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“Okay, yes.”
“Do you have a girlfriend—” I quickly caught myself and remembered how his stepbrother made me feel like maybe Patrick was gay or bi. But that could have just been his brother picking on him or trying to create a problem. “Or boyfriend,” I quickly added. “Or both?” I chuckled and tore the paper off the bandage.
“I don’t have either.”
“Well, like I said, stop being a stranger and come have lunch with me and my friends Monday. Maybe I can find you a girlfriend or boyfriend or both,” I replied. I noticed how red his face got.
His nod made me feel like maybe I knocked down a small barrier he had in place. Maybe he was afraid to let anyone see who he really was or get close to him. My stomach dropped when I thought about the assholes he lived with.
“Thanks for the bandages,” he said quietly as we headed downstairs.
Back in the kitchen, Mom pointed toward the small stack of plates on the end of the kitchen island.
“Grab a plate and help yourselves,” she said as she pulled down some glasses from the cupboard. “Morgan, sweetie, come pour the drinks, please.”
With a plate in hand, Chase hopped around the kitchen island while Dad came over and said hello to Patrick again. The three of us started talking about the trainers we’d met this afternoon and how versatile and diverse of a fighter I’d be. I was still in shock over the whole thing. Mom and Morgan ended up joining the conversation as everyone filled their plates. I helped Chase get two slices of cheese pizza and then glanced at Patrick.
“He only likes cheese pizza,” I said to Patrick, in case he feared the only kind of pizza we ate was cheese.
“There’re other kinds in the other boxes,” Dad said as he pulled the other boxes out from under the box of cheese pizza.
Chase gasped and pointed to the bowl of chips. Standing behind the chip bowl, with his hands on top of the rim, was Hulk Hogan. Chase was so eager to reach for the action figure that he hadn’t paid attention to the plate in his hand, and the slices of pizza just about slid off. I caught the side of his plate and took it out of his hands and carried it to the table to set it down at his seat. Chase explained to Patrick how Hulk Hogan made his appearances often in the house.
“That’s really cool,” Patrick said as he put food on his plate.
Thankfully Chase was pretty quiet during dinner. He faced the TV and watched the TCF preshow while the rest of us chatted as we ate.
“Did you injure your hand at karate?” Morgan asked Patrick.
Patrick shook his head and then reached for his glass of water. My heart pounded as I waited to hear what he’d say.
“In the yard this afternoon. I was planting a few small shrubs. I scratched them on the plastic containers,” he explained.
Mmhmm.
As I looked at him over the rim of my glass, I was almost surprised at how effortless it appeared for him to rattle off a complete lie. But then again, depending upon how long things had been going on, he had to come up with stories to cover up. And no one at the table thought there was anything else to it. Though, given the little bit that I’d said to my parents about Patrick, I wondered if they were skeptical of the hand scrapes being from landscaping. And I supposed they really could be from landscaping, but because he mentioned getting into an argument or fight with his stepbrother, I was willing to bet that was what the marks were from.
“My dad taught me how to do stuff in the yard,” Patrick said.
“Those are good skills to have,” Dad agreed. “What does your father do for a living?”
“He’s a doctor. A psychiatrist.” That fucking son of a bitch helps people? What a hypocrite! “And my stepmom doesn’t work,” he added.
After dinner we went into the great room and continued watching the preshow. Chase rolled around with his Hulk Hogan pillow and settled down after Mom put some snacks out for us. She and Dad retreated upstairs to watch a movie while we watched the TCF event.
As the event started, I made sure to pay close attention to everything. Things that I never really gave much thought to before. I watched the fighters backstage and who they were surrounded by. All of these things would be coming to me, as long as I’d make the right decisions and train hard.
“Damn! Check out that girl,” Morgan said. In between rounds, a TCF girl would climb up on the stairs that led to the cage and hold up a sign to announce the upcoming round. She wore what looked like black panties or swimsuit bottoms and a gray tank top that said TCF across the chest. “You’re going to be surrounded by these girls,” Morgan announced.
“Gross,” Chase said as he dipped an apple slice in his cup of caramel.
The main fight had just started between the defending light heavyweight champ Brendan Rowe and the opponent Peter Khavkin. I paid attention to every move they made and heard everything their teams yelled to them during the match. I studied everything and took it all in. Most of all, I paid close attention to the look on Brendan Rowe’s face as he was announced the victor and light heavyweight champion.
Elation.
Happiness.
Relief.
It looked like a high that could only truly be understood by someone in that position.
Rowe hoisted the title belt high above his head as the crowd cheered, the lights flashed, and his team held him up. In that moment he was on top of the world.
Enjoy your time in the limelight, Brendan Rowe. I’m coming for you soon.
