Love Tap(2)

“Good, maybe she can run back to her momma for some fashion advice,” Jacki continues.

I stall staring at the double doors that lead out of the auditorium.

Just leave. Keep going.

Closing my eyes, something I’ve suppressed for years breaks through its cage slamming full force in my chest.

I drop my book bag, and turn on my heel.

“What’d you say?”

Sitting sideways in her seat, tapping her desk with a pencil, Jacki giggles.

“You heard me, you’re a—”

I don’t let her finish. I leap over her friend and grab Jacki by the throat, pulling her from her seat. She screams, her fake blonde hair flailing everywhere as I drag her across the desks to the aisle.

The class screams with excitement as I drop Jacki like the sack of shit she is. God I feel fantastic! Like a tiger at the zoo finally being released into the wild.

I feel… alive. Day after day, I have sat in a chair behind a desk living a mundane boring life. Giving up on family, dreams, and most importantly, myself.

Jacki stares back at me with mascara smeared eyes, the look of fear fueling me to continue. I smile, and strike her in the face, throwing her back on the stairs.

But this, the violence, it’s what I long for.

She wails, cupping her nose. “You crazy bitch!”

Keegan jumps to her feet in her seat looking over Jacki laying in the aisle before looking up at me. “Holy shit!”

“What is going on?” Professor Kelly jumps from her desk making her way up the stairs.

“Run!” Keegan points at the double doors smiling just as big as I am.

Stepping over Jacki, I grab my bag but stop as I look at Jacki who is only a foot from me.

“Remember that next time you want to bully someone. Grow up.” I stand upright, shuffling my bag on my back, and I sprint out of class.

Quickly, I make it to my dorm room and throw what I can into bags. Drawers left on the floor and my mattress overturned, I make a mess of the room. Keegan is going to kill me when she gets back. Swiping my phone off the shelf where we keep the Ramen noodles, a pair of scissors fall to the floor nearly spearing me in the foot and landing on a magazine. I stare at the beautiful blonde on the front of the cover. I took this magazine into the mall months ago trying to imitate the model’s makeup. Hundreds of dollars later and I didn’t feel any prettier. I tried to fit into the LA lifestyle, I really tried but I’m just different. I don’t care about fashion, or chick flicks, or the so called normal shit that girls my age should like. If LA can’t turn me into a prima donna, then nobody can.

I glance up finding Keegan’s giant mirror with unicorn and mermaid stickers plastered all over it, my reflection looking back at me. My painted eyes and fake blush looking ridiculous on me.

Grabbing a couple of Kleenex I rub at my face, pressing as hard as I can to rub the shit off my eyelids and cheeks until my skin is near raw.

I’m done pretending.

Dropping the makeup smeared tissues to the floor I grab my bags and glance at the trashed room one last time.

My heart beats wildly as I flush my journalism career down the drain.

This isn’t what I wanted anyway.

I don’t want to report about the best fighters in the world.

I want to be one.





Chapter One


Tate



Gripping the steering wheel my hands begin to break in a nervous sweat. The setting sun casts an orange glow along the horizon and blinds my already stinging blood shot eyes. The countless miles and hours of driving wearing me thin. The sign for Chicago finally comes into view and I sag into my seat with relief.

My home.

Finally.

My chest constricts as I enter the city, my sudden unease slightly waking me from my catatonic state.

I’ve been driving off and on for two days now, and I’m more than ready for a shower and a warm bed. Easing my way into the north side, my hands begin to tremble and my heart rate picks up. I knew coming back home wouldn’t be easy.

I moved to California four years ago for college. Sure I flew back home for Christmas, but I always had a return flight back, and quickly. When I left home I left behind heartache, and I thought forgetting would be best for everyone. I was wrong though, because here I am… driving right back into it all.

Tall sky scrapers greet me as pedestrians without any common sense try and race to the other side of the road.

Pulling my phone out, I text Chloe. She’s a childhood friend who is the same age as me; twenty-one. She’s the only one I’ve stayed in touch with over the years.

Almost there – T

Shoving the phone into the cup holder I wait at a red light and wipe my sweaty palms on my jean shorts.

“Jesus, get a grip, Tate,” I whisper anxiously.

Picking my phone back up, I notice Chloe texted back.

I can’t wait!!!! -C

You didn’t tell anyone I was coming did you? -T

No. –C

That’s a relief.

A horn sounds from behind me, making me jump in my seat. Scowling, I glance in my side mirror and see some * flipping me the bird from the window of a blue pickup truck.

I forgot how pushy people can be here. “I’m definitely back in Chicago,” I mumble to myself.

Driving to my old neighborhood I can’t help but rub at my forehead, and chew on my lip. The street is lined with familiar bungalow houses. They are set so close to one another that I remember being able to see into our neighbor’s windows when I was a kid. Chicago can have a bad rep for violence and gangs, but looking at this suburb where I grew up, you’d never know it.