by Amo Jones
I’m standing under the shower when I replay all of what has happened over the past few days. Maybe I can get some answers under the pelting hot water. One thing I know for sure is that my small circle has somehow expanded to a medium size square. I’m not sure how I like it. I’m not good with change.
I turn the shower off and wrap the towel around my body, wiping the condensation off the mirror. I have always thought that I’m plain looking, no real cute attributes to this face. I like it that way. There are no cute dimples in my cheeks. People have always complimented me on my eyes, but I don’t see what’s great about them. They’re blue. I have blonde hair—until I dyed it pink. I like my pink hair. It’s like a big fuck you to the universe for only giving us three options of hair color. My cheeks are baby soft and my eyes are almond shaped. I’m not sexy looking, I’m just. Me. Amethyst. Rebel.
I squirt moisturizer onto the palm of my hand and rub it into my face. Quickly throwing on some grey sweat shorts and a grey crop top, I towel dry my hair and toss it into the basket, pulling open the door into our room. The fresh air slashes my face, setting goosebumps erupting over my skin.
“Hey!” Leila sits up in her bed. “Are you ok?”
“Fine,” I grumble, pulling over my cover.
“Was it Maddox and Tasha?”
“Ta—ta—what now?” I know who she is implying, but I don’t really want to get into it with her right now.
“Ame.” Leila sighs.
“No, it’s not. I just needed to get out for a bit.” My head hits the pillow, blanket slowly falling over my bare legs.
“Ok.” Leila yawns, turning off her bedside light. “Ame?”
Here she goes. “What?”
“You shouldn’t sleep with your hair damp.”
“Mom, you need to put all your older books to one side and then so on. This is getting ridiculous.”
“Honey, your OCD has been working on overtime lately. Are you sure you’re ok?” she asks, handing me a Styrofoam cup of coffee. I place the old but not original edition of The Great Gatsby onto the small table she had in front of the worn old couch. I blow onto my coffee. “My OCD is just fine.”
She gives me the look she always gives me when she knows I’m lying. “And how is school?”
“School is great, Mom.” I take a small sip, burning my upper lip. “Any other questions?”
She shakes her head slowly. “I guess not.”
I stay for the rest of the day and help her out. Mom’s bookstore is urban and safe. I miss this place. It’s almost as comforting as a halfpipe. The burgundy drapes that hang over the front window and the leather chairs that have aged wrinkles indented into the arms. It’s all home to me.
I check the time on my watch. “It’s almost six. We’ve been at this all day.” I lean on the counter as Mom takes the money out of the till and bags it.
“We’ve had a good day. I’ve missed this,” she says, rubbing my arm. “You know You’re welcome at the house any time. It’s your home now too.”
I push off the counter and reach underneath the till to get my handbag. “Thanks, Mom, but I don’t think so.”
“Honey, I know that you aren’t exactly happy with—”
I cut her off. “No, that’s not it, Mom. I mean, you and Elliot have history, and I get that. It’s just… I don’t know. I’ll need a minute.”
Her eyes soften around the edges. “Okay, sweetie. I can give you a minute.”
“Do you want to grab a bite before you head home?” I ask, taking my keys out of my handbag.
She beams. “Yes. I’m starved.”
AMETHYST
“I think I don’t get it,” I say, twisting my hair up into a knot on the top of my head.
“Get what?” Leila asks from the bathroom. She’s getting ready to go out, and I’m staying in to finish this paper. Story of my life—usually.
I take the pen out of my mouth. “How you and Wolf are so easy with your arrangement. And did you see Talon and his girl? An open relationship? That’s crazy. Y’all are all crazy. I swear, if I ever get into a relationship, I’ll be carrying knives.”
“What’s crazy is that you’re wearing sweatpants material as a crop top. That is… that should never be allowed.”
“You can leave now!” I flutter my fingers toward the door. “You look great, Lei. Have fun.” She does. She wears a little white dress and over-the-knee boots. Not something I’d wear—ever, but she always looks fantastic.
As soon as the door closes, I move my attention back to my paper. Writing has always come easy for me. It is the only thing—other than skating—that I am truly good at. I’m about to begin writing The Fundamentals on Action Verbs when there’s a knock on the door.
Rolling my eyes, I head toward it. “Don’t tell me, you forgo—” I pause when I see it’s not Leila standing there, it’s Maddox. “Hi?”
His eyes drop down my body, taking me in. “Nice clothes.”
“Thanks.” I cross my arms. “What’s up?”
“You going to let me in?” he asks, his lip kicking up into a grin. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other since that day in the cafeteria.
“Why?” I retort suspiciously.
“Do I need a reason? Damn. If I knew that you were going to need a reason, I would have made up some bullshit on the way here.”
I go to close the door on him. “Goodnight, Maddox.”
“Wait!” His hand interferes with my epic closure. “Because you owe me.”
I widen the door, my eyebrows shooting to the high heavens. “Oh? Really? How so?”
“March twenty-seventh. You and me sat in your car, eating purple Hubba Bubba, and you said to me that you owe me.”
“I don’t recall.”
I do. I remember that day exactly as it was.
His grin deepens. “You do so. I gave you your first ever Hubba Bubba and you said that you owe me for that.”
“Please stop saying Hubba Bubba.”
“I will if you let me in.”
“Fine!” I open the door and wave my hand inside. “I would say excuse the mess, but I don’t really care what you think.”
He chuckles, walking farther into our room. I close the door and discreetly check him out while his back is turned to me. Jeans that had been washed a few too many times, white Adidas original sneakers, black shirt and a black jacket. Nice. I do dig his style, I’ll give him that, but again, he’s not my type. I dig his style because I would wear that.
“You’re studying on a Friday night?” he asks, tilting his head to read the papers on my bed.
“Well, I did say that I don’t really have a life.”
He sinks down onto the edge of my bed and kicks his shoes off.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I wave my finger down to his shoes.
“What?” He grins, so wide it almost (almost) makes me smile.
“Don’t you have things to do?” I walk to my bed. He leans back on his elbow and shakes his head. “No?”
“I actually have to study,” I answer, pulling my hair out of its loose knot to tie it back up again.
“Then study.”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to annoy?”
“Nope. Study, and then, I’ve been given strict orders that you’re to come out tonight.”
“Ohhhh, I see, so it all makes sense now.” I shake my head. Fucking Leila. She couldn’t drag me out herself, so she got Maddox to do her dirty work. “She got you to do her dirty work? Man, that’s rough.” I laugh, picking up my pen and trying to read over my last paragraph. The essence of writing, I believe, comes fr—my cheeks heat. I look up from my paper, catching him staring. “Maddox! You’re distracting.”
His eyes go from mine to my lips and then back again. “Not sorry.”
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
He grins and then pulls out his phone. There’s no way I’m going to be able to get any writing done, so I toss my pen down onto my bed and get up. “Fine
. You both win. I’ll get ready.”
I can hear him chuckling from behind me.
Twenty minutes later, I’m ready, and this was the best that they were going to get. Black shorts, white tank, and my Doc Martens on my feet. I straightened my hair and put on a bit of makeup to hide the new bags that have appeared, but other than that, I am ready.
“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t do pretty, slutty dresses. So sorry you have to be seen with me like this.” I gesture down at my clothes.
Maddox stands and slowly prowls toward me. “I never said anything and honestly, Amethyst, you’re fucking perfect.” My stomach flips and my cheeks heat. Friendzone. Friendzone. F-R-I-E-N-D-Z-O-N-E.
He licks his bottom lip. “Come on, let’s go.”
We stop outside of a bar in Morningside Heights, but all the way over here I’ve been thinking about how it must’ve been for him to not only lose his mom but to be there when she died. It’s something that I feel may always sit uneasily with me. I turn in my seat to face him. “Maddox, I know I sound like a broken record, but this whole thing? It just, I don’t know. I still feel like I need to apologize for it.”
Maddox’ eyes search mine. “For what?”
“Your mom…” I inwardly wince at my choice of words. I wasn’t joking when I said that I sucked at small talk and anything that could show any emotion. I feel awkward when faced with the issues, and then I get paranoid that they think I’m not being sincere because I try hard to look like I’m truly sorry, and I am, always. I can’t imagine losing someone so close to you, but I struggle with expressing human emotions.
“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to be sorry.” He gets out of his seat and shuts the door. I slide out and follow him as he makes his way to the bar entrance. Bright blue neon lights flash against the aged brick. It’s more of a relaxed bar than a nightclub, so there’s no massive line or over-the-top bouncers, but there is one security guard standing near the door. Bald head, tight black top that has his muscles bulging out.
He tips his head at Maddox when he sees him. “Sup, man. Watch the fight this weekend?”
Maddox chuckles. “Yeah. Good fight, had my money on Grahams, though.” Maddox pauses, his hand reaching for mine. I’m straightening my bra a little (because it feels as though my tit is about to flop out) when my other hand connects with his reflexively. Shit. Heat shoots up from the palms of my hand and up to my chest. Should I let go? Or would that be too obvious? Double shit. We walk into the bar, my hand still in his. He squeezes tightly while leading us to the back booth where Wolf, Talon, Liza, and Leila are sitting at a table, drinks already empty.
“Oh here are the lovers!” Leila announces, twinkling with joy.
“Fuck you,” I mouth, sliding in behind Maddox.
As soon as his hand is gone, I miss it like a fool.
Friendzone.
Maddox rests his arm behind me, just as Leila gestures to the bar. “Let’s get drinks.”
I slide out again and head toward the bar. She hooks her arm in mine. “What’s going on with you and Maddox? Spill.”
“What?” I feign innocence. “Nothing.”
“Yes… you guys have a thing. I don’t know, it’s weird.” She shakes her head, pulling out a bar stool. “It’s as though you’ve both known each other for years.”
I snicker quietly. “You could say that.”
“See!” She spins around to glare at me. “Spill!”
I shake my head. “Not right now.” I let her order the drinks and pay for them. I don’t have the energy to tell her that I wasn’t in the mood to get drunk, so I figure one wouldn’t hurt.
One turns into one too many real quick when you go out with Leila.
“Lei,” I say, my hands resting on my forehead. “Honestly, I need to study. I have a pap—”
“Amethyst! Chill, girl. We’re having a good night. Just relax.” Talon pulls me under his arm. We didn’t stay long at the bar before we all piled into a taxi and made our way to one of the many nightclubs in the city. Seriously, I really didn’t want to go out tonight. Especially because the brothers were throwing a party tomorrow night. I will definitely not be attending. At all.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on between you and Maddox?” Leila asks again, inching forward while twirling her straw around in her mouth. I regret our friendship by this point.
I shake my head, leaning in towards her ear. “We knew each other when we were little. It’s hard to explain, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
She gapes at me, then tugs me back into her. “Are you serious?”
I look back at her and nod. “Yes.”
She pulls me back, her hands clenching around my arms. “You guys are supposed to be together, Ame. I see it, we all see how you both are. Why are you fighting it?”
I cross my arms in front of myself, confused. “I don’t know, Lei!” I throw my hands up for added effect. God, I hate when I’m drunk. Alcohol sucks. I’m never drinking again. Leaning back in my chair, Maddox slides in beside me, his arm going around my back.
I glare at him. “I hate drinking. This is your fault.”
Sweat glistens off his top lip, his smooth tanned skin gleaming from the strobe lights. The Weeknd “Six Feet Under” booms through the speakers. His focus falls to my mouth and then come back to my eyes. “You’re right, it is my fault. What you gonna do about it?”
I swallow.
He throws his head back and laughs, then his lips brush against the crook of my neck as he growls, “Mmm, that’s what I thought.” I feel like I’m going to physically combust, as his tongue comes out and slips across my flesh. The room shrinks, my legs shake, and my heart feels like it’s going to pound out of my chest. I close my eyes and count to ten in a pathetic attempt to pull my shit together. God, I’m so disappointed in myself when it comes to Maddox. Why are you fighting it? I need to get Leila’s voice out of my head, there’s no room for her up there.
I shove him away playfully. “Stop it.” He doesn’t budge, his face staying against my throat. I can physically feel my breathing thicken. He kisses me below my ear.
Jesus take the wheel.
“Mmm?” His soft growl vibrates against my neck, and I shit you not, goes straight between my legs. Does not pass go.
His hand comes to my thigh. “Answer this one question honestly…”
I clear my throat, sipping on my drink. “Okay.”
He leans back slightly just enough so he can study my features, but close enough that his lips almost touch mine. “You want this as much as I do?”
I search his face impassively and contemplate lying just to burst his ego, but my mouth didn’t get the memo. “Yes.”
“Why you fighting me, then?”
“I’m not,” I pick up my glass again.
“You are.”
“You haven’t exactly thrown the first punch,” I reply smoothly.
“First punch?” he taunts. “Amethyst, I fucked you until you couldn’t fucking see straight, and you wanna say that I haven’t exactly thrown the first punch? I’m undefeated, baby. Try me…”
My head snaps to him, only to find his cocky smirk on his smug face. “You’re such an asshole.”
He shrugs. “Never claimed I wasn’t.”
AMETHYST
On Monday, I’m stumbling into class when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out discreetly, looking down at the screen while sliding into my seat.
Maddox: You didn’t come on Saturday, why?
I typed a quick text back. I didn’t go because I was hungover, yes, but after Friday night, I needed to recover. I’m not cut out for their lifestyle, and I have way too much to lose if I don’t put my head down. After Maddox and I had our little push and pull in the city, I bitched out and snuck away from them. It wasn’t until I was safely secured in the taxi and on my way back to campus that I sent him and Leila a text saying I had bailed and that I’d be busy all weekend with studying. I turned my phone off after that and I
hadn’t turned it back on until this morning. Not intentionally, purely because I’d been so lost in my assignments. There were a couple messages from Leila and only one from Maddox saying “Sweet.” I wasn’t sure whether he was mad at me or disappointed with me. Either way, I didn’t really like it.
Me: Hungover. Sorry.
I push my phone back into my backpack, but not before it vibrates again in my palm. “Fuck,” I cuss, quickly looking at the screen.
Leila: We need to talk…
Oh no. Here goes my old pal anxiety. I haven’t seen Leila since Friday night, either, I’m guessing that after the club she went home with Wolf. Her staying away for one night isn’t surprising, but two nights sort of is. I don’t know what it could be that she would want to talk to me about, but whatever it is would need to wait.
Class went slower than I hoped it would, but that could have something to do with the fact that I am constantly glaring at my phone. Throwing my bag over my shoulder as soon as the bell rang, I slide it unlocked and open the text from Maddox.
