Ch. 8: Brutal

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-Bennett-

In all fairness, I hadn't meant to spill the contents of my water bottle all over the passing, unsuspecting seventy-year-old man. I'd been distracted for a fraction of a second, caught up in my own delusions about whether Mason was waiting for me, when I carelessly bumped into the poor man.

I'd tried waiting for Mason in the lobby before my class started.

I'd stood there for as long as possible, eagerly gripping the pass and money I owed him with both hands. I knew it would probably only be a small exchange, a few minutes at most, but that hadn't stopped me from arriving at the gym earlier than usual and restlessly pacing across the carpeted floor.

I'd put the pass and money into my pocket several times just to take it back out, internally debating whether it was better to have it in my hand or in my pocket when he arrived. Would holding onto it seem like I was too eager? Or would it make it seem like I wanted to get this over with? Would that make him walk away from me any faster? Or would he be glad I wasn't trying to take up any more of his time than necessary?

I couldn't stop overthinking despite how mundane our encounter would likely be. What was I expecting, exactly? I knew better than to let my thoughts get carried away, but I couldn't reel them in all of a sudden.

I only turned to head into class at the last possible moment. And even then, I'd briefly considered missing it altogether just to keep waiting, despite knowing fully well it'd be entirely irresponsible to do so.

It wasn't until I received a curious glance from one of my kid's parents as they hurried in through the door, almost late themselves, that I was harshly shaken to awareness.

"Maybe he meant later," I muttered under my breath, hesitantly sticking the pass and money back into my pocket before heading inside.

I tried to ignore the voice in the back of my head telling me that I'd probably weirded him out the night prior, what with my inability to keep all my baggage to myself. That I should have been stronger and stepped out of his car when he first pulled up to my house, not just sat there victimizing myself... basically forcing him to comfort me. I couldn't imagine that it'd been any fun to waste his night away trying to make me feel better.

That had to be it, right?

"Is everything okay, Mr. Oden?" one of the children in my class suddenly asked, blinking up at me; I must've zoned off.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Kyle!" I replied, forcing a bright smile. "Are you ready for class?"

Kyle nodded his head in agreement before heading to his assigned position, seemingly thrilled about today's class; I'd offered the option to play dodgeball with the soft foam balls we stored in the back... but that was only if they behaved.

Which, they luckily always did.

As a result, the class was buzzing with excitement.

"Knock it off," I murmured to myself. "You're just overreacting like always. Something probably just came up."

I found it nearly impossible to calm down, though. Which, somehow all led back to an elderly man berating me in public as he stumbled back and forth, acting like I'd socked him in the face rather than having merely spilled some water over a shirt that was, quite frankly, already kind of moist with sweat. I'd been in such a rush to leave after my classes were finally over, to see if Mason was somehow still around, that I'd stumbled right into the fuming senior citizen.

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