondering if I should keep going.

“What is it that you wanted to know?”

“Anything, really,” I chuckled bitterly. It was ridiculous—how damnsimplewas what I wanted from him.Anything at all.“I barely know anything about that side of me. It’s like because she... killed herself, she never even existed. And now, besides how I look and my DNA, Dad... expects me to be just like him.” Drawing my brows together, I paused for a moment. Chast listened patiently, making me feel like I could say more, even though I wasn’t really sure if it was a good idea to dig that deep. “But I don’t resemble him on the inside or the outside, and the only person Idoresemble looks-wise, I know nothing about. I feel like... an impostor, or something. And I don’t even think that would change if he did suddenly tell me everything.”

Not knowing who you are... it’s a normal teenage angst, right? He must think I’m so boring and predictable.

Sniffling, I looked to the side and tried to push everything rising to the surface aside with an awkward laugh. Chast kept quiet, which was beginning to worry me.

When I finally got the courage to glance at him, his gaze was strangely focused on me. Like... he stared right atme.

“You know, I think that even if you always knew everythin’ about her, it wouldn’t change the impact what happened to her had on you,” he said, in a way that made it clear he chose his words with a lot more care than was typical for him. “Having that role vacant in your lifedoesleave a mark on ya either way...”

I put my glasses back on in a panicked attempt to buy some time for me to figure out how to respond to it.

It almost sounded like... he was hinting at something about himself. Chast was so vulnerable with me, even though we were still sitting in the gym and there were people around. Was it too risky to ask him about it plainly? I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Before I had the chance, he beat me to it. “My mother’s alive. As far as I know,” he noted swiftly. “Didn’t... mean to make it sound like she ain’t. We just don’t speak. She returned to Lebanon when I was little.”

Hearing Chast open up to me—even if it was only because I did, and he didn’t want me to feel awkward—made me feel like being wrapped in a warm, soft blanket. When I looked at him, he played with the cigarette, slotting it in and out of the package.

“Did you grow up only with your father?” As soon as I said it, I realized how similar that made us. Almost gave me chills—the thought of us having something more in common. Something meaningful, important.

“Unfortunately,” Chast said, with clear displeasure and bitterness. “Don’t really mean to make you feel like you aren’t allowed to be angry at your father by tellin’ you the shit mine did, though.”

He probably said it to get off the topic, but being my awkward, socially inept self, I jumped in with, “You wouldn’t.”

Looking up at me hesitantly, there was a faint and somewhat melancholic smile on his face. I kept waiting for the moment where he would put a break on the conversation, where he would realize he was for some reason letting me get too close and stop, but he didn’t.

“Well, my father was the boring-ass stereotype of an abusive, mean drunk. By that, I mean he was abusive and mean—and he’d drink on top ofthat. I suppose you could say my mother was dignified and smart enough to leave before she got in too deep. When it got real bad—I think I was around seven—she packed her bags and moved back home. Didn’t take me with her,obviously. I guess she thought I would turn up the same way as my father. Or saw too much of him in me. I dunno... Can’t really blame her,” Chast said, scoffing.

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