Flip Trick

by Amo Jones

  Mom stares up at me in confusion. “I’ve known Elliot since high school, he was your father’s best friend.”

  “This just got weird,” I mutter, swiping away the bead of sweat that’s breaking out on my forehead.

  Maddox slowly stands, his eyes cutting to me, but instead of the light, sexy stare he usually gives me, it’s now seeping in disdain. I flinch.

  “She was who you were having an affair with?” Maddox growls at his dad, but his eyes were on my mom.

  Elliot pauses, and then puts his knife and fork down onto the table. “As she said, son, a long time…”

  I narrow my eyes on Maddox as two stories click together inside my head, like a problematic old rusted puzzle. “Oh my God, you were the boy from Krispy Kreme!”

  Mom sucks in a mouthful of air from beside me, but I ignore her.

  “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Aquaman announces, his eyes frantically going around the table.

  Stacey agrees with a simple, “Mmhhmm.”

  No one says anything, and the room goes ghostly silent. Wolf slowly stands from his chair, the sound of the legs scraping against the hardwood floor piercing through the tension. “Dad has been having an affair with Jessica since long before Mom died.” Then he simply turns and barges out the door.

  “That’s fucking why Wolf didn’t like Jessica!” Maddox almost yells at his father. “Because he knew about your fucking affair.”

  “Watch your tone, son, you’re in my house. You will not raise your voice at me or at Jessica.”

  Maddox turns to face me and then flicks his focus to my mom. “Fuck Jessica.” his focus comes to me. “Fuck Amethyst.” His eyes go to his father. I ignore the verbal punch to my gut because he’s obviously angry. “And fuck you and your house.” He goes to stalk out of the room, but stops at the threshold and turns his head slightly over his shoulder. A dark sadistic smirk shades his mouth. “Oh, and Jessica? I fucked your daughter last night, too.” His eyes slightly come to mine, his lip curled. “Maybe you could teach her a thing or two about sucking dick since your abilities are good enough to break a home.”

  My head bows in shame, but my cheeks flare in rage. That was shitty, and now I’m mad. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now.” I stand abruptly and run toward the doors that lead to the entrance room, all while swiping the tears from my eyes. I’m not watching where I’m going because I collide into a hard chest.

  “Wow.” Hands grip around my arms, steadying me.

  “I’m sorry.” I rub my nose and sniff, then I look up to find the driver or whoever he was from earlier staring down at me.

  “No need to apologize, Amethyst. Do you want me to show you to your room?”

  “I don’t.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to be here. If you could just help me put my stuff back into my car, that’d be good.” He doesn’t answer, so I brave a look back up at him. His eyebrows are furrowed in. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be driving while upset.”

  “I—”

  “—I’ll go with her,” I hear a voice say from behind me. I turn slightly, even though I recognize the voice. Aquaman.

  I smile softly. “He’ll take me.”

  The guard searches my face, and then they go over my shoulder for a beat, before he reluctantly nods. “Ok. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your bags.”

  Once he has disappeared up the stairs, I turn around to face Talon completely. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do,” Aquaman assures, stepping forward while clutching a duffle bag. He continues through the front doors and disappears into the dark night. I follow him, going straight to my little car and beeping her unlocked. Aquaman, or Talon, which is what I should get used to calling him, slides into the passenger seat, tossing his bag over to the back. I get into the driver’s seat and push the key into the ignition.

  “Before you start asking me about Maddox and Wolf and their anger, and why I’m not angry like them, it’s because I recognize that it’s not your fault. My brothers have always been hot-headed. I, on the other hand,” he grins, giving me a wink. “Have always been the voice of reason. It’s why I have more friends than both of them put together and is why I feel it is my duty to take you home.”

  I glance out the window ahead, starting the car. “Well, actually, I wasn’t going to ask about it. So maybe you can just fill me in on the parts that you want to fill me in on.”

  It takes ten minutes into our drive for Talon to say, “Our mom died in a car accident.”

  “Oh,” I answer absently, then realize how insensitive that could’ve sounded so I quickly add, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks,” he grunts. Bet he’s heard that a lot. “It was a long time ago, not that you ever get over losing a parent, but I have had to say that line a few times.”

  “Um, when did it happen?”

  “April first. It always felt like some sick joke that we lost her on April fools. If only that were true.”

  After dropping Talon off to their house, the house I didn’t think I’d ever see again, I drive back to campus. My phone has been going crazy in my back pocket the whole way, but I ignore it, knowing full well that it will be Mom. She broke up a home? A marriage. Now that woman is dead? History is a bitch, and somehow, I’ve managed to fall into that pool of drama I was so adamant that I didn’t want to so much as dip my toe into. The information is swimming around in my head, threatening to drown me. The only person I want to talk with right now is Dad. I have a feeling he could shed some clarity on this foggy situation.

  I barge into my room, throwing my bag to the other side before belly flopping down onto my mattress. I need to gather enough energy to get up and call Dad, but fatigue sinks into my bones and I fall into a deep sleep.

  The loud crunching of granola wakes me the next morning. My eyes peel open to find Leila, shoveling her face with spoonfuls. “You know, you slept a whole ten hours. I’m impressed.”

  I chuckle, dropping my arms down onto my blanket. I squint against the bright morning sun that’s blasting through the cracked blinds. “Well, I’d rather be sleeping. God, my simple family life just got all messed up.”

  Her chewing slows, her head tilting. “Do you want to talk about it or drink about it?”

  I shuffle under my blanket more and glare at her. “No, Leila, drinking about it is how this whole thing pretty much started. I don’t really want to talk about it right now. Maybe later.”

  She heads off to her first class and I go back to sleep. There’s no way I can face the world without more naptime.

  MADDOX

  “Bro, you need to pull all that shit in. I’m serious,” Talon says, blocking my hit.

  I bounce around on my toes, stretching my neck. “Why, Talon? It’s not like you were in the fucking car!” I reared my elbow back, jabbing him straight in the jaw.

  One, two, three. The combinations are a little savage. He has no chance. He throws his hands up to block my hits, but trips backward, falling onto his ass. I rotate my shoulders and gesture for him to get back up.

  He shakes his head. “Hell naw, man!” He yanks the gloves off his hands and tosses them across the octagon.

  We’re at Dad’s, training in the shed that we transformed into a Mixed Martial Arts gym when we were in high school. It’s rough around the edges, but it’s ours. When I was just shy of thirteen, my dad kicked up my training schedule and threw me in with a professional gym, one that my coach runs. I trained there six days a week for four years solid before I started fighting underground. At first, Coach didn’t know. But when he did eventually find out, he kicked me out, which is how “Scar” was built. Personally, I would have rather call it Mufasa, but whatevs. There are boxing bags hanging from the wired structure and a large octagon made up of rope and a whole lot of padded flooring. There are speed bags, three treadmills, a few benches and a shit load of weights. It didn’t look flashy by any means with the dirt floor, but the equipment did its jo
b. I’m back with Coach now. When I stopped the illegal bullshit—just before I got out of high school—Coach took me back. This is where we all train when we’re home, and I still prefer this place to my flashy ass gym in the city.

  “Get up, you’re getting weak,” I teased, grinning at Talon.

  He flips me off. “Fuck you Mr. I’m Undefeated.”

  I slip through the rope and grab my water bottle off the bench. I take a sip, then swipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I can’t get over it. I’m fucking irked at her.”

  “Why!” Talon yells, getting to his feet. He saunters closer and rests his arms on the rope, his head hanging between his shoulders. “I get it, bro. You were there with Mom when it happened. You were her pride and joy—”

  “—We all fucking were, Talon. Goddamnit,” I breathe in and out, in an attempt to calm my rage.

  You know those moms who were just perfect. The house is always clean, there is always fresh cookies or cake baking in the oven, and dinner is always served with a smile and peck on the cheek. That was my mom. I can’t comprehend why my father would ever cheat on that, and honestly, it makes me mad as fucking hell that it was happening under my nose, and was still happening without me even realizing it. I get humans and all their mistakes, but Jessica obviously wasn’t a mistake. It felt more like he thought my mom—was.

  “Talk to me, brother,” Talon murmurs, searching my face. “Don’t go into that dark hole in your mind. Regardless, Amethyst isn’t the issue here—our father is. We can’t punish her for her mom’s decisions either. She’s as innocent in this as we all are—hell! She has it even worse.”

  I tilt my head. “How do you figure?”

  “How do I figure what?” he asks, climbing out of the ring.

  “That she’s worse off.” I toss the bottle onto the ground and take a seat on the bench. I’m going to need to hit some reps since this fool is lacking stamina.

  “She’s alone, bro. We’ve all got each other. Amethyst is an only child.”

  I hate when this fucker is right.

  AMETHYST

  Flipping my Tony Hawk cap backward, I let my long pink braid fall over my shoulder. Standing on my deck with one foot, I push off the concrete with my other and then balance on the board. I had Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” playing through my earphones, and it felt good to be out here, away. Free. I smile gently as the sun licks its rays over my skin and the air zooms through my trucks, pushing me to intoxicating speeds. I’m in my zone. I head straight for the halfpipe, going up and then kickflipping back down again. The breeze flew through the loose strands that had fallen out from my braid and goosebumps prickle over the flesh on my thighs. I’m wearing ripped, slightly baggy, cut-offs, and a red bikini top underneath my white tank. I can skate in anything, but the looser the better.

  God, I missed this. The adrenaline that I get from skating is close to the feeling I get during sex. It’s addicting and euphoric, so nothing can wipe the smile off my face as I continue to skate around the park. This park, in particular, isn’t new to me. Kingsville is where I always come to when I need an out. It has a basketball court beside it, with hoops so old the netted baskets have torn off. A few metal bins are scattered messily in places, and there’s graffiti artistically splashed on almost every inch of the half-pipes and ramps. I’ve always been completely aware of how bad of an area this was. Every second person who walks past is pushing dollars and baggies into their back pockets, but they leave me alone. I think they just got used to me being here.

  Eminem and Ed Sheeran’s song “River” starts playing as I skip off my deck, tapping on the bottom until it flips up and lands in the palm of my hand. Tearing my earphones out, I stroll to where my things are, picking up my water bottle.

  “Your mom said you’d be here.”

  I freeze, recognizing the voice, then turn to face him.

  “Maddox, hey.”

  I’m not sure what version of Maddox I’m about to get, so I figure a simple ‘hey’ would make an average opening. He slowly starts walking toward me, his eyes moving down my body and then coming back up again. He takes a seat on the ramp, leaning back on one elbow. I can’t help it. I’m obviously an idiot, but I can’t help checking out all that is Maddox Stone. Seriously, had he never gotten a pimple as a teen? His skin is ridiculous. I have skin envy. My mouth starts to open, when I internally register what I was probably about to do—ask him about his skin—so I bite down on my tongue and quickly change the subject.

  “Is there a reason why you’re here?” I place my deck down beside him and take a seat on top. “No offense, but this doesn’t really seem like your scene.”

  His tongue creeps out to wet his bottom lip, and I catch the shine of his tongue ring. Lord, help. I quickly look away, staring straight ahead.

  “This yours?” He picks up my gold link chain. I always take it off when I skate, so I don’t lose it. I bought it for myself just because I liked it. Treat yourself is my favorite saying.

  “Yup.” I smile at him. He unclasps it and puts it around his neck.

  “Hey!” I shove him playfully in his arm.

  “I’ll look after it for a while.”

  I think about protesting this but don’t.

  He clears his throat, his face falling serious. “I was eight when she died.”

  My mouth opens, but then realize I have nothing to say. I don’t want to fill the empty pause with pointless words, so I let him continue.

  “My mom and dad, they weren’t on good terms when she passed. It was that night—” He stops and glares up at me. His eyebrows come together as he searches my face, going from my lips to my eyes. “It doesn’t seem fair, right? That I got out of the car without a scratch, but she didn’t even get to walk out.”

  He’s still penetrating me with his stare, so I figure he wants me to answer. Only I’m not very good at pep talks or condolences, so I hope I don’t fuck this up epically. Usually people who are comfortable enough to open up to me about something so deep, already know I suck at these things and forgive me before I open my mouth.

  I clear my throat, keeping my eyes locked on his. “I guess it would seem that way to you, but I bet she wouldn’t have had it any other way, Maddox.”

  He pauses for a beat like he is trying to figure me out. “I guess,” he answers, finally breaking our eye contact to gaze forward.

  The sun is beginning to set over the old abandoned buildings in the distance, and a car alarm has started going off from somewhere close, but all that matters right in this moment, is Maddox.

  “There was just so much left unsaid and unfinished. I’ve always felt like she was robbed that night, because” —he halts, clears his throat— “because she had just finished finding out about my dad’s affair with your mom. She was so angry, I had never seen her that angry. I wasn’t even scared that she was crying so hard, or that the speed on the speedometer was pushing over a hundred at eight p.m. at night. I was terrified because for the first time in my eight years, I was watching my mom fall to pieces and I couldn’t fix it.”

  My heart clenches in my chest thinking back to the Maddox I remember. The eight-year-old who let me sit in his fancy Lincoln, and even sat in our beat-up Toyota—just to listen to music with me. Tears threaten to surface at the corners of my eyes, but I swallow them quickly, afraid that I didn’t earn those tears, or that he wouldn’t accept them.

  “Anyway,” he continues, changing elbows. “It was a second later that she took a corner too fast and wrapped us around a tree.”

  “Maddox…” I whisper without realizing how much emotion my tone gave away.

  “Amethyst, I’m not telling you this for sympathy,” he swallows. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m telling you because I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? For what?” What could he possibly be sorry for.

  “For how I acted last night. I snapped at you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” He looks back at me.

  I give him a soft smile. “
It’s okay. Friends?”

  He searches my face, his eyes softening. They turn lazy as they drop to my mouth before coming back up again. “Yeah, babe, friends sounds good.”

  I get to my feet. “Ever skated before?”

  He freezes. “No, and I’m good with that.”

  “Oh, come on…” I nudge him with my hip. Leaning up on my tippy toes, my lips skim his ear. “Live a little…”

  “I’d watch your proximity if I were you, friend, and I live just fine.”

  I drop back to the soles of my feet, struggling against the tingly feeling that starts to twirl deep in my belly.

  “Fine, how about this…” He takes the deck from me. “If I go down this ramp without falling on my ass, you’ll come to my next fight in three weeks…”

  “I don’t like fighting…”

  “…I don’t like skating.”

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  He narrows his back. “What will it be, Rosé?”

  “Fine,” I agree. “Because I can’t wait to see you fall on your ass.” The dip is deep, there is no way he wouldn’t fall as a first-timer.

  His lip slowly curls up into a grin. It is so cocky that it has me second guessing him, so I quickly take another look down the ramp. Yeah, no, there was no-freaking-way—he flips the deck down onto the rim of the ramp, resting on it expertly.

  What?—

  He licks his lip, winks and says, “I’ll have the boys pick you up at seven, princess.” Then leans forward and I watch as he smoothly, not only makes it to the bottom, but drives up the halfpipe, flips back, and then drifts back down again.

  I look down to the pit of the ramp. “You cheated!” I yell, though I can’t help the cheesy smile on my cheeks. They burn with pride.

  He chuckles and flips me off. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, princess.”

  AMETHYST