“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 objects, 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 dropped 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.
“I don’t hit people Tate, I love them.”
I palm my face.
“Oh my God, you’re a hippie. When did this happen?” I groan in disbelief.
“At least she listens to me,” Dad snides, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Right, because eating flowers, shitting rainbows, and getting smacked in the face by your boyfriend is ideal over me dropping out of school to fight professionally.”
They both look at me stunned.
“You’re what!” My dad rubs at his chin, his face as white as cotton. Shit, I didn’t mean to let that last one slip.
“Don’t even!” I point at him, warning him he’s edging on my last nerve.
“I forbid it!” Dad looks at me with a blister red face.
“Funny thing, I don’t care what you want anymore. You don’t want to fight that is your decision and your life. But, I’m living mine now.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to pick the fighter’s life when you have so much more going for you.” Dad shakes his head, not daring to look me in the eye.
“I’m not picking the fighter’s life, the fighter’s life chose me!” I point to myself, hollering so loud I can feel my face flush with anger. He used to be a boxer, a damn good one at that. It’s in my blood to fight, and I can’t help that.
“You need to relax.” Journey’s bushy brows peak. “Smoke some weed or something guys, geez.” Dad tilts his head to the side, shifting on his feet. “You smoke pot, Journey?” His question doesn’t come out like he’s angry anymore. No, it comes out as if he’s about to ask her for a joint. What the hell have I walked myself into?
Hollowing my cheeks I blow out an irritated breath and turn on my heels to head back toward Fiona and Chloe.
“You know what, I’m going back to bed. I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now.”
“Nice to know your best friend will let you sleep on her couch when you’re homeless!” Dad sneers from behind me.