by M. N. Forgy
“Eh, he doesn’t come out much unless he’s checking his mail or pruning his bushes. Now your sister Journey, that’s a whole other story.” She shakes her head in disappointment. I furrow my brows confused.
“What do you mean, I just talked to her four days ago and everything seemed fine.”
“Well she lies. That girl’s name is always on someone’s tongue. She is a mess Tate, I tried to tell you that.” Roughly six months ago Chloe called me telling me my little sister was arrested for underage drinking. She was caught in the back seat of some guy’s car drunk out of her mind. She’s been sleeping around a lot it seems. I thought I did my sisterly duties in steering her clear of opening her legs to every man who whispers sweet nothings into her ear. I guess she played me.
“Well, I’m here now and plan to put a stop to that shit.” I’ll snatch every little prick trying to come near my sister and break it off if I have to. My eyes drift back to the blue and white bungalow sitting right next to my dad’s house. It’s like a magnet, I can’t help but look at it and see memories of everything that ever happened flash through my mind. I spent a lot of my childhood on the front stoop of that house.
My mind starts to drift back to memory lane, but I turn toward the back of my car to gather my things, refusing to let it.
“You sure it’s cool I stay with you for a couple nights?”
“Yeah, Mom won’t mind. You know she loves you like her own.” Chloe’s mom has always been cool with me. When Chloe and her mom moved here we clicked right away. It’s always been just Chloe and her mom though. Her mother refuses to date when she can go to the store and buy a vibrator. She said, “I’d rather put up with my vibrator than have to put up with a deadbeat man on a daily basis. You can’t replace a non-working man as easily as batteries, my dear.”
“It’s just until I can figure out what the hell I’m going to say to my dad. Maybe if I land a job before telling him he won’t get so freaked out.”
“It’s cool, I understand. But we both know that he’s still going to freak out, especially when he finds out you got into a fight.”
“Yeah,” I cringe. “I don’t plan on telling him that part.”
She giggles and grabs one of my gym bags and heads toward her front door. “Hey Ma! Tate is here!” she announces as she pulls the old screen door open with her foot. Her house looks like all the other bungalows on the block, the only difference is the awning over their front window, and the purple front door.
Grabbing the last bag out of the back of my car, my eyes sweep back to the two houses. Sounds of laughter and faint whispers of love echo in my head.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
Entering Chloe’s home Mrs. Avery throws a dishtowel over her shoulder and opens her arms wide. Her dark curls are pulled back into a blue bandana, her green eyes smiling as she embraces me into a big hug.
“Tate, it’s so good to see you, sugar.” She pats my back. She smells of spices and hairspray.
“Hi Mrs. Avery.”
Grabbing the dishtowel off her shoulder she snaps it at me. “Girl, hush. You’re practically family, you call me Fiona, or Momma.”
I smile, the warm welcome is just what I needed.
“Thank you for letting me crash here for a while.” Looking around the living room it looks just like I remember. A big floral couch with mismatched throw pillows. The corner of the room still has the desk and chair where Fiona stashes her nail polish collection. She works at a spa, and does the best nail art I’ve ever seen.
“Of course, I know how your daddy can be. One day, he’ll move on baby, until then you’re just gonna have to be strong for the both of you.” She brushes her hand on my cheek as her eyes size me up. “You hungry?”
“Starving.” The word fall from my mouth before I can even think about them. You can only eat so much fast food before it all starts to taste the same.
“Chloe, show her where to put her things, and help me set the table. I made lasagna, hope that’s okay?”
“Sounds delicious.” I smile.
Sitting at the table, Fiona serves everyone a heaping pile of noodles, melty cheese, and meat before sitting at the opposite side of the table.
Grabbing my fork, I dive in like a convict having their last meal. I barely come up to breathe as the gooey cheese scorches my taste buds.
This definitely beats Ramen noodles back in the dorm room.
“You eat as much as you want baby, you need a little meat on those bones,” Fiona chuckles to herself as she pushes her food around on her plate.
“Sorry.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin realizing how savage I must look. She throws a hand at me as if I’m being ridiculous.
“So, what are your plans now that you’re back in town?” Fiona questions with her mouth full. I nibble at my inner cheek as I think about how to reply.
“I’m looking for a good gym, with a professional trainer,” I shrug.
“Oh yeah, you still fighting and whatnot?”
Chloe and I freeze, Chloe’s silently telling me to choose my next words carefully. Fiona has a big mouth, if I tell her I got into a fight she’d probably be proud and tell the whole neighborhood… and then my dad would find out.
“I haven’t been practicing if that’s what you mean.” I avoid answering her directly. It’s not a lie per-se. I haven’t been to a mixed martial arts class, or even near a gym, in about seven years. It wasn’t until I got in a fight with Jacki that I realized I have been living a shell of a life for far too long. I felt alive, a rush if you will, when my suppressed anger and hurt surfaced. Some females were born to be good business women, or eye candy. I, on the other hand, I was made to kick ass. Glancing up, Fiona and Chloe both are staring at me, as if they want me to explain further. “I almost enrolled in a kick-boxing class once, but it was a group kind of thing where the instructor did a move and everyone would try to imitate it, it wasn’t one on one.”
I didn’t enroll because it made me think of what I used to have, and that hurt more than anything. Staying away from it all made being numb easier.
“Ugh, reminds me of that nail class Ma and I signed up for, remember that Ma?” Chloe slurs with food in her mouth.
“Oh yeah, it said on the Internet they had a technician that did celebrity nails, and could teach us how to do this or that. Girl, we sat in a big room, and looked at a slide show for an hour. What a waste of time and money.” Fiona shakes her head frustrated. “So what kind of gym you looking for, sugar?”
“I’m not sure. Probably something small where a coach can train me one on one. Someone who knows what they’re doing when it comes to MMA would be nice, but that might be harder to find out here.” Fiona and Chloe both still, their forks mid-air as their brows raise.
“Professional?” Fiona’s voice cracks.
Swallowing, I nod.
“Like in a ring, with people ten times bigger than you?” Chloe’s voice rises. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“They have weight divisions, I won’t be up against someone ten times bigger than me.” I can’t help but laugh lightly.
Fiona’s intense stare breaks when her mouth curves into a small smile.
“MMA, that’s different from your daddy’s boxing, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. It’s like wrestling and boxing, and kick boxing all in one. Hence the Mixed Martial Arts.”
Chloe’s head whips in my direction, her face conveying I’m insane.
Maybe I am crazy. Is it hot in here? I feel unbearably hot.
Setting my fork down, I take a sip of cold milk. My throat feeling suddenly dry.
“Your dad will flip his lid!” Chloe spits. Fiona kicks her under the table, missing and hitting the leg, causing the salt and pepper to clank together. “What? I’m just saying…” She side glances her mother.
“It’ll take a lot of work, but I’m sure if anyone can do it, it’s you Tate.” Fiona gives a reassuring nod.
“You’re nuts,” Chloe object
s, her eyes wide as she looks down at her plate. That’s why I love her though, no filter. “I have to say, I thought you moved to LA and grew out of all that fighting stuff. Tell me you at least let some surfer screw you on his surf board?” Chloe asks seriously.
I laugh at Chloe’s utter ridiculousness. Even though I haven’t practiced fighting, I never stopped following it. Fighting is who I am.
“You know, I think I know someone that might be able to help you in the whole fighting mumbo jumbo.” Fiona gets up from the table, leans over the kitchen table, and plucks a pen and paper from her purse next to the sink.
“Really? Who?” Chloe and I ask at the same time.
Fiona turns, and hands me the paper.
It has a random address on it.
“Go there tomorrow.” She points at me. “Don’t leave until you show them what you got Tate.” My heart skips a beat. A real gym, a real chance at doing what I love. “I’m proud of you Tate. Don’t let anyone crush your dreams, especially those who are close to you. Move forward baby girl,” Fiona inspires.
Fiona blew up an air mattress on the floor and from first glance you’d think it’d be uncomfortable but as soon as I slip under the sheets my eyes grow incredibly heavy as I stare at my phone screen. I’ve been YouTubing basic MMA moves. Some I remember doing when I was kid, others are a little more complex. I really need a test subject to try these out on. I wonder if Chloe would be a willing participant?
“Hey Tate, you awake?” Chloe’s voice breaks through my haze.
“Kinda,” I croak, setting my dying phone down.
“You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into? I’ve watched those fights at the bar before, they’re… intense.”
“I’ve been practicing judo since I was a kid. Even when my father forbid me to fight anymore. I’ll never know unless I try,” I reply sleepily.
“I remember you sneaking to those classes with Camden.” I tense hearing his name for the first time since I’ve been here. God, I miss him. I’d do anything to see him again so can explain why I left.
Memories of a little blond haired boy and me faintly flash in the back of my mind.
My heart aches, and I shake my head of the tormenting images.
“I may be inexperienced, but I learned a lot as a kid and recently looked a lot of basic moves up. What not to do, and what to do in a situation, that kind of thing.” I sigh heavily, not feeling like I’m explaining myself clearly. “I can’t explain the way I feel when I’m slamming my knuckles into someone’s face. I just—I feel in control of my life when I’m the one delivering the pain for once.” I roll over, facing the wall. “I don’t have to have it all figured out, I just need to move forward.”
She scoffs, but doesn’t respond, allowing me to drift into a deep sleep.
***
Police sirens startle me awake. Peeling my eyes open, red and blue lights flash along the walls of Chloe’s room.
“What is that?” I groan pulling myself from the floor. Growing up we hardly ever saw police in this area. Has it gone downhill over the years?
Chloe groans pulling her pillow over her face. Getting up I step on her bed to look out the window.
Spreading the blinds apart, I spot the cop car stopping in front my old house and what looks like my sister and Dad outside yelling at each other. Adrenaline wakes me like a cold glass of water to the face.
“Shit!”
Jumping off Chloe’s bed I nearly trip on the air mattress rushing out of the house.
“What is it?” Chloe hollers, but I don’t stop.
Exiting her house, the screen door slams as I run four houses up.
“No, you don’t understand, Daddy,” Journey pleads, her hands pressed up against my father’s chest.
“I understand alright and he’s going to jail!” My father points over Journey’s shoulder. Following his finger I spot a guy wearing a red baseball cap backwards, a smug expression on his face while he crudely grabs at his crotch.
The cop gets out of his car, and tugs at his utility belt.
“Daddy, it’s not his fault I shouldn’t have…” Journey stops short and lowers her head. The streetlight shines on her face and I notice her nose is bleeding.
Not caring that either of them know I’m here, I stomp forward.
“What the hell happened?” My tone not hiding the panic in my voice. Dad and Journey’s eyes both snap to me.
“Tatum?” Dad questions, squinting his eyes. “When did you get in? Where-“ he stops mid-question looking behind me. Turning to see what he’s looking at, Chloe and Fiona are standing in the street. Fiona’s arms are crossed, and Chloe is biting on her nails anxiously.
“I’ll explain later. What happened here?” I gesture toward Journey.
Dad nods, and focuses his gaze back on Journey.
“I’m not entirely sure, I’m just getting pieces of the story. He dropped her off at home, and I came out to tell her how late it was and I spotted her face. A neighbor must have called the cops.” Dad looks around the neighborhood curiously.
“Hello there, I’m Officer Gregor, I got a noise complaint.”
“That asshole hit my daughter. Take him in!” Dad points toward the guy standing at the end of the driveway.
“NO!” Journey nearly screams. “Scotty didn’t do anything. I’m trying to tell you that!”
“So, he didn’t hit you?” Officer Gregor raises a skeptical eyebrow.
Journey bites at her lip, looking at Scotty. “No.”
She’s lying. When she lies, her head falls, her eyes looking anywhere but directly at you, and she bites her bottom lip.
“So what happened to your face then?” The officer interrogates.
“I just, I got a bloody nose. I get them a lot.” She shrugs, looking down.
“No you don’t,” I sneer. Her head snaps up, and she glares at me.
The officer rolls his neck. “Look, do you want to press charges or not kid?”
“No!” Journey steps in.
“Yes!” Dad interjects.
“Sir, I’m afraid the gentleman hasn’t done anything to you for you to press charges.”
My dad snarls in response. “So you’re not going to do anything?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m going to escort him off the property, and if you have any more problems give us a call.” The officer looks at Journey with a disgusted look and walks over to Scotty.
“You lied,” I growl.
Journey tosses her long wavy hair over her shoulder, she looks thinner than usual. “I love him, Tate.”
“Love?” I can’t help but snarl at the word. “He obviously feels the same. How long have you been together? What do you even know about him?” I ramble.
“We have been together a month, and I know a lot about him, thank you very much,” she snaps.
I shake my head. Chloe was right, Journey is a mess. Blood drips from her inflamed nose, staining her dress.
“Yeah, it looks like love.” My tone drips with sarcasm.
Glancing back at the officer and Scotty, they are walking different ways. The officer back to his cruiser, and Scotty is headed toward a newer model Mustang.
“When did you get in?” Dad asks. He has that face, the one with disapproval. It reminds me of someone being constipated.
“Um, yesterday.”
“Yesterday?!”
“It’s late, I’ll explain in the morning.”
Dad’s brows fall inward. “Everything okay?”
The Mustang drives away, and the cop follows. Keeping my eyes on the taillights I reply, “Yeah, everything is fine. Just left school early.”
He sighs, clearly frustrated with me.
“What does that mean?”
Lowering my head, my shoulders tense. I am stressed to the max and would fall to my knees in praise if I could unleash the anger running through my veins right now. I can’t think when I’m this pent up. I just need to get this over with and tell him.
“I d
ropped out of school. I’m back home. For good.” I don’t lie, I just tell him half the truth.
“WHAT!?” His voice echoes through the neighborhood. I’m sure the cop is going to be turning around for a round two at the Davis household tonight.
Bringing my stare to Dad’s, I square my shoulders and lift my chin. Coming here is what I want. One hundred percent. I am not backing down. Not this time.
“I’m sorry Dad, but school is not for me. You told me to try it out, and I did. Truth be told, I gave up trying long ago, I just didn’t want to hurt you so I stayed there and was miserable. I gave up everything! Things I can never get back!” My heart aches as I look at the house next to my dad’s. You know when some people say you don’t know what you had ‘til it’s gone, well that happened to me. I had an amazing guy who was my best friend and I gave it up. I had a road paved for fighting, and I left it behind. Mourning and grief make an eighteen-year old girl more vulnerable than you might think. I was confused, and I didn’t know what to do. So I made a choice I thought was right and tried to move forward.
Rolling his lips onto each other, Dad’s nose scrunches in anger. The blood rushing to his face makes the scars of his previous life shine with honor. A lot of people might be afraid of my dad’s temper, but not me. I like it when he’s mad, it reminds me of the dad I used to have.
“You’re making a mistake,” he seethes.
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But at least it’ll be my decision and my mistake to make.”
“Your mother would be so disappointed,” he jabs, and my nose flares as my chest constricts with sadness.
“That’s a low blow for someone who doesn’t fucking box anymore.” His eyes go as wide as saucers. I’m not supposed to bring up his boxing career. He gave up everything too after we found out Mom was sick. Our lives fell apart after that.
“Just stop!” Journey holds both her hands out, as if she’s trying to split us up. Her tie dyed dress swaying at her feet.
Journey sniffs, running her hand under her bloody nose.
“I can’t believe you let him hit you.” I flex my fingers. If that cop hadn’t been there, I would have decked that asshole.