Jamilah waved at me excitedly. “Hey, Hudson.”
“Hi, Jamilah.” I grinned at the little girl who was about to dive into the pool. “How is school going?”
“School is school.” She made a face. “It’s boring. But I think I’m going to make the swim team.”
“Well of course.” I smiled at her and looked around. “Where is your mom?”
“At work.” Jamilah chewed on her lower lip as she twisted her arms. “She got a new job, but she has to work evenings.”
“Where’s Marcus?”
“Doing his homework.” She shrugged. “I just came to practice swimming for an hour. Don’t tell my mom.”
I looked at her and tried to keep the smile on my face. I didn’t want her to see how upset I was. Jamilah was only ten and her brother was only eight. I felt bad that their mom had to leave them alone while she went to work, but I was angry that Jamilah was here by herself when I knew she was still a beginning swimmer.
“Hey, next time you want to go swimming and your mom isn’t home, come and find me, okay?” I gave her a look. “And if I’m not home, wait until me or your mom is available.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Do you want to race?”
“Race?” I laughed. “But you know you’ll beat me.”
“I won’t.” She giggled. “I’ll be slow this time.”
“You can’t go slow just for me.” I smiled at her. “You need to go your fastest.”
“I will.” I watched the light fade from her eyes before she spoke again. “Hudson, do you think I have a real shot of making the team?”
“Of course!”
“But what if my mom can’t afford it?” She looked away from me. “There are fees to be a part of the team and she just got this job.”
“Jamilah, you’re ten. Let your mom worry about that.” I ran my hands over the top of her head to comfort her. “You just practice swimming.”
“Yeah, I guess.” She nodded. “Okay, one, two, three, go.” And with that, she did a clean dive into the pool and started doing a front crawl.
I watched her swim for a few seconds and then dove in behind her. The water felt cold and crisp against my skin, and my brain soared to life at the shock of my body submerging into the cold water without a second thought. My arms stretched out and got into their rhythm automatically: one, two, breathe, one, two, breathe.
I saw Jamilah’s legs kicking furiously in front of me as she tried desperately to keep her lead, and I slowed my pace slightly to ensure that I didn’t overtake her. I wanted to give her the confidence she needed to make certain she didn’t give up on her swimming dream. I could tell from the way that she was talking that it wasn’t going to take much to dissuade her.
It saddened me that she wasn’t pursuing her dreams like a normal kid. A kid shouldn’t have to worry about money or being bullied. I sighed inwardly as I reached the other side of the pool and thought to myself, If only there was a way for me to give her mom some money.
“I beat you, I beat you!” She splashed me with the water as she grinned at me. “I can’t believe I beat you.”
“I guess it’s the Olympics up for you next.”
“They’ll play the national anthem for me,” she beamed. “That would be awesome.”
“Yes, it would be.” I nodded in agreement.
“I wish it would really happen.” The smile left her face and she pushed herself out of the pool.
“It could happen if you practice a lot.” I jumped out of the pool with her.
“I don’t know.” She looked down. “I have to support my mom.”
Her words made me freeze. The memories that brought back to me were bittersweet, and I could feel my heart racing. Jamilah stood there shivering as water slid down her body and her eyes were full of sadness. She was too young to be taking on the cares of her mother.
I repeated the words I had said to Clara so many times. “It’s not your responsibility to take care of your mom.”
“She doesn’t make much money.” She shrugged. “I want to help her.”
“That’s admirable of you, Jammy.” I gave her a quick hug. “But your mom is doing fine.”
“I wish she was home more.” She hugged me back and then giggled. “What flavor jam am I?”
“What flavor jam do you want to be?” I whispered, playing the game we’d been playing for the last year.
“Not raspberry jam.” She made a face. “Or mixed fruit. Mixed fruit jam is yucky.”
“What about strawberry?” I smiled down at her. “You like strawberry jam, don’t you?”
“Yes!” She smiled up at me. “I love strawberry jam.”
“Then you’re my strawberry Jammy.” I winked at her, and she giggled.
“I should go and check on Marcus.” She sighed. “Make sure he’s doing his homework.”
“Yeah, you should.” I smiled. “I’ll walk you to your apartment.”
She shook her head and made a little face. “You don’t have to do that.”
I laughed. “Have I told you that you remind me of a girl I once knew?”
She shook her head as we walked. “No, who?”
“When I was younger, I used to tease a girl on the bus. Her name was Riley, and one day she went to her mom and complained about me. Her mom came to my parents’ house and told them what was going on. She asked if she could ask me to protect her instead of my being punished.” I smiled at the memory as I spoke. “Well, that girl and I became friends, and she always used to make faces at me.”
“Is she your best friend?”
“No. Luke. You remember Luke? Well, he’s my best friend.”
“He’s goofy.” She made a face and then stopped, her hand flying to her mouth as she looked at me sheepishly. “I mean, he’s nice, but goofy.”
“That describes him perfectly.” I smiled at her.
“So, are you and Riley still friends?”
“No, not really.” I frowned as I thought of her. I paused as I let the feelings of love, joy, wonder, hurt, horror, and heartbreak wash over me. “She has her own life now.” I tried to smile again, but couldn’t.
I could see Riley’s face in my mind as clear as day. It made me feel incredibly guilty and incredibly sad. Riley was a part of my life that I couldn’t think about anymore. Not after what had happened. Not after Clara. It didn’t matter what I wished were different. This was my life now. I thought back to my earlier conversation with Luke and sighed inwardly. I had a feeling I was going to try and enter that fight. A million dollars would go a long way. I knew what Clara would want me to do, and I couldn’t let her down. Not now.
Chapter 6
Riley
Present Day
The taste of sin is sweet. Ridiculously sweet—like honey dipped in sugar. It’s satisfying for one distinct moment before you realize that it’s too much and you regret taking a bite. Especially if you’re like me and you’ve taken the biggest bite your mouth could handle.
“Riley, there is no way that you are going to be able to go in there and fool those guys into believing that you know a thing about underground fighting.”
“You don’t know my powers of persuasion.” I laughed. “And my acting skills are also great. I’ll be fine.”
“Unfortunately, I do know about your bad wannabe-actress skills. Also, you don’t have any powers of persuasion.” Eden shook her head. “Just because you watched one YouTube video about how to persuade people to believe you’re invisible doesn’t mean you have any mad skills. In fact, it gives you no skills and makes you a bit of an idiot.”