Chapter 32- The Fighter

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Story Recap: Lukas, an athletic California 17 yr-old with blonde hair, blue eyes, and tight body, loves Ari, a wealthy, muscled, 25 yr-old Persian who dominates his boy. Lukas is off to a good start at his new high school. He has a friend in Dylan, a tutor in Nasim, and an enemy in Riley.

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"I am his father. It says this on his registration card! It lists his birth father's name, and my name. What is the problem? Why is my Lukas injured?" Mr. Khorasani fumed as he sat next to me in the counselor's office.

I was wearing my track uniform. The thin material of the tank top and small running shorts weren't designed to be worn in a cold office like the school counselor's. I shivered and felt the bandaged scrape on my arm.

"I understand that, but this is an unusual situation and I need to hear back from his actual father before I can discuss this and release him. I don't see a mother on the card. Is there a mom in the picture?" The counselor looked at us like something criminal must be going on at home.

"That is not your concern! This office is too cold for him and he is injured! I'd like to take him home so he can clean himself and put on proper clothes. He is not in trouble is he? What happened to him?" Mr. K. asked.

He had his arm across the back of my chair. He rubbed my shoulder to try and warm me.

"Not exactly. We can not condone fighting of any kind. Even if he was defending himself, he should have gone to the coach instead of taking a swing like that," the counselor explained.

"Lukas took a swing at someone? Who? Why? My boy does not fight! Who attacked him?" Mr. K looked at me with concern.

"I'll discuss it when we can get ahold of his father," the counselor insisted. His tone towards Mr. Khorasani was condescending and annoyed.

Dad wasn't answering his phone. He'd been missing all week and no one seemed the least bit concerned except for the school counselor.

Mr. Khorasani sighed and took out his phone. He stared with a look I hadn't seen before. He was always so in control of his emotions, but his eyes fumed with anger. He'd assumed the role of my father for the past few months and this was an unwelcome challenge to his authority.

He hit a few buttons then spoke in Farsi to someone. He stopped talking and set his phone down on the counselor's desk then put it on speaker phone.

"Hey, uh hi! Hello? This is Steven Smith. Is everything ok there?" my dad's voice said and then he cleared his throat. He sounded out of breath and a little hoarse like he was sick.

"This is Steven Smith? Father of Lukas Smith? This is one of his school counselors, Mr. Jordan." The counselor's tone changed when he spoke with my father. It wasn't as harsh.

This wasn't the same counselor who had met with me in Mr. Khorasani's office. That one was out for the afternoon so Mr. Jordan was handling me.

"Yes. Mr. Khorasani is there with you, right? He handles school things. Sorry I've been hard to track down. I'm on a big job, but Mr. K has my full authority if there's a problem," dad said like he wasn't sure why anyone had called him.

"Well yes, I just wanted to get an accurate picture of his home life before we decide where to go with this," the counselor said.

"Ok... well he lives with the Khorasanis and they are helping out. We just moved here and I'm getting work and things settled. We thought it would be easier for him this way. Is he in trouble? Lukas is never in trouble. Just raise your voice a little and he'll settle down. Did he do something?" dad asked. He was confused.

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