Page 113 of Hits Different

“Jack lost his father last year”. Something rips me inside out and back again. “His mother’s not in the picture. He mentioned you’d given him some good advice”.

“I just talk to him like a normal person”. A highlight reel plays through my mind. The principal’s office. My mom laying into me. My dad placating her, his words filtering through the closed doors. I remember them from then, and repeat them now. “The way you talk to kids is the way that they talk to themselves”.

“That’s very true”. Genevieve sighs. “It can be scary for a kid, even one who pretends he doesn’t need anyone, on that path to adulthood. How long have you been studying social care?”

“Oh, I’m not a student”. I correct her, with a laugh, “I work at Summit. My dad did a lot of community work. I guess some of it rubbed off on me”.

“It’s rare we find someone able to speak to kids on their own level. Particularly young men. The problem is that they have nowhere to go. They finish school, age out of care, and then what?”

“I really don’t think I did anything”.

“You’d be surprised”, she touches my arm warmly. Like a mom would. “You’re making more of a difference than you realise”.

* * * *

“It sucks, but Zara’s right”, Brandon says firmly.

“I thought you’d be on my side”, I grumble. It’s late in the afternoon, and this queue isn’t moving. I managed to coax Jack into attending his study group by promising that he could come and watch my match. Hopefully Genevieve’s cool with it.

“I’m on the side of whoever’s making sure you don’t get your ass kicked in the middle of a locked cage”. Brandon pauses. “There was another reporter here today”.

“What?” I grip the phone tightly, “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I handled it. Like a man”.

“What did that look like?”

“Hiding in the bathroom. Just another day in the life of the Artful Dodger”. I have missed his voice. “It’s almost enough to make a guy…”

“Make a guy, what?”

“Come out. Publicly. I never thought I’d need to. Figured by the time I turned pro, shit like this wouldn’t matter anymore. Now I just want to say it, then it’s out there. And if that’s all anyone can talk about, so be it”.

“That’s pretty huge”. My voice grazes the speaker.

“I know. But it’s not just about me”.

“Please don’t tell me you’re basing your decision off what Chief Douche-Lord might say”. The woman in-front of me turns and gives me a disapproving look, “Because you’re the only person that matters here”.

“I was thinking about you. I don’t need another reason to not see you in person”, he says, in a way that makes me will him to my side. “I’m thinking about my dad too. He’s up for re-election. I don’t want to make things hard for him. Harder. Where are you anyway?”

“Almost home”, I cross my fingers. I’m nearing the front of the queue. “Then an early night before tomorrow. I’ve told you about Jack, right?”

“If by told me about, you meancomplained about at length, then yes”.

“It’s been on my mind”, I explain what Genevieve told me about his background. “That’s dumb, right?”

Brandon doesn’t reply. He’s good like that. “With my MMA stuff, I know it’s gonna make my dad proud. That helps me cope. Whenever I miss him, I know that following in his footsteps keeps us connected. I don’t think that Jack has anything like that”.

Brandon’s quiet for a moment. “That’s why you’re doing MMA? For your dad?”

“I told you that”.

“No, I know. But you’re doing it foryoutoo, right?”

“I mean, sure. I guess. What’s the difference?”

“I’m not judging, believe me. My entire life to this point has been some kind of Freudian clusterfuck, but you want to fight because it’s whatyouwant, not just because you think it’s what he wanted for you, right?”

---