Page 7 of Badd Ass
“Shit, Xavier, you make it sound like you were completely alone.”
He blinked at me for a long time. “I was.”
“Goddamn, kid. I had no idea.” I let out a breath. “And you were bullied at school?”
He nodded. “Badly, yes. They’d punch me in the hallways, fill my locker with dog shit, steal my books, and beat me up on the way home. It was rough. But…I graduated, and got the scholarship to Stanford. None of those assholes even went to college. They’re all still here working on fishing boats and fixing cars. It’s all they’ve ever done and all they will ever do.”
“Why do you think they bullied you?”
It was his turn to laugh at me. “Spoken like someone with no clue what it’s like to be bullied.” He took a hit of his coffee. “They bullied me because I was younger than all of my classmates by two years, at least. I was so much more intelligent than all of them that I might as well have been an alien.”
“And people fear and hate what they don’t understand.”
“Exactly.”
“Shit, kid, I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry none of us were here to protect you.”
“You couldn’t have even if you’d been here,” he said. “But I made it through. I survived, and that’s what matters. I’m stronger for it now.”
“Back to your original statement, though. You mentioned something about a chicken?”
He nodded. “Yeah, you.”
“You better explain.”
“You’re attracted to this girl at the very least, yes?”
“Yeah,” I said, hesitant.
“And she seems to share that base level attraction, yes?”
I nodded. “Right.”
“But having examined the subtext of what you’ve said versus what you’ve implied, combined with your conflicted body language, I would hazard a guess that you feel a lot more than just a base level physical attraction for this woman. You are unfamiliar with what it feels like to deal with an emotional connection, however, because—and I’m only guessing here, but I would lay a wager that I’m correct—you have learned to shut down your…emotional synapses, so to speak. Your capacity to deal with emotions has atrophied. You deal in the physical. You are strong, fast, powerful, athletic, vigorous, and virile. The physical world is easy for you, it’s where you dominate—not to suggest a lack of intelligence, mind you, but your primary prowess is as a warrior. And combat, from what I’ve read, forces one to inure him or herself to the rigors and traumas of war. Emotions are an unwelcome liability.” He paused to think. “But yet, in the real world—or rather, in the larger context of society outside the theater of war, I should say, emotions are the currency of culture.”
I blinked at him, trying to absorb and process what he’d said. “You said a mouthful, kid.”
“I just mean—”
“Like you said at the wedding, I’m not stupid, Xavier. I know what you meant; I just have to process it. My brain works all right, just not as fast as yours.”
“Very few do, in my experience.” He said this as a matter of fact, rather than as a boast.
“You’re saying I—that I’m in love with her?
Xavier made a face. “Inlove? You just met—all you did was have sex. You know literally nothing about this woman, Zane. There are emotions other than love and lust that you can feel toward females, you know.”
“Oh really? Like what?” I prompted, curious and amused.
“Friendship?” he suggested, characteristically oblivious to the subtle note of sarcasm in my voice. “Respect. Compassion. Curiosity. Need. Desire, but for the company of the person rather than the physical desire connoted for our purposes by the term lust. And really, the range of human of emotion is such a broad and complicated spectrum that I fear we do not have adequate terminology for all of the nuances and varieties that are possible.”
I shook my head. “Where the hell do you get this shit, Xavier?”
“I read constantly and very quickly, and I possess an innate curiosity that drives me to explore a broad range of subjects.” He pivoted to stare out the window at the pink of dawn on the horizon. “Math, science, electronics and robotics, physics, these are subjects I innately comprehend. I possess a highly logical mind, thus those subjects are easy for me. Humans are not…logical, nor predictable, except that in some ways wearelogical and predictable…humanity is a difficult, complex topic. Psychology, emotions…these are things I don’t grasp as easily as I would differential calculus or quantum physics.” He sighed deeply, and I sat in silence, listening, since Xavier rarely spoke of himself. “Like most geniuses, I struggle with expressing myself, and struggle even more with understanding people. I mean, I understand people on an anthropological level, but when it comes to actually dealing with people? I’m much less sure of myself in actual social situations.”
“This is probably the deepest conversation I’ve ever had at…” I consulted the clock on the stove, “five o’clock in the morning.”
“Really?” He smiled, gazing off into space. “I often sit with Hajji after our shift, and we talk of many deep and complex issues well into the smallest hours of the morning.”