Page 15 of Falling for the Forbidden Fighter
“I can do it,” I say.
“Louis. You don’t have to doeverything, all right? You’re not a burden. I want you here.”
I’m not a burden.
That’s all I’ve ever been. I was a burden on my parents, so they ditched me. A burden on the system, so I got tossed from house to house. I even found a way to be a burden to my unit, my ship, and got my ass tossed out of the Navy.
People like me are nothing but a drain on others.
Catherine bumps me aside, taking over the dishes. It makes me feel useless, but she doesn’t seem to mind… she seems happy to do it.
I take a few deep breaths, grab a rag, and start wiping down the counters.
“You won’t relax, will you?” she laughs. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you vacuumed and cleaned up, too. Whatever makes you feel better.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
She starts loading rinsed plates into the washer. Every time she bends down, her leg lifts so her bare foot comes off the floor and her toes point. How is she so graceful and perfect when she’s doing something as mundane as the dishes?
It’s impossible not to steal glances as that big t-shirt lifts.
“So why can’t you go to culinary school?”
Again, I feel myself getting red in the face.
“Money,” I grunt.
“Win this fight and you’ll have some money,” she says. “Win a few more and you’ll be set. You could even take out student loans.”
“Not with my discharge,” I say. “And no GI Bill.”
“But if money wasn’t an issue.” She turns to face me. “Then would you go?”
I can feel my lips moving, but all that manages to come out is: “No.”
“Why not? Seriously, if all your cooking is like that you could—“
“I’m too fucking dumb, all right?”
Catherine looks furious, sad with rage. “What?”
“I barely managed to get my GED. Barely passed the ASVAB.” I feel like punching something. My hands clench, eager to slap myself in the head. “Why do you think I was a cook instead of some munitions specialist or flight-line tech? School ain’t for me. Never has been. Theonlything I’ve ever been good at is fighting. I have to fight.”
“Hey. Hey…”
Catherine creeps toward me, cupping my face with both hands. It feels like heating pads being pressed against me, like I’m being taken into a loving embrace that I needed twenty years ago but never received. It frightens me, makes me feel unsteady and weak.
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” she says. My eyes are closed, but I feel her staring at me. “Y-you’ve had a hard life, Louis. That much is clear. But you’re not dumb. You hear me?”
“How do you know?”
“Because most boxers do it for fun. They do it to prove how manly they are. So many guys are eager to have their brain cells killed for a living… not you.” Finally, I open my eyes and let myself feel the warmth of her gaze. “You do it because you think you have to. But that’s not true.”
I scoff, keeping my arms pinned to my sides. “I’ve got no family. No savings. The Navy gave me a behavioral discharge. You know I have to report that on my job applications, right? I’ve gotnothing, Catherine.” I hold up a fist. “Thisis all I’ve ever had. If there’s any sort of road for me, it’ll be paved in blood.”
She looks like she wants to say something comforting, but nothing comes to her.
