“I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I’m just so used to things going bad that when they do, it’s just, you know. It’s normal.”
“What can I do?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t see any reason to get upset about my not being upset.”
“I’m not upset,” I tell him. “I’m just worried about you. If you bottle these things
up, they come out, you know.”
“Like in the form of physical confrontation which, one might say, is the most fundamental aspect of MMA?” he asks.
“No need to be a jerk about it,” I tell him. “Just shut up and realize I’m being very sweet right now and you’re very much not.”
“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry. I was going to get in the shower. Care to join me?”
“Sure,” I tell him. “Sounds like good, wholesome fun.”
He says, “I don’t know how wholesome that really—“
“Yeah, I was going to say ‘clean,’ but I didn’t want to go with a pun so I winged it,” I interrupt. “Yes, let’s go take a shower.”
“Okay,” he laughs and off we go.
I’m worried about him. He’s smiling and joking now, but even with something like fighting to get the aggression out, it’s still good to talk this stuff through with someone.
Right now, though, I’m not sure my approach would really help. After all, what do I know about this sort of thing? My parents have always had their own, individual team of lawyers so anything they might have done was dropped before it was picked up.
Now that I think about it, I wonder if my parents only stay together because they don’t want to go through the headache of dealing with the other’s legal team.
That’s slightly unnerving.
We get to the bathroom and we get undressed. As Mason turns on the shower and we get in, I decide to bring up something other than Mason’s family for once. “Your hair’s gotten way long,” I tell him.
“Yeah,” he says. “I haven’t cut it since before you and I met. I’m going to have it taken way down before my next fight.”
“We’ve been together for what, two months? Three months?” I ask.
He smirks and says, “I’m not stupid enough to answer questions like that without being able to tell you the minute and, seeing as I don’t have my watch with me…”
“When we first met and you were running around like you were fresh off of your latest mass murder, did you ever think you and I would end up a couple?” I ask.
“Immediately,” he says without hesitation.
“You sound pretty sure about that,” I snicker.
He nods. “Oh yeah,” he says. “As soon as you saw what brand of terrible I looked like and you didn’t take off screaming, I knew you were a keeper.”
“You know,” I tell him, wetting my hair, “Jana was standing out there, too.”
“Yeah, but me and her already dated,” he says. “It was your turn.”
I playfully smack his chest and he laughs. Maybe this is better. Instead of getting bogged down with the way people are “supposed” to process things, maybe we should just focus on actually processing it.
If that means he comes off a little callous when his brother gets arrested, so what? That’s probably going to come in handy down the road, too. Chris doesn’t seem like he’s the changing type, although I’m sure he’ll come out of jail “a new man.”
Every con has a simple concept behind it and that one’s just begging to be grabbed.
I’m a little surprised when Mason leans in and kisses me, a bit more when the kiss keeps going, but it feels good. I’ve been so busy accusing him of not being upset enough and he’s been so busy denying he’s upset at all that we haven’t really focused on the more important things in life.