“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.