Flip Trick

by Amo Jones

  “I do, and I’m only going to the other side of town.”

  I put my bags into the little trunk and turn to face Leila. “I’m sure he will be nice. I like to think my mom is smart.”

  “Your mom is smart. Like, street smart,” Leila agrees, tapping on the passenger window so I wind it down, just as I get into the driver’s seat. “I’m sure his kids will be great. Hopefully they’re not like, in diapers or anything.”

  That’s what I fear. I’m hoping they’re at least in their teens, but the way my mom spoke about them makes me think that they may be younger. Great.

  I give Leila another quick goodbye kiss through the window and drive out of the parking lot. After a quick stop to buy a new but cheap phone, I’m singing along to Halsey’s “Bad at Love” when a phone call comes through my Bluetooth on the radio. They transferred my number quick.

  I push the green phone button on my steering wheel.

  “Hey, Mom, I’m on my way.”

  “Hey, honey, I forgot to tell you, I’ve moved into his house, so you’ll be staying here for the weekend.”

  “What?” I snap, shocked at how quickly things have moved. “Mom, I don’t even know this person. And what about The Cherub? You can’t just abandon that…” The Cherub is the name of her bookstore, she named it after me. I used to hate the nickname growing up, but now I don’t really mind it. I’m finding it strange that she would just pack her life up and move after knowing this man for— “How long have you known him?”

  She sighs. “Amethyst, you’re too old to be asking these sorts of questions. I’ll explain when you get here. I’ll send the address to you now.”

  I exhale. Maybe I am overacting a bit. “Ok, Mom. I’ll see you soon.”

  “See you soon, sweetie.”

  A couple minutes after she hangs up, her text comes through, and I illegally punch it into my GPS, using one hand still on the steering wheel. Armok? “Who the heck is this dude.” Armok is, from what I’ve heard, a town filled with filthy rich people. Now I’m worried.

  The drive there is fast, and it’s not long before I’m pulling up to an old concrete high fence. The gate is closed, not surprisingly. I get out of my car, pushing my sunglasses to the top of my head and pushing my long hair back with them. I shield the sun with the palm of my hand, and then my phone starts ringing from my car. I launch for it, tapping answer.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m opening the gates, sweetie!”

  “Thanks…” I struggle to keep the dry tone out of my reply, ending the call. I get back into my car and wait. A few beats later, the heavy metal gates separate and open to a long gravel driveway.

  I put my car into first and drive forward, passing the trees that are littered with burnt orange leaves hanging dramatically from the branches. There are post lights lined between each tree, with iron cladding clawing around the bulbs. This driveway itself screams wealth. When my eyes land on the mansion that overlooks the driveway I came down, I gasp in shock. Old Victorian stone is molded—no— perfected through-out the entire structure. Windows are scattered delicately around the front with black frames. I pull up the brake, coming to a stop in front of the marble steps that lead to two heavy rustic wood doors.

  “Okay, Mom, what the actual effing shit is going on here.” I reach for the handle to my door, swinging it open.

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” a deep voice declares, coming closer to my car. I haven’t looked up yet, too lost in my own thoughts about how revealing everything has been since driving a few miles from down the road. He must’ve taken the handle on the other side of my car because the door stretches open farther.

  “Thanks,” I murmur, a little confused. I eye the slacks, and then slowly travel up the fine, obviously very well-built body. “Am I in the right place?” I ask while still making my travels up to his face.

  When my eyes land on a thick dark neck, I gulp. Nice neck. My focus finally came crashing to his and my mouth went dry. Covered in beautiful dark skin, smooth like chocolate, was probably one of the most handsome men I have ever laid eyes on. He’s young, I’m guessing around late twenties, and then he smiles, and my legs shake. Straight white teeth lit up the dim area, and two deep dimples sunk into those mocha cheeks. My God. He was… mouth-watering. I need to snap myself out of whatever stupidity I had just walked my butt into.

  He smiles softly, or politely, probably more politely because he had just witnessed my embarrassing reaction to his appearance. He has to be at least half African American or something exotic. Closing the door and gesturing to the steps, I notice his accent. British. Someone is taking me for a ride, and it’s not him—unfortunately.

  “Amethyst? I don’t believe you are mistaken. Your mother and Mr. Stone are waiting for you.” It’s official. I have a crush on the guard.

  “Ah, than—thank you?” I step out of his way, almost falling on my butt. His eyes are like a dark brown orbits, only the intensity makes me feel like I’m swimming in a pit of hot lava. Okay, my obsession with him has reached new heights. This was beginning to be a little more than embarrassing.

  His lip kicks up a little as if he’s amused by the fact that I found him interesting, then he points to the trunk of my car. “I’ll get your belongings and put them in the guest room in the west wing.”

  “West wing?” I quirk an eyebrow, unable to hide the shock on my face. “This place has a west wing?”

  He seems to think over my question. “It’s a manor, ma’am.”

  “Oh, right.” I have no idea what he’s yapping on about. A manor? “Well, thank you, I guess.”

  Then I head to the front door. With each step, my throat is closing more and more. I can’t believe my mom managed to find someone so rich. Maybe he’s really old. But the kid thing is throwing me off. Unless his ex-wife is a twenty-something-year old gold digger who got knocked up on purpose, then yeah, that could actually be it.

  I look around the area again. The gardens splashed with color and vibrancy that obviously showed they were taken care of by an expert. Not my mom, obviously, because the only thing my mom does with her hands is flip pages from a book Which is never a bad thing. I was reading classic romance novels at a very young age, what with Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte on our shelves, just high enough for a child to reach. But Dad read too, only his book covers had dragons on them and half-naked people. Actually, come to think of it, I probably saw my first tittie because of the cover of one of Dad’s weird, dragon erotic novels.

  “Cherub!” The front door swings open and my mom steps through with arms wide. She’s wearing a—somehow—stylish straw type hat on her head, a yellow sundress and white-rimmed glasses that are way too large for her small heart-shaped face. She also has a cocktail in one hand. This is a different side of my mom that I haven’t yet witnessed. She has always been single, sporting knitwear and jeans, and she always had a coffee mug grasped between the palms of her hands while balancing a book on her thighs. Never a damn cocktail and a fancy hat.

  Ah… realization seeps in. I get it. She’s finally lost her mind. Knew it was coming but I was hoping it would be later rather than sooner. You know, I sort of wanted a sane nana for my kids. If I wanted kids… did I want kids?

  Damn, my ADD was acting up today.

  “Hi, Mom!” I embrace her, wrapping my arms around her tiny neck. Mom is smaller than me. She’s petite, where I’m a little more on the curvy side. By a little more I mean my ass would jiggle if you flicked it.

  “Come in, honey! Come and meet Elliot!”

  Oh. He has a name. I follow her into the large entryway. It’s decked out in mahogany wood and accented in pristine white paint. There’s also a glistening chandelier in the middle that drapes delicately above your head. I remove my leather jacket, hanging it on one of the hooks, all while keeping my eyes on the sparkling crystals hanging above.

  “Mom, you really outdid yourself here.”

  “Oh!” She brushes away my accusatory tone with a simple fl
ip of her hand. I continue to follow her toward the open plan living room which steps out to the pool in the backyard.

  She plops down on a sunbed and pats the one beside her. “You got here early, tell me, how’s college? Tell me everything!” She sips on her drink, just as a maid comes toward us balancing a silver plate on her hand, carrying a couple of fancy looking cocktails.

  “You still prefer pina coladas?” She takes both of them and hands me the milky one.

  “Yep!” I take it from her and smile politely at the maid. The backyard has a massive lap pool in the middle and a fountain toward the end. Trees lined the yard and a pool house hidden behind a few shrub bushes. Mom swats my arm, gaining my attention.

  “That’s where Elliot’s sons stay when they’re here because it’s close to Scar, their home play-thing.”

  Right. The kids.

  “What? On their own? A bit neglectful, isn’t it?” I chuckle, sucking down the cool, creamy cocktail.

  She inches her sunglasses down her nose. “Amethyst, whatever do you mean?” Her gaze shoot over my shoulder, and then a bright smile beams up her features. “Ah! Here they are!” She stands, stumbling a little, but hastily collects herself again.

  I don’t bother looking quickly, I just stand slowly while taking the cocktail from her. I place it on the little table that separated our sunbeds. “Yeah, I’m cutting you off.”

  I hear a chuckle from behind me and turn, rolling my eyes. Obviously, I’m going to have to try to brave the little shit devils since I will have to play nice with them, possibly forever, if I’m reading the vibes of love my mom is shooting out correctly.

  “Hi—” Everything stops.

  My breathing catches in my throat and I squeeze the glass in my hand. My heartbeat drops to a deep, slow and alarming bass and my palms itch with sweat. My knees start to quiver. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  There, standing in front of me, were three—not boys—men. Not toddlers, grown fucking adults.

  One, was Aquaman.

  One, was Wolf.

  And the other? Was fucking Maddox Stone.

  AMETHYST

  I swallow, my eyes flying between the three of them. I look at Mom. “I’m sorry, wait, what?” My mumbled confusion probably doesn’t go unnoticed by the trio, so I do what I always do when I’m nervous. I shut my mouth.

  Maddox’s eyes are like green marbled magnets. I’m drawn to his observation of me, and then before I can help it, my eyes collide with his. His hand comes out to mine, a cocky smirk spreading over his lips. “I’m Maddox. You’re the daughter?”

  I realize what he’s doing. If my mom found out about us, it would drive her into a spiral of anxiety— on crack. Anxiety on crack is my mom’s specialty.

  “Hi.” I put my hand out to him. “I’m Amethyst. And you are?” There’s a double dig to this. I try to make it sound as if the night before wasn’t worth remembering, but obviously, it fails because his laughter breaks through my insult.

  Aquaman steps forward, dramatically shoulder barging Maddox. “I’m Talon, but this hot chick I met recently, calls me Aquaman, and well, I think it’s catchy, don’t ya think?” he asks me with a mischievous glint lighting up his murky green eyes. I narrow mine again. His grin deepens.

  I’m a lost cause because I have no control over the smirk that comes to my mouth. “I think it fits rather well.”

  He winks at me, and then Wolf stepped forward, his hand out and his face seemingly frozen and emotionless. “Wolf.”

  I shake his hand even though it feels more like I’m shaking a stiff, cold corpse. I don’t remember much of the night before, but I do remember how stand-offish Wolf was.

  Running my fingertips through my hair, I swipe it all out of my face and then look back to my mom. “Well—”

  “—Oh! I told the boys how you’re such a tomboy, with skating all your life and all that…”

  “—Mom—”

  “—No, no, so they had said that there’s a raspy thing down the road. Y’all should take her. Ame, honey, did you bring your skateboard?”

  She didn’t actually need to ask me that, because she knows damn well that I take my deck everywhere. “Yeah, Mom, it’s in my car, but I have to be back later tonight. I have a really important paper that I need to be studying for…”

  “What are you studying?” Wolf asks, taking a seat on one of the sunbeds. I feel awkward standing, fiddling with my fingers, and I know that Maddox is watching me with careful eyes, so I sit back down. Despite the fact that last night made my thighs clench, my bones scream, and my soul roar with anarchy, it also made me painfully somewhat aware of how lethal Maddox Stone is.

  I bring my glasses back down to my face to shade my eyes. “Ah, bachelor of fine arts, actually.”

  “Actress?” he questions, an eyebrow quirked in interest. I’m not sure if that interest is genuine, but I go with it.

  “Mmm, not by choice, really. I actually want to be more behind the scenes, so I’m majoring in dramatic literature and screenwriting, but I guess we all have to start somewhere, so yeah, actress.”

  My mom swipes her mouth with the cushion of her thumb before blurting out, “Amethyst has been doing small acting gigs since she was a child. We knew when she was just a little girl that she was going to do something in that line of work. We tried to get her into modeling as a child, but she threw a tantrum that could be heard in China.”

  “Mom…” I’m about to stop her from her information overload, but she carries on, only changing the subject and going back to her previous subject.

  “You are staying for at least one night, you can head back tomorrow.”

  I think about fighting her, and then I think about it again, and I watch as the sun begins to set in the sky, igniting orange hues over her tanned skin. How the wrinkles on the edges of her smile look a little deeper since the last time I saw her. Despite my earlier critique, I appreciate the carelessness in her body language. She is happy, at ease. Not that my mom was ever unhappy before, she was just…mom. But I notice it, and the least I can do is spend one night with her, you know since it will be a very, very long time until I come back here. If ever. Actually, I’m already thinking of excuses to get out of all the up and coming family events that I’m sure she has planned.

  I sigh and then squeeze my mom’s ankle. “Okay, Mom, fine, I’ll stay. One night, but you owe me a damn donut.”

  She giggles, her head tipping back and her neck tightening from the movement. “Okay, honey, I’ll call Elliot and get him to pick some up on his way home from his meeting.” The boys are quiet, so I glance back at them. Talon and Maddox are both watching my mom and me, but Wolf has disappeared somewhere. I’m not surprised, from all that I have seen of him (which is only a few hours in all, but first impressions and all that), he seems the more emotionally detached brother. He seems reticent, distant and cold. Either that or he’s just downright sketchy. Either way, a side of me relates to his personality. I have always been an outcast, never fit in anywhere. I’m still trying to figure out why Leila even tolerates me, because we are worlds apart. I like me this way and I’ll never change. I’ve never been interested in fitting in. I like diversity and anything that’s contrastingly authentic. You can’t put a personality inside a box and say; ‘That’s what she’s like.’ We’re human, we’re supposed to shed raw emotion and be violently different. More people need to embrace their differences. You don’t want to look back at photos when you’re eighty years old and think Damn, none of those opinions really mattered. I should have just been me.

  “I’ll go in search of another cocktail!” Mom stands up, but my hand goes to hers.

  I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I have barely touched this one.”

  Mom’s face falls into a soft smile. “Ame, you’re in college now, you’re going to have to get used to drinking. I want you to have fun.”

  I gulp while trying my hardest not to look at Aquaman and Maddox. “Thanks for the talk, Mom, but I’m good.”

>   “Alright, suit yourself.” She continues toward the house, mumbling a few words.

  Maddox takes a seat opposite, just as Aquaman plonks beside me. “How’s your head?” Maddox asks, his eyes gleaming complacently.

  I pinch my lips between my teeth and fight the stupid girly blush that wants to run rampant over my face. “It was really bad this morning. I feel a little better now.”

  Maddox’ grin only deepens, and then I feel a nudge against my arm. “You know, we ain’t that bad,” Aquaman says playfully.

  I let out a slow, heavy exhalation of breath. “Really?”

  Aquaman shoots a sneaky smirk to Maddox and then sobers when he comes back to me. “Of course not…”

  Sarcasm.

  What’s that saying? It’s the lowest form of wit or something.

  Aquaman stands and stretches his thick arms above his head. “I’m gonna hit the Scar before Dad gets home. You wanna come?”

  Maddox doesn’t answer, and when I finally allow myself to look at him, his gaze is fixed on me. Burning holes into me with imaginary lasers. Our eyes stay connected, and before I can force myself to break the contact, he answers, “Nah, I’m good. I’ll double up tomorrow.” His eyes stay on mine, absorbing me.

  “Bro, you have a fight this weekend. You need to train.” Aquaman’s eyes follow his line of sight once he notices Maddox isn’t going to look back at him.

  Maddox’s lip tips up, and then he finally stands. He glares at his brother. “I’m undefeated, pretty sure I got this.”

  Aquaman shakes his head but goes on his way, disappearing behind the pool house. Maddox takes Talon’s seat beside me and reaches into his pocket. He hands me my iPhone. I exhale a huge sigh of relief. There are so many photos and memories on this phone.