Curran is saying something, too, but his words are jumbled like he’s speaking another language.
I think I should raise my hand when my name is called, but I don’t. It’s only when the ref calls us over that the fog I’m in begins to lift. This is bad. Real bad. I know it then. Yet it’s when my opponent and I touch gloves that I realize my living hell has only just begun.
I stagger back and simply stand there, failing to notice Lopez charge. All I see is Norman, the guy all the little boys in the neighborhood knew we should stay away from, but no one knew exactly why.
You’re Little Finnie O’Brien, aren’t you? his tenor voice asks.
I’m not aware my hands are down until Lopez nails me with a right hook that sends me flying against the cage. I bounce off, shaking as I fall onto my side. Lopez lands on top of me, nailing me repeatedly in the face.
It’s only from the hours and years of training that I respond. I roll away from the cage, going into defense mode before the ref can pull him off me and declare a knock-out.
My hand snatches Lopez’s wrist, grasping it tight before he locks me into a choke. Except as much as my body knows what to do, my head isn’t cooperating. It panics, just like I did that day.
Instead of positioning myself in full guard, I try to escape. He catches me with an elbow. The blow unlocking the next memory.
You like Legos, right? Killian says the ones from Star Wars are your favorite.
You know my brother? I asked him.
I know all of them. Especially Killian. He laughed again. Didn’t they tell you we’re friends? Jeeze, you look just like them.
I scramble to my feet and out of Lopez’s way. But instead of nailing him with a kick or a strike of my own, I back away like I’m fleeing for my life.
You like toys don’t you?
I have plenty of toys to play with.
Aw. Don’t hurt my feelings, little dude.
Come on, just come in for a little while . . .
The door slamming shut and locking behind me made me jump. I knew I was in trouble, just like I am now.
Lopez catches me with a kick that sends the air shooting through my lungs in a pained rush. More blows, more kicks, pain pouring out of me, just like it did that day.
Lopez is on me again. He’s not letting go.
And neither did Norman.
Something in me snaps. It’s not rage. It’s not misery. It’s not fear. It’s vengeance.
And I take it all out on Lopez.
CHAPTER 29
Sol
I hurry into my dark house, flicking on the light in the hall, my hands shaking with nervousness. Tonight is Finn’s fight. And, against my better judgment, I’m going to watch. I’m only hoping that the late hour doesn’t mean I already missed it.
The keys make a little clinking sound as I drop them on the tiny end table. I’m glad my father is at work. If he was here, the match would be that much harder to watch.
It’s not that Papi hates Finn, actually that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s more like I’d be proving to him how much I miss Finn.
Papi . . . he’s been asking a lot about Finn lately. But it’s what he told me yesterday morning that really touched my heart. “You lost your smile when you lost that boy,” he said.
I can’t deny that’s true. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t keep my distance. God, I’m so messed up. In accepting that my mother will never recover, I tore open wounds bred from guilt, sadness, and everything I managed to suppress all those years I lived in denial.
“You’re mourning the loss of your mother,” Mason explained to me during this afternoon’s therapy session (after I admitted there are days I can’t seem to stop crying). “You know she’s gone, and that she’s not coming back . . .”
No, she’s not.
I shrug out of my coat and hang it in our tiny closet, trying not to think about the tears that hard truth brought, or how difficult it was to function in the hours that followed. Acceptance is supposed to be a path toward healing, but that’s not where it feels I’m headed. Everything hurts so much more: my mother’s rapid decline, watching my father say goodbye to the woman he loves, and every ounce of pain I’ve felt being without Finn.
The epiphany Mason helped me realize triggered so much more than just my mother’s loss. It triggered the sense of loss I felt when I walked away from Finn, the man I’m still crazy in love with.
I find the remote beside an old photo of my mother, set to the right of our T.V.. I slump onto our old couch and flick on the tiny flat screen, trying to find Fox Sports One, and not focus too much on the picture of my mother. This is Finn’s moment, so for the time being, I want to keep my mind on him.