“Wait!” Evans’s scream echoes down the hallway as I make an exit. “What about my kiss on the cheek?”
“Have B give you one instead!” I holler, poking fun at Brent’s new nickname.
***
As I’m heading over to Caffeinated to grab myself a panini sandwich for lunch, Cara shoots me a text.
Paint ball this Saturday! Daniel, Alex & Simon are in!
Bring Kayden along?
I type back. I’ll ask him and let you know.
I’m not sure how I feel about taking a day off from training to play paint ball. But then again, I’m certain that Kayden will be grateful for the break, given how hard Julian pushed him today. I remember it being the same with Jax when I was still learning how to fight. Long, hard hours of sparring and honing technique. My body was consistently marked with bruises from being knocked around so much, which sparked a lot of arguments with my dad.
Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if my mom had stayed in Boston. Would I have turned to fighting?
Would I have turned to Jax? Both things felt like comfort after the pain of my parents’ divorce and my mom’s subsequent abandonment.
I’m certain, though, that life without fighting would indeed feel empty, like a piece of my soul would be missing if I didn’t have it. There’s just something intrinsically human about the sport. You get hurt, you pick yourself up and you try even harder again. There’s no room for giving up.
When I finish today’s midterm paper, I almost weep out of relief. I have three more papers scattered throughout the week, but I’ve done enough prep work for those courses to enjoy a little breather today. It feels weird not having a place to go. I’m usually rushing off to a training session with a client or with Kayden. But I don’t have any sessions today, and trainings with Kayden I can no longer do. And those are really all I have.
Luckily, I’m not alone in my misery. Because less than an hour later, Kayden strolls into Caffeinated, looking as beaten up as a foot soldier coming home from war. He doesn’t even bother to wipe the rivulets of sweat that pour down his face and neck, which soak the front of his shirt. When he spots me sitting by the window, he drops into the seat opposite me, defeat slacking his impressive shoulders.
Damn, Julian wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to break him.
Kayden and I stare at each other silently for a couple of beats.
I look him up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not even in the slightest,” he mutters, reaching forward to steal my coffee cup and taking a huge swig of it. He hasn’t had any sugar during the four weeks I’ve been training him, and I want to tell him off for doing so right now, but I decide to let it slide. After the day he’s had, it’s the least I can do.
“How was your paper today?” He asks.
“It was all right. I’m expecting at least a B on it,” I inform him with a bored stare. Then, remembering Cara’s standing invitation, I propel the question toward him. “What are you doing this Saturday?”
“It’s my day off.”
“Perfect. We’re going paint balling, then.”
He slides the cup—now mostly empty—back to me, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. “You serious?”
I nod in confirmation. “Cara invited us.”
He gives me a perplexed look. “Who’s Cara?
Right. I don’t think it’s ever come up in any conversations that I’m friends with the neighbors he turned down multiple offers of civility and friendship from.
“Our neighbor.” I take a sip of the coffee, pausing. “And my friend.”
Kayden doesn’t even take a moment to think about it.
“No.”
“Come on,” I whine. “I know you don’t like making new friends but they’re a fun bunch. I think you’d really like them.”
Deep down, I’m not actually convinced of that. But I’m certainly not going to go to a paint balling event where I’d be a fifth wheel. That’s every single person’s nightmare.