Flip Trick Read online

  Flip Trick

  Amo Jones

  Contents

  Title page

  Playlist

  Love is a theme park..

  Prologue

  Three Thursdays Later

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  MADDOX

  Chapter 6

  MADDOX

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  AMETHYST

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  MADDOX

  AMETHYST

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  One month

  Two months

  Three months

  Four months

  Five…

  Chapter 20

  MADDOX

  AMETHYST

  MADDOX

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  PART 2

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  MADDOX

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  One week passes

  Two weeks.

  MADDOX

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  MADDOX

  Chapter 47

  Two months later

  Epilogue

  Quote

  MANIK

  MANIK blurb

  ‘MANIK Chapter

  Rythm & Blu by SL Jennings

  Track one - R&B

  S.L. Jennings stalker links

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Amo Jones

  Stalk me, I love it.

  Copyright © 2018 by Amo Jones

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imaginations. Any resemblance to actual person’s, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

  Editor: Ellie McLove, Gray Ink

  Proof reader: Gray Ink

  New Americana – Halsey

  River (feat. Ed Sheeran) – Eminem, Ed Sheeran

  rockstar – Post Malone, 21 Savage

  I Like Me Better – Lauv

  OT – Niykee Heaton

  More Than a Feeling – Boston

  Californication – Red Hot Chili Peppers

  Nexus – Niykee Heaton

  Ride Or Die – Yelawolf

  In This World - Bonus Track – Yelawolf

  Have A Great Flight – Yelawolf

  Heartbreak – Yelawolf

  I Run - Feat. Yelawolf – Slim Thug

  Like Father, Like Son – Struggle Jennings, Joshua Hedley

  Like A Sewing Machine (feat. Yella Wolf & Struggle) – Alex King, Yella Wolf, Struggle

  Ex-Factor – Ms. Lauryn Hill

  Nowhere Fast (feat. Kehlani) - Extended Version – Eminem, Kehlani

  Catfish Billy – SupaHotBeats

  Buffalo Bill – Eminem

  Arsonist's Lullabye – Hozier

  Work Song – Hozier

  Mad – Ne-Yo

  Knockin' On Heaven's Door – Guns N' Roses

  Two Weeks – FKA twigs

  Candy & Dreams – Yelawolf

  I Said Hi – Amy Shark

  Demons – Jelly Roll, Lil Wyte

  Nice For What – Drake

  Smells Like Teen Spirit – Nirvana

  Heart-Shaped Box – Nirvana

  I Don't Wanna Know (feat. Enya And P. Diddy) – Mario Winans, Diddy, Enya

  Had Some Drinks – Two Feet

  Demons – Jelly Roll, Lil Wyte

  Now You're Gone - Video Edit – Basshunter feat. DJ Mental Theos Bazzheadz

  Quick Musical Doodles – Two Feet

  Never Tear Us Apart – Bishop Briggs

  Eyes Closed – Halsey

  Taste (feat. Offset) – Tyga, Offset

  Solo (feat. Demi Lovato) – Clean Bandit, Demi Lovato

  Glycerine - Remastered – Bush

  Fly Away – Lenny Kravitz

  Hunger in My Stomach – Overtime

  El Chapo – The Game, Skrillex

  Savage (feat. Flux Pavilion & MAX) – Whethan, Flux Pavilion, MAX

  Birthday Sex – Jeremih

  pop a pill – gianni & kyle

  Remember When – Bad Wolves

  Lost Without You – Delta Goodrem

  Privacy – Chris Brown

  Digging My Own Grave – Five Finger Death Punch

  Do You Mind – DJ Khaled, Nicki Minaj, Chris Brown, August Alsina, Jeremih, Future, Rick Ross

  Get You Right – Pretty Ricky

  Your Guardian Angel – The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

  Sunrise – Our Last Night

  Medley: Let Me Talk to You / My Love – Justin Timberlake, T.I.

  Lonely Day – System Of A Down

  Better Than Me – Hinder

  Third Day Of A Seven Day Binge – Marilyn Manson

  The Love You Need (feat. Rashad) – Mase, Rashad

  To the girls who had barbie dolls because their ninja turtles needed bitches.

  Love is a theme park, so let’s burn this bitch down…

  AMETHYST

  Seven-Years-Old

  “Mommy won’t be long. Okay, sweetie?” my mom said as she climbed out of the car. She was in one of her weird moods again. I had been picking up the shift in her attitude for some time now.

  I sighed when she got out, resting my head on the cool window. Glancing at the cassette player, I considered turning the radio on, but when I reached forward to turn the keys over, I grasped air.

  She had taken the keys with her. Lucky for me, it was a mid-summer day, so my window was cranked down and the sun was pelting down over my skin. I kicked my feet up and let them cross on the door. Beginning to get impatient with my mom, I started whistling to a song I had heard on the radio this week.

  I wondered why my mom always came to Krispy Kreme, and why I always had to sit in the car. I had a feeling she was seeing someone, but I wasn’t completely sure, and why would she hide him from me? It’s not like she was married or even had a boyfriend. I didn’t know why she didn’t do this on a weekday while I was at school, either. It was like she was tormenting me just by doing it. She knew I had ADD, she knew this would drive me crazy having to sit in the car for so long. As if on cue, the familiar shiny black car pulled up beside ours. I tightened my ponytail, inching down the seat a bit more until my top rode up over my belly. I had on loose cargo pants, a tank top, and Circa skate shoes. I’d always preferred boy’s clothes to girl’s clothes. I don’t know why they made our clothes so tight—even at such a young age. Tights, for example. Hideous.

  When the door of the car beside me closed, I p
eeked my head over the top to see if I could catch a glimpse of whoever it was. The windows were darker than normal cars, so dark that I couldn’t see in, so I inched farther up and saw a man in a dark suit entering the donut shop. I sunk back into my seat, huffing out an annoyed breath when I caught the window of the car beside me slowly wind down. My head snapped toward the movement and a young boy, probably a couple years older than me, looked over. He had a cap flipped backward on and dark olive-green eyes. He was cute, that much was obvious, but boys had cooties.

  “Hey,” he said, nodding his head.

  I shuffled uncomfortably. “Hi.”

  I realized that my voice sounded deeper than I intended, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Ah, you like donuts?” My cheeks heated. Why would I say that? Who even…I’m so awkward.

  He chuckled, and that’s when I saw two perfectly crafted indents dip into his cheeks. He had dimples. “My dad does. He comes here every Thursday.”

  “Mine too,” I answered, annoyed once again at my mom. “I mean,” I corrected. “My mom comes here every Thursday at five. She only ever walks out with my tiramisu donuts. I like donuts, so I guess it’s worth it.”

  “Tiramisu is gross, and it has coffee in it. Not good for your height.” I ignored the bright flashing logo of white, green, and red hanging against the old brick.

  Glancing down at my legs, I’d always been taller than most girls my age, so I snapped, “My height is just fine, thank you.”

  He turned up the volume to his car stereo. The song I had heard last week was playing. “Hey,” I nudged my head. “Who sings this?”

  He gave me a side glance. “Lenny Kravitz. It’s called ‘Fly Away’...”

  “Cool.” My head bobbed to the song, and he slowly inched up. I smiled at him, and he caught it, giving me a small one back. Fifteen minutes later, his dad walked back out. I waved goodbye before they departed. A couple minutes after that, my mom was walking out with a smile on her lips, carrying a box of donuts.

  She scooted inside.

  “You know, it’s a good thing you’re a very active kid.”

  I took the box from her, flipping it open and taking out a donut. I bit into it. “Why?” I asked around my mouthful.

  “You are going to have to learn etiquette one day,” she whispered.

  “Maybe.” I scooped out some cream with my finger. “But not today.” I rubbed my finger down her cheek, smudging the cream onto her skin.

  She gasped in shock, and then laughed, taking out a donut for herself. I loved seeing my mom like this. Happy, content. Her and my dad have a friendship, not a relationship, and it was all I’d ever known of them to have. Nothing romantic at all. They separated before I was even born, but it works for us and our dynamic. At the same time, I had never seen my mom with another man either.

  The following Wednesday night, I was giddy and slightly excited that I got to see the boy again the next day. Mom came into my bedroom, just as my eyes were closing.

  “I see you smiling a lot lately, Cherub.” She sunk into the bed beside me. “Anything I should know about?”

  I pulled the blanket up to cover my mouth and shook my head. There was no way I was going to tell her that my chest does a funny twist thing every time I thought of the boy with a pretty smile and strange eyes. I mean, she didn’t even know that he and I had met. Aside from all of that too, my dad was FBI, and he and his partner, who I call Uncle Marcus, always liked to remind me that the day their “princess” got a boyfriend, was the day they’d plant evidence on him just to get him locked up.

  They scared me.

  “You sure?” Mom asked, pulling the blanket down from my mouth. “I could swear… is that…” Then she pulled a candy bar out from under the bed.

  “A Goo-Goo Cluster!” I shot up onto my elbows and then reached for it.

  She giggled. “Don’t tell your dad that I give you candy before bed.” Then she ruffled my hair and kissed my head. She walked to the doorway and switching the light off. Instantly my head was swimming with images of the cute boy with a bright smile but tormented eyes.

  Three Thursdays Later

  “You’ve never tasted a Goo-Goo Cluster before?” I asked, almost offended. “That’s not good.”

  “How is that not good?” He snorted. “Should I be worried about your sugar addiction?”

  I squinted my eyes at him, turning the radio up. We were both sitting in my car this time, and our parents were taking extra-long today. I didn’t mind. I really liked spending time with him.

  “Where do you go to school?” I asked, chewing on my candy. He bit into his and paused his chew.

  “That’s actually really good.” Then he looked at me sideways. “I go to Charming Prep, you?” Of course, he goes to private.

  “Malfroy Elementary.” I picked at the frayed parts of my jeans. “Have you ever skated before?”

  He shrugged. “I sometimes do, but I prefer more hands-on sports.” He looked me up and down. “You obviously skate.”

  I nodded. “Yes. What’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue, yours?”

  “Pink.”

  “Huh.” His eyes slanted. “You don’t look like a pink girl.”

  “I don’t look like a lot of things, but I am some of those things.”

  He paused. “Interesting.”

  “I am not interesting.”

  “You are to me.” His finger started tapping on the side of his leg, his attention drifting out the window. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  I sucked the chocolate off my finger, shaking my head. “Nope. You?”

  “Two brothers.”

  “I always wanted a big family,” I confessed, crumpling my wrapper up and tossing it into the middle console of the car.

  “You really don’t,” he replied flatly.

  “Hey, you’re pretty good at that!” He pointed down to the picture I was drawing. I shrugged. “I like art. All kinds of art, but my favorite is creative writing.” I smudged the lead into the paper. Both our eyes connected briefly, and my heart did that stupid thing again.

  He cleared his throat and both of our heads snapped back to the front doors to see my mom and his dad talking near the entrance. They didn’t see us again.

  Not even when he slipped out of our car and back into his Lincoln.

  Not even all of the weeks after that when we saw each other.

  Every Thursday, my mom met this man. And every Thursday, the boy and I would sit together.

  We never exchanged names, I don’t think it ever crossed our minds to ask. I felt a connection with him, one I had never experienced before. I had seen movies that would talk about soul mates, but who finds their soul mate at seven? And what if someone doesn’t have a soul? Do they still get to find someone? Not saying the boy doesn’t, but sometimes I wonder if a soul is even real. ADD.

  April first was the last time I ever saw him, and my mother never went back to that Krispy Kreme again.

  “Disobey.

  Don’t comply.

  Rebellion is fucking romantic.”

  - Jonny Ox

  AMETHYST

  Some people seem to misuse the word “broken homes.” Like it’s a dirty thing, and I honestly think it stemmed from the word “bastard.” Oh, he’s a bastard child. Now it’s ‘Oh, he comes from a broken home.’ Fuck your stereotypical small box of a brain, Susan, not all split homes are broken. Some are filled with more love than one normal home. Who needs normal, anyway. Normal never makes history. I don’t come from a large family, either. I’m an only child whose parents are also only children. My dad’s parents died in a car accident and my mom’s family? Well, I never really asked—and sort of didn’t want to.

  There was this one-time when I was a young kid, I must have been around two? The memories are murky, but for some reason, I remember snippets out of this particular day—hence the not asking about my mom’s family. It was summer, and I remember my ‘grandma’ taking me away from my mom who was b
usy with another child. I don’t remember the other kid much, and I can’t remember if it was a girl or if he was a boy, but Mom later told me that the child was her friend’s who was getting out of a bad relationship, it’s why I only remember her from that day. So anyway, my ‘grandma’ decided to take me for a walk to the local park. I was sucking on my popsicle, and I can still taste the tangy juice from the icicle trickling down my throat, the sun warming my skin, and the loud slap of my sandals hitting the heel of my foot with every step. I remember squeezing her hand with mine while skipping all the way to the playground with her. She had pointed to the swing set and said she would be right over there, and further pointed toward an old rusted bench seat. I trusted her. She was my family, and furthermore, she was an adult and as a child, I was told I should respect adults, right? I just wasn’t old enough to understand that this only implied to certain adults, not all.

  So, I bounced my happy self toward the swings with my frilly white daisy dress hitting my knees with every skip. Fucking hated that dress. My mom probably soaked up all the time she had putting me in dresses. Little did she know…