Externalizing [mxm]

Chapter 4

Marc ignored the sting of the bacon grease as he threw in the eggs. Soaking them in grease probably wasn’t the healthiest, but sure was the tastiest. Besides, he was more likely to suffer a heart attack than she was.

They ate at the table before Marc drove her to school and dropped her off at the before care, since school didn’t start for another hour.

He went to work from there but still had a hard time focusing. His mind was still scattered from waking up like he had. He was still tweaked from it.

He was at least able to cut out of work a little early and went to sit in the parking lot of Ariel’s school for a while. Eventually he gave up and went in, getting his visitors pass and trekking back towards Brendan’s classroom.

It was all a whirlwind again with a project deadline in the past. Brendan was actually helping someone though, something to do with a drawing. He waited by Brendan’s desk and sat in the chair behind it. It was a mess of course but he was sure Brendan knew where everything was anyways.

There didn’t seem to be any actual school work or grades involved on it, just miscellaneous art supplies and some notes. Brendan finished with the student and smiled at Marc as he came over. “Hey, how was the rest of your weekend?”

Marc shrugged stiffly. “Fine.” He didn’t really want to talk about it.

Brendan nodded and shifted his eyes around. “Well usually you’re a little chattier,” he finally commented after a while.

“Didn’t sleep well,” Marc answered truthfully.

“You know, counseling isn’t always a bad idea,” Brendan pointed out, somewhat off topic until Marc understood what he was getting at.

“I just had a bad dream,” Marc defended himself. He didn’t need anything like that.

“Okay,” Brendan went with it. “Either way.”

Marc didn’t get that part but he wasn’t going to push for more. He would eventually get used to everything, even if it wasn’t right then. Counseling involved emotions, which was apparently something he wasn’t good at communicating.

“Or art could be therapeutic,” Brendan added.

Marc couldn’t help but snort. “A certain blond little girl got all those skills, not me.”

“Okay, true,” Brendan chuckled. “But you should find something you like, you know? Something that relaxes you. Reading, playing some sort of game or sport maybe.”

“You think I need to relax?” Marc asked. Maybe he was giving away more than he thought somehow. His dad had mentioned something similar that morning after all.

“I don’t know. You just seem pretty uptight today,” Brendan finally said.