Sitting at the table, Fiona serves everyone a heaping pile of noodles, melty cheese, and meat before sitting at the opposite side of the table.
Grabbing my fork, I dive in like a convict having their last meal. I barely come up to breathe as the gooey cheese scorches my taste buds.
This definitely beats Ramen noodles back in the dorm room.
“You eat as much as you want baby, you need a little meat on those bones,” Fiona chuckles to herself as she pushes her food around on her plate.
“Sorry.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin realizing how savage I must look. She throws a hand at me as if I’m being ridiculous.
“So, what are your plans now that you’re back in town?” Fiona questions with her mouth full. I nibble at my inner cheek as I think about how to reply.
“I’m looking for a good gym, with a professional trainer,” I shrug.
“Oh yeah, you still fighting and whatnot?”
Chloe and I freeze, Chloe’s silently telling me to choose my next words carefully. Fiona has a big mouth, if I tell her I got into a fight she’d probably be proud and tell the whole neighborhood… and then my dad would find out.
“I haven’t been practicing if that’s what you mean.” I avoid answering her directly. It’s not a lie per-se. I haven’t been to a mixed martial arts class, or even near a gym, in about seven years. It wasn’t until I got in a fight with Jacki that I realized I have been living a shell of a life for far too long. I felt alive, a rush if you will, when my suppressed anger and hurt surfaced. Some females were born to be good business women, or eye candy. I, on the other hand, I was made to kick ass. Glancing up, Fiona and Chloe both are staring at me, as if they want me to explain further. “I almost enrolled in a kick-boxing class once, but it was a group kind of thing where the instructor did a move and everyone would try to imitate it, it wasn’t one on one.”
I didn’t enroll because it made me think of what I used to have, and that hurt more than anything. Staying away from it all made being numb easier.
“Ugh, reminds me of that nail class Ma and I signed up for, remember that Ma?” Chloe slurs with food in her mouth.
“Oh yeah, it said on the Internet they had a technician that did celebrity nails, and could teach us how to do this or that. Girl, we sat in a big room, and looked at a slide show for an hour. What a waste of time and money.” Fiona shakes her head frustrated. “So what kind of gym you looking for, sugar?”
“I’m not sure. Probably something small where a coach can train me one on one. Someone who knows what they’re doing when it comes to MMA would be nice, but that might be harder to find out here.” Fiona and Chloe both still, their forks mid-air as their brows raise.
“Professional?” Fiona’s voice cracks.
Swallowing, I nod.
“Like in a ring, with people ten times bigger than you?” Chloe’s voice rises. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“They have weight divisions, I won’t be up against someone ten times bigger than me.” I can’t help but laugh lightly.
Fiona’s intense stare breaks when her mouth curves into a small smile.
“MMA, that’s different from your daddy’s boxing, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. It’s like wrestling and boxing, and kick boxing all in one. Hence the Mixed Martial Arts.”
Chloe’s head whips in my direction, her face conveying I’m insane.
Maybe I am crazy. Is it hot in here? I feel unbearably hot.
Setting my fork down, I take a sip of cold milk. My throat feeling suddenly dry.
“Your dad will flip his lid!” Chloe spits. Fiona kicks her under the table, missing and hitting the leg, causing the salt and pepper to clank together. “What? I’m just saying…” She side glances her mother.
“It’ll take a lot of work, but I’m sure if anyone can do it, it’s you Tate.” Fiona gives a reassuring nod.
“You’re nuts,” Chloe objects, her eyes wide as she looks down at her plate. That’s why I love her though, no filter. “I have to say, I thought you moved to LA and grew out of all that fighting stuff. Tell me you at least let some surfer screw you on his surf board?” Chloe asks seriously.
I laugh at Chloe’s utter ridiculousness. Even though I haven’t practiced fighting, I never stopped following it. Fighting is who I am.
“You know, I think I know someone that might be able to help you in the whole fighting mumbo jumbo.” Fiona gets up from the table, leans over the kitchen table, and plucks a pen and paper from her purse next to the sink.
“Really? Who?” Chloe and I ask at the same time.
Fiona turns, and hands me the paper.
It has a random address on it.