then I’ve got some other debt here and there. Taxes too. Things’re tight, actually. You know, at first I was thinking of just lighting the whole shit on fire and pulling an insurance scam.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“No, not me either, really. An insurance scam would’ve been dumb—the insurance companies are like hawks. So I don’t know what to do. Quit? If I can’t pay the rent, I could end up in bankruptcy and shit like that. Do you know what that means? If I can’t pay the taxes, I might end up in personal bankruptcy too. And if I can’t pay my debt, I might really end up in trouble. It’s not good, baby. Really, it isn’t.”
She looked at him. Obviously she knew what bankruptcy was. At least five of the companies Dad owned’d folded. And to not repay debt to the wrong people—she wasn’t stupid, of course she understood.
Viktor could look so sad. While she knew what he was getting at with this conversation, she regretted not having made her stance clear about ten minutes ago. She didn’t want to mix worlds—she wanted to keep Viktor out of Dad’s sphere. And above all: the other way around.
She got up. Made sure to end the conversation before it went any further.
“I have to deal with my college applications now.”
It was true.
Three hours with the online application to the law program. Really, you didn’t need high school transcripts or standardized tests—anyone who succeeded in filling out these forms correctly was obviously intelligent enough.
She thought about Louise again: she was already in her second year at the university. It seemed pretty chill: Louise updated her Facebook status, like, twenty times every morning. They were mostly about all her constant coffee breaks.
It was almost time for the heavyweight match. Dad said that it was the one everyone had come to see. And the thing was that a Serb was going up in the ring: Lazar Tomic from Belgrade, a real UFC fighter. He was facing off against a guy from Sweden: Reza Yunis.
When Serbia was competing, it was serious stuff.
The emcee introduced the fighters.
When the Swede’s name was called out, the arena really exploded. At least ten thousand male voices roared. Support. Strength. Supremacy.
The gong sounded, the first round began. Dad delivered a stream of commentary about what was happening into Natalie’s ear. Yunis was apparently pushing hard and rocking a high tempo against Tomic. Only a few seconds into the fight, he was flat on the ring floor after the Swede swept him down. Yunis jumped on top of him. Fed punches at the Serb’s face. Tomic tried to protect himself, block as much as he could. The seconds kept on ticking. He succeeded in wrapping his legs around the Swede. They rolled around. Made it back up on their feet. Danced around each other and kicked at hip height.
The round ended.
Extreme Affliction Heroes: MMA in its finest form. Everything was allowed except for head-butting, biting, poking in the eyes, or hitting the back of the head or groin.
Dad asked if she wanted something to drink. He sent Goran during the break. He returned with mineral water for her right before the second round was about to begin.
Dad kept talking. “Tomic has competed a lot in the U.S. He is good at feinting and uneven shifts in tempo. He likes to take it slow for a while before he comes back strong. We’ll see.”
Natalie was getting bored. They were fighting like crazy up there. Kicks to the shins, jabs to the body, different grips when they were down on the mat. Knees in ribs, jabs to the head, punch after punch to the face. The people around her were howling. The fighters up in the ring panted, wrestled, and circled around and around, like dudes in a bar who are about to launch a pick-up ambush on a girl.
She played with her iPhone. Played Bubble Ball. Checked the hours at the gym. Navigated Facebook—Louise’s status: “Home again after a sweet afternoon with the girls at Foam café.”
Well, compared to
“I don’t believe that.”
“No, not me either, really. An insurance scam would’ve been dumb—the insurance companies are like hawks. So I don’t know what to do. Quit? If I can’t pay the rent, I could end up in bankruptcy and shit like that. Do you know what that means? If I can’t pay the taxes, I might end up in personal bankruptcy too. And if I can’t pay my debt, I might really end up in trouble. It’s not good, baby. Really, it isn’t.”
She looked at him. Obviously she knew what bankruptcy was. At least five of the companies Dad owned’d folded. And to not repay debt to the wrong people—she wasn’t stupid, of course she understood.
Viktor could look so sad. While she knew what he was getting at with this conversation, she regretted not having made her stance clear about ten minutes ago. She didn’t want to mix worlds—she wanted to keep Viktor out of Dad’s sphere. And above all: the other way around.
She got up. Made sure to end the conversation before it went any further.
“I have to deal with my college applications now.”
It was true.
Three hours with the online application to the law program. Really, you didn’t need high school transcripts or standardized tests—anyone who succeeded in filling out these forms correctly was obviously intelligent enough.
She thought about Louise again: she was already in her second year at the university. It seemed pretty chill: Louise updated her Facebook status, like, twenty times every morning. They were mostly about all her constant coffee breaks.
It was almost time for the heavyweight match. Dad said that it was the one everyone had come to see. And the thing was that a Serb was going up in the ring: Lazar Tomic from Belgrade, a real UFC fighter. He was facing off against a guy from Sweden: Reza Yunis.
When Serbia was competing, it was serious stuff.
The emcee introduced the fighters.
When the Swede’s name was called out, the arena really exploded. At least ten thousand male voices roared. Support. Strength. Supremacy.
The gong sounded, the first round began. Dad delivered a stream of commentary about what was happening into Natalie’s ear. Yunis was apparently pushing hard and rocking a high tempo against Tomic. Only a few seconds into the fight, he was flat on the ring floor after the Swede swept him down. Yunis jumped on top of him. Fed punches at the Serb’s face. Tomic tried to protect himself, block as much as he could. The seconds kept on ticking. He succeeded in wrapping his legs around the Swede. They rolled around. Made it back up on their feet. Danced around each other and kicked at hip height.
The round ended.
Extreme Affliction Heroes: MMA in its finest form. Everything was allowed except for head-butting, biting, poking in the eyes, or hitting the back of the head or groin.
Dad asked if she wanted something to drink. He sent Goran during the break. He returned with mineral water for her right before the second round was about to begin.
Dad kept talking. “Tomic has competed a lot in the U.S. He is good at feinting and uneven shifts in tempo. He likes to take it slow for a while before he comes back strong. We’ll see.”
Natalie was getting bored. They were fighting like crazy up there. Kicks to the shins, jabs to the body, different grips when they were down on the mat. Knees in ribs, jabs to the head, punch after punch to the face. The people around her were howling. The fighters up in the ring panted, wrestled, and circled around and around, like dudes in a bar who are about to launch a pick-up ambush on a girl.
She played with her iPhone. Played Bubble Ball. Checked the hours at the gym. Navigated Facebook—Louise’s status: “Home again after a sweet afternoon with the girls at Foam café.”
Well, compared to
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