by Amo Jones
I nod. “Yeah, that’s probably one of the reasons why I never thought to go pro in skating. I just always thought, I don’t know…” I don’t want to insult him.
“Say it,” he urges, doing his head tilt thing again. If he didn’t exude fear, I’d say that little move was cute.
I exhale. “That when you use your talent as your career, it’s either going to soar, or it’s going to kill it.”
He chuckles, watching me carefully. “And what do you think it does for me?”
Licking my lower lip, I shrug. “I haven’t watched you fight, so I can’t answer that.”
He grins wickedly. “We’ll have to change that real soon.”
I place my knife and fork onto my plate, just as the waiter comes back to clear our plates and replace our drinks. I truly only intended to have one, but it went down a little too smoothly.
Before I can ask him more questions, his foot collides with mine from under the table.
I freeze.
“So,” I change the subject, picking up my drink. “What are you majoring in?”
“Business. Boring, but it’s something my dad has me doing since you know, I’ll be taking over one day.”
I take a small sip of my drink. “What is it that he does? I don’t think I caught it at dinner with all the drama flying around.”
He rubs the side of his face, exasperated. “Tell me ‘bout it. We own Stone Properties.”
I gulp. I recognize the name, I just didn’t put two and two together. “As in you literally own most of New York?”
He gives me a tight smile. “Yeah.”
“Wow,” I say, just as dessert gets placed on the table. Tiramisu. My eyes go to his as I stab my fork into the spongy cake he ordered for me. “Thought tiramisu was bad for my height?” I take a bite off the fork.
“Guess I think you’re perfect.”
Friendzone.
I clear my throat. “Why you and not the other two?” My palms sweat and my thighs clench. Everything he does is attractive to me—what the fuck is up with that.
He shrugs. “Yeah, I mean, my brothers have their own shit that they’ve always been working toward. Talon with his football and Wolf with law, and besides all that, I was the only one who always took an interest in the family business when Pops was around.”
“Oh okay.” It makes sense, I just get the feeling that it’s not something he wants to do, rather something he feels he has to do.
“What are you doing this weekend?” he asks casually. My eyes follow the tattoos that trace down his arms.
I’m feeling thirsty, and it’s not for water. I’m pathetic.
“Probably studying, and then hit the park at some point. Why?” I eye him skeptically.
“Talon is throwing a party at the house this weekend.”
“Right.” I put my glass down.
He searches my eyes, making my tummy feel queasy from the mere connection of it. “You should come.”
Clearing my throat, I shuffle in my seat. “Well, I’ll have you know, contrary to how we reconnected, I’m actually not a party girl.”
He stands, tossing his napkin onto the table and grabbing out a few dollar bills. “I sort of got that feeling. Come on, I better get you home.”
On the way back to campus, he stops at a parking spot on the skirts of the city near Brooklyn Bridge. I tilt my head back and fix my attention on the roof. “This sort of feels dejavu-ish, right?” I can’t fight the smile on my face. “With us in a car.”
“Yup.” He pulls up the brake, reaching for his cap in the backseat and flipping it on backward.
I feel like everything about him is taunting me. From his eyes to his lips, to his skin. I’m not one of those girls who are crazy about guys with tattoos, but I admire the reasoning behind why people get them. But he, all that is him, is provoking me right now. How am I supposed to have him as a stepbrother if I am barely coping by having him as a friend. The attraction is undeniable, and it’s being a stubborn bitch. Like Eve, I am tempted by the apple…with Maddox being the apple. The question is, is the bite worth the venom? I shouldn’t ask myself that because, in my stupor, I will probably say it would be.
“What?” His voice is low and reaches something deep inside of me.
I lick my bottom lip and watch as his eyes catch the movement. Tilting my head, his eyes snap back to mine, and I don’t know if it is the semi-lack of lighting or the shadows the street lights are casting over his features, but his eyes darken.
“Nothing.” I quickly interrupt whatever he is about to say. “I just” —gazing out the front windshield, I watch as people stride across the walkway— “I guess I had fun tonight.”
“You did?” His voice is still low, but it’s almost distant. Still close enough to send goosebumps over my neck, nonetheless.
“I did. I still sort of feel guilty about my mom,” I add, fidgeting with my fingers. I feel responsible in some way.
He visibly stills, but then shrugs. “I guess shitty things happen all the time.”
“I guess,” I answer softly, trying to tread carefully around the subject, but still wanting him to know that I care.
“Can we do this friend thing?” I ask, resting my head on the window.
“I don’t know, guess we’ll see...” He winks at me then starts the car. “This is my place of zen. I run down here almost every Sunday, and any other time that I might need to clear my head.” He puts the car in reverse, pulling out.
“It’s nice. If I ran, this would be the place I’d want to do it. You know, away from the road and traffic.”
He takes us back to campus, only a lot slower than before. “Will you come this weekend to Talon’s party?” He looks between me and the road.
“Ahhh.” I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat. My muscles have long since relaxed from being around him, now it’s moving into scary territory because being around him is starting to feel easy. “So, you want me to come to your fight and to the party?”
He shrugs, pulling into the school. It is late now, and all that illuminates the courtyard are the big street lights. “Yeah, why not? It’s not like I’m making you come to my fight this weekend. You have a couple weeks to warm up to it.”
I pause, my hand resting on the handle. I smile softly. “Ok, I’ll come to both. Maybe. I mean, I’ll try to come to the party.”
He reaches forward, his eyes still on mine. His face comes so close that I can feel his breath falling over my lips. I freeze, internally battling with myself on what the fuck I’d do if he kissed me. He leans a bit closer, his lips only slightly brushing over mine. My eyes close, and just when I’m about to kiss him, he leans sideways and flips open the glove compartment, ruffling through papers. Motherfuck! My eyes pop back open as I collect myself quickly, even though my cheeks are on fire. Damnit. Was that a test of friendship? Did I imagine his lips slightly brushing mine? Oh God, I need help.
Pulling out a lanyard, he hands it to me along with a couple of rectangle pieces of paper. “Two tickets, and that,” he points to the lanyard. “Is for you. It gives you back entrance to my room. During the fight, you’ll both be sitting with Talon and Wolf.”
I clear my throat. “You want me to come and see you before?”
His face softens, which turn my insides into molten lava. “Yeah, Rosé, yeah I do.”
I have approximately three weeks to pull myself together whenever he’s around—or I’m screwed.
Later that night after my shower, I’m lying in bed with the cover pulled right up to my mouth, smiling from ear to ear.
“Good night?” Leila asks from her bed. I can’t see her because the room is pitch black, but I can hear her grin.
“Amazing, Lei.”
“Just…” she sighs. “Be careful.”
AMETHYST
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, double fucking shit.” I run through the empty corridors, coffee in one hand, and my books in my other. Yes, okay, so I’m late because I got coffee, but in my defense, if
I don’t have it, I wouldn’t be able to learn anything, because I’d be too busy killing everyone in plain sight. That’s right. I am a profound java addict, and although I have recently cut down my intake to four shots per cup, I still need it like I need air. I shove through the doors to my English class and the room silences.
“Hello, Amethyst, how lovely for you to grace us with your presence.”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, Mr. R. I promise, it wasn’t intentional,” I say, slowly stepping backward up the steps to one of the back tables.
“Let me guess.” He quirks an eyebrow just as I plop down onto a chair. “Your coffee truck was late.” Oh yes, and it was also no secret how much I loved Satan’s juice.
I give him my best and cheesiest smile.
He pushes his glasses back up his nose, dismissing me. “As I was saying, the counterparts of a…”
I pull out my books quickly, skipping to a blank page to take my notes. I’m old school. I could never type fast enough for my notetaking, and I’m a scribbler by nature. I’d jot down incoherent notes from class that only I could understand, and I liked it that way. Can’t do that on my Mac, no matter how fancy and pretty it is.
“Psst.”
A voice catches my attention beside me and after clicking my pen, I look at him sideways. “Hi?”
“You know, that stuff is bad for you, right?” He uses his pen to point at my coffee cup.
I snatch it and cuddle it close to my chest. “My precious.” I’m joking. Anyone who couldn’t point out a LOTR (that’s Lord of the Rings), reference, couldn’t sit with us. By us, I mean me because I don’t have a gang. Well, I have Leila, even though I did have to make her sit and watch the entire series with me. She now gets the references, so that’s why we’re best friends.
He chuckles, sitting back in his chair. “Smeagles, huh? Must be some good coffee.” He winks at me and then focuses his attention back on the professor. Since he’s no longer looking at me, I finally let my eyes take in Mr. Coffee Hater. Clean shaven, almost military cut hair, a collared shirt and tidy jeans on. No sign of tattoos, and no air of danger. He seems, normal. His features are nice with his long eyelashes fanning out over high cheekbones. He is more my type. Safe. And—shit.
“Getting a good look?” He cocks an eyebrow without looking at me.
“Sorry.” I’m terrible at being a girl. This shit sucks.
“Don’t be,” he answers so low I almost miss it.
“Don’t be…what?” I ask, jotting down some notes, but ending up drawing swirls.
“Sorry.”
“Oh,” I lick my lips. “I’m Amethyst.” I guess a little chit-chat can’t hurt.
“I know.” He gapes right at me, his eyes connecting with mine. Two of the softest blue eyes look back at me with dark eyelashes only intensifying the color. “Mason.”
Lunch comes around fast. I take in the food options as I wait in line in the cafeteria. Option one, we have carbs, fats, and more carbs; option two, more carbs, fats, and some added sugar. I’m not a gym nut or a nutritionist per se, but I do maintain a healthy diet (for the most part). Donuts don’t count.
I hear a loud whistle. My head turns toward the table Leila and I both always sit at, only she’s not there. I go back to the lunch menu, snagging some sushi rolls and an apple.
Another whistle echoes out.
“Rosé!”
Maddox is grinning from across the room. He waves me over, but I hesitate, then I see Leila and nod. She’s looking cozy beside Wolf. Traitor. Maddox is wearing destroyed light blue ripped jeans, and a semi razed AC/DC shirt displaying all his muscles. He has a flat cap flipped on backward too.
I make my way to their table, ignoring how the entire cafeteria has taken a front row seat to watch Maddox and me.
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I slide my tray onto the table. “I see you have quite the audience.”
Maddox winks. “Oh, you’ve just noticed that?”
“Mmm.” I bite into my apple while taking a seat. “It’s the year of the thirst, apparently.” He leans back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. “Don’t look at me like that, Maddox.”
“Like what?” A toothpick flicked around inside his mouth.
“Like you know what.”
“So anyway!” Leila interrupts, glaring at us both while taking a piece of lettuce and putting it into her mouth like a bird. The way she eats is a little uncomfortable. It’s borderline painful. She has the unhealthiest obsession with food. Eat it or don’t, don’t half-ass food. It deserves our full ass.
Maddox is still smirking at me.
I kick him under the table, my foot hitting his shin. “Ouch!”
“Oops. Sorry.” I bite into my sushi.
His eyes narrow. “You don’t look sorry.” They drop to my mouth and then come back to my eyes.
“Because I’m not.” I suck the soy sauce off my finger.
“Hey! Mad, got a minute?” a girl says from beside us. I’m too busy eating my sushi to look up at her. As I said, food deserves your full ass.
His focus stays on me, dropping to my mouth briefly.
“Maddox?” the voice repeats nervously.
He continues to pin me with his stare. It’s like a competition of who is going to break contact first. It won’t be me.
“Sup?” Maddox finally glimpses up at her, dragging his attention away from me.
I exhale slowly and quietly so no one can hear it, then nudge my head at Aquaman. “Now why are you looking at me like that?”
Talon continues to smile, but I appreciate it. It takes my attention away from whatever Maddox is saying to whoever is beside us.
“You coming to the party this weekend?” Talon asks, biting into his sub.
“I was thinking about it.”
Talon’s lip kicks up. “Got any other hot friends?”
“Hey!” a girl’s voice pipes in. “Settle down, tiger.” She softly places her tray down, her eyes going around the table, then they settle on me. “Hi, I’m Liza, also known as Talon’s girlfriend.”
Talon has a girlfriend? Could have fooled me.
I shoot Talon a confused look, okay, I could be glaring.
He winks, pulling her onto his lap, where she sits comfortably. I wonder if she knows that her man has cheated on her. I’m almost certain he has. She rolls her eyes. Was I that transparent? I’m not happy. I’d worked hard to not be so obvious.
“We have an open relationship.”
Leila chokes on her food.
I don’t falter, mainly because I don’t really care. It isn’t unheard of, and she seems relaxed about it. She gives me hippie vibes with her long maxi dress, moon shaped earrings, and long blonde braid. She’s classically pretty and very petite. Talon would break her for sure.
The next question comes out of my mouth as fast as it comes into my head. “Do you guys swing too?”
The girl who is talking with Maddox is now sitting on his lap.
Maddox coughs. “What?”
I ignore the girl, glaring straight at him. “I asked if they were swingers since they had an open relationship.”
“Who the fuck would even ask that. Gross,” blondie mutters, flipping her fake long hair over her shoulder.
“That’s just cruel,” I mutter to myself, biting into my roll of sushi.
“What is?” she snaps, one perfect eyebrow arched. Bet she pencils that shit in.
I shrug. “The fact that you stole some poor horse’s tail and are now using it as hair.”
Her jaw drops open.
Maddox chokes on a laugh.
Leila snorts, along with Liza and Talon.
“Who the fuck—”
“—Hey! Watch your fucking tone,” Maddox snaps at her, moving his knee so she falls to the ground.
My head hurts from all the drama in a very short span of time. I want to go back to my bubble, to not existing. I like Leila because we have a natural bond, but as far as my people skills went, that is abou
t as far as I am willing to go. I don’t want to be the asshole, but I’m well aware that it almost always comes off as that.
I stand, picking up my small backpack and throwing it over my shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m not feeling well, anyway.”
“Mad!” Blondie brushes her hair out of her face, standing from the floor.
Maddox doesn’t give her any attention because he’s still watching me.
“I’ll see you guys around.”
Maddox is about to open his mouth, but I cut him off by turning on my heel and heading straight for the doors. I shove through them, continuing to hold my breath. I was supposed to go to the halls, but instead, I found myself going straight to the student parking lot. Pulling my keys out of my pocket, I push the button to unlock my car and throw my backpack into the passenger seat. I exhale softly, my fingers gripping around the steering wheel and rest my head against my hands, closing my eyes.
“Too many people.”
Starting my car, I reverse out of the parking spot. I can’t be here right now. I drive all the way to the other side of town and park my car in my usual spot. My heart relaxes, my airways expand at the mere sight of the halfpipes.
I push play on my playlist, shoving my earphones into my ears. Red Jumpsuit Apparatus “Guardian Angel” starts playing as I drop my deck onto the concrete, leaping onto it and kicking off the ground. What the fuck is it with Maddox, and why do I let him get to me so damn much. Yes, there’s that connection from when we were little, but it’s gotta be more than that. Surely. The song switches to “Lonely Day” by System of a Down—perfect. The deep strumming of the song relaxes me as I fix my focus on the stairs that take you down to more ramps. I do a three-sixty hardflip down, landing smoothly, then push myself toward the launch ramp. Driving up one of the launch ramps, I do an ollie onto the second one. A few seconds later, I head toward the halfpipe, but before I hit it, I squat all my weight down slightly, and kick up, landing the Dragon Flip perfectly.
Boom! I fucking love the Dragon Flip.
I keep going to the halfpipe, tail stall at the rim, then flip it one-eighty and head back down. My muscles clench and sweat drips down my skin as I lead myself to the full pipe. I kick off my board and make my way up the steps. Resting the tip of my deck on the rim, I position myself onto it slightly before leaning forward. My heart races as I head up the ramp, I crooked stall on it briefly before flying back down the ramp onto the other side. I drive up the ramp smoothly, and then put all my weight on the board before kicking up, landing on one hand upside down, grabbing my deck with my other hand. My heart pounds as I hold the move for a couple seconds, Two Feet “Go Fuck Yourself” pounding through my eardrums, then I let go, diving straight back down in a perfect landing, and up the other side of the ramp again. I stay until the night sets in and my clothes are drenched in sweat. Usually I have clarity after a major session like this one, but my thoughts are still a mess when it comes to Maddox.