Phoenix Simpson

Chapter 10

The dance studio was smaller than I imagined, but it made sense. This wasn't a huge space after all. The floors were made of polished wood and on one side was a wall of mirrors. I couldn't see the speakers from where I was standing, but I could see the woman who was dancing to the music that played. She was the only person in the room.

Her thighs were clad in dark leggings, and she wore a black sleeveless vest top. Her hair was long and braided, tied into a thick ponytail that followed her fluid movements. I wasn't sure what kind of dance this was, but her body moved as if she were a part of the music itself. I found myself simply standing there. She twirled her hips smoothly, a smile on her face as she lost herself in her solo dance. Every movement of her arms and her legs, even how she turned her head, was smooth and timed to the beat of the song. It seemed even the breaths she took, was in rhythm to the music.

I didn't realise when the song ended and she finished dancing. By the time I snapped out of my stupor, she was standing there looking right at me. I took in a breath and stepped back, about to leave for the toilet when she started walking towards me.

"Hey," she waved, smiling as she caught her breath.

I paused. It would be too rude to walk away now. Normally I wouldn't waste a second, but if I was to work here, then I didn't want to give Jazz a reason to end it before it started. She could even be his girlfriend for all I knew.

"Hi," I grunted when she came to stop in front of me, about a meter between us.

Seeing her up close, I immediately noticed beneath the sheen of sweat, the large portion of puckered skin across her chest. The same kind of scars that Jazz had on his hands. Maybe from the same fire.

"I'm Ama," she stuck a hand out to me.

I frowned at it briefly, before reluctantly shaking her hand.

"Phoenix."

"I know," she replied, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Jazz told me about you."

I arched a brow, slightly curious.

"What did he say?"

Ama smiled again, and I narrowed my eyes at her. What the hell was Jazz saying about me behind my back?

"He said he doesn't know much about you, apart from the fact that you were Eddie's cellmate," Ama shocked me by saying. "But that he'd like to help you out. He knows how hard it can be for ex-convicts to get jobs."

"Has he been to jail?" I frowned. "Jazz, I mean?"

"No," she surprised me again. "But we know people who have."

"Like Eddie," I murmured.

"Like Eddie," she nodded, sighing softly.

"How did you know him?" I asked after a pause.

This time Ama dropped her gaze.

"He was my boyfriend," she answered.

"Oh," I creased my brows, trying to remember if Eddie had ever mentioned her.

It was too long ago to recall. Or at least, in my mind I must have shut away those conversations like I did with a lot of my memories in jail.

"He was a good guy," I said with difficulty.

I didn't like thinking about it, but I couldn't deny it was true. Yes, Eddie was a criminal. But so was I. So was nearly everyone in there. And out of the other inmates, we weren't the worst of the bunch. Far from it.

I wondered if Ama knew the details that surrounded Eddie's death. She must have. Jazz knew. So even if she hadn't heard it first-hand, he must have told her. It made me wonder what she thought of me, but then I stopped that line of thinking and cleared my throat. Since when did I care what people thought about me?

"I'm going to the toilet," I said abruptly, and turned to walk away.

Entering through the door which said 'TOILET', I sighed heavily as soon as it shut behind me. So, I was working with not one, but two people who knew Eddie and were close to him. This was getting harder to manage, but I had no choice. This meant money. Even if it wouldn't be a lot, it was better than nothing. It was the price to pay for getting out of the drug game.

When I finished in the toilets, I walked back to the shop floor to see Jazz and Ama talking together by the till. Ama was leaning with her elbows on the counter, her arms toned. I stopped by one of the clothing racks, not sure what to say. Starting conversations wasn't my strongpoint, but thankfully neither Jazz, nor Ama, had a problem with that.

"I didn't ask you before, but what did you think of the dance?" Ama turned to face me, her brows raised expectantly.

I wasn't one for dishing out compliments, especially not to people I didn't know. I also wasn't someone who struggled to tell the harsh truth. But in this case, I'd be lying if I said her dancing had been bad.

"Good," I answered instead.

"Just good?" she laughed, Jazz joining her.

I nodded.

"You're right, he doesn't talk much," she grinned at Jazz.

"I talk just fine, actually," I snapped at her, anger seeping into my muscles and making them tense.

Ama arched her brows again, this time straightening herself up.

"What kind of dancing was that anyway?" I muttered.

I didn't even know why I asked. I didn't know shit about dancing, so whatever answer she was about to give me wouldn't mean anything to me.

"That was mostly contemporary dance," she shrugged. "But I teach street dance and also dancing to Afrobeats as well. I usually mix them all together."

"That...sounds stupid," I blinked.

Jazz stifled what I thought was a laugh, opting to cover his mouth with his fist as he hid a smile.

"Stupid?" Ama cocked her head to the side.

"I said it sounds stupid," I didn't know why I felt the need to clarify.

"Okay, so what dances can you teach then?" she folded her arms across her stomach, a challenging look in her eyes.

I could tell she wasn't upset. Not even fazed. That bothered me. She should have backed down, but she didn't.

"I'm waiting," she sang softly.

This time Jazz couldn't hold back his laughter and he rested his head on the counter, his shoulders shaking as he laughed quietly to himself. I cleared my throat, looking back at Ama who spread her hands out in question.

"I don't dance," I muttered.

"Then that's enough said," she scoffed.

I was almost thankful when I heard the familiar sound of my phone ringing. It would save me having to apologise to Ama, as I could tell was the right thing to do. However, I didn't exactly get this far in life by doing the right thing.

Turning away from the pair, I took a few steps and answered Landon's call.

"Yes?"

"Hey, where are you?" he asked me.

"At work," I replied automatically.

"Wait," Landon paused. "Work?"

"Yeah, I got a job."

"Woah, congratulations," I could hear the grin in his voice. "I got the job too! At the café."

I smiled, "Great."

"We're going to celebrate tonight," Landon was going on.

"Actually, we'll both have work in the morning," it felt strange saying that.

"Who cares about that? We're drinking tonight, get home as soon as you can," Landon wasn't taking no for an answer.

I huffed, but was still smiling, "Fine. See you soon."

I ended the call and turned back to a curious looking Jazz and Ama.

"My brothers are expecting me home soon."

"Alright, I guess I can give you a real induction tomorrow then," Jazz said to me. "It won't take long, you could start your shift right after."

"How long are my shifts going to be?" I asked.

"We'll work that out tomorrow. Bring in your passport and proof of address too. We do everything by the book here," Jazz smirked lightly.

"I expect nothing less," I scoffed back.

Jazz wasn't a criminal by the sound of things. Or at least not a criminal who'd ever been caught.

***

When I got home that evening, dinner had already been cooked and most of it had been eaten. A plate of spinach lasagne had been saved for me, and even though vegetarian food had never interested me, this meal was nice. Coral had made it more than a few times and it was an all-round success.

"Congratulations on your jobs, both of you!" Coral clasped her hands together as she beamed so brightly, the sun could have been shining from her face.

I squinted as if she were blinding me and turned back to my food.

"Thanks," Landon answered, giving a mock bow. "It was no big deal. I mean, the interview went so smoothly."

"That's lovely," Walter said sarcastically. "And what about you Phoenix? I'm tired of hearing about Landon and his new café job. Where are you working, exactly?"

"Clothing store," I answered before my next mouthful.

Walter widened his eyes and a teasing grin slid onto his face, "You work in retail now? Really?"

I rolled my eyes at his words, even if they were true.

"I work with the brother of a friend from jail," I said. "He has his own fashion business."

"Fashion business?" that caught Coral's attention, her eyes were practically sparkling.

"Yep," I nodded, taking another bite of pasta.

"Friend from jail?" Giovanni widened his eyes. "Forget the fashion. Phoenix has never spoken about any friends from jail before."

"One friend," I muttered. "It's unimportant."

"Well, where is he now?" Gio looked confused. "Still inside?"

"Dead," I answered.

That quietened everyone, and I continued to eat whilst avoiding all gazes.

"So," Coral cleared her throat lightly, before changing the subject. "What kind of designs does his brother do?"

"Simple stuff," I shrugged a shoulder. "He prints his designs onto t-shirts and hoodies. It's nothing fancy. Anyone could do it."

"Well, he must be successful if he's got his own store," she was impressed. "That's costly."

"Mmm," I murmured in agreement.

"Wouldn't that kind of business do better online?" Gomez asked. "You don't need a physical store for that."

"You could say that about mostly anything in retail," Coral countered.

"There's a dance studio too," I added. "For kids. His friend teaches dance."

"Aww," Coral cooed.

"That's pretty cute," Landon grinned. "Maybe I could take Melody there when she comes to visit next."

"Maybe," I said.

"Maybe in the future, I could do work experience there?" Coral suggested, almost shyly. "Just to see what it's like."

Of course. That's why she was so interested. Her own passions were in fashion and design.

"I'm sure he'd say yes," I said. "But it's nothing major, like I said. Don't get your hopes up."

"I'm sure it's better than you think," she smiled to herself. "You don't have an eye for these things, Phoenix."

I sensed she was teasing, but I still arched my brows.

"I could do anything better than anyone," I answered.

"Yeah right," Walter chuckled darkly.

His laugh was always like that. Deep and dark.

"So, when are we going to get the drinks out?" Gomez asked, leaning across the dining table feigning boredom.

"Drinks?" I frowned at him.

"The celebration," Landon reminded me.

"You weren't kidding about that?" I scoffed quietly.

"Hell no," Gomez shook his head. "This place is so dead. There are like three nightclubs in town and most of them are filled with middle aged people."

"No way!" Gio started laughing.

"I'm not kidding," Gomez said gravely. "I miss London."

"You're too young to get into the club anyway!" Walter pointed out.

"Ever heard of fake IDs?" Gomez rolled his eyes.

Of course. I didn't know why that hadn't crossed my mind earlier. The triplets had probably gotten fake IDs a while ago, not that it bothered me. As long as they didn't go near drugs, then fine.

"I think things will get more interesting when school starts in September," Severn mulled aloud.

"Really, Severn?" Gomez looked at him dryly. "You're so bored that school is what interests you now?"

"There are girls at school," came his response.

"Girls that you can't be bothered to get with anyway," Gomez rolled his eyes.

"Getting with a girl doesn't mean sleeping with her," Severn smirked.

They were both silenced when Landon placed a hefty bottle of Irish whiskey on the dining table.

"Wow," Gomez's eyes glossed over.

I looked at Landon with a frown. That kind of drinking would knock the triplets out.

"In moderation," Landon assured me.

"Beers would have been just fine," I said.

"Who can be bothered to carry twenty cases of beer when you can just carry one huge bottle of whiskey?" Severn was eyeing the bottle up as if it were a lover.

I sighed and looked at Landon.

"Okay," Landon grinned and held his hands up at the youngest ones. "I'm sure you guys have drank spirits before, but don't go over the top."

"It's the summer holiday though," Gomez looked perplexed.

"So?" I snapped at him. "If you overdo it, I'm the one who's going to have to drive you to the hospital to get your stomach pumped."

He grimaced at the idea, and I nodded to myself.

"We won't go over the top," Giovanni looked between his triplets in turn, then he grinned. "Or at least the winner of the game won't."

"What game?" Walter arched a brow at him.

"Dare or dare."

Landon sent him a look, "I think you'll find it's called Truth or – "

"I know what I said," Gio cut him off with a wild grin. "Truth or Dare is for wusses. Dare or dare is what us Simpsons play."

"You're right," Gomez was nodding to himself. "Something to spice up the shit life of this new place."

"I've got you," Gio hooked an arm around Gomez's shoulders. "We're playing Dare or dare, Neighbours edition."

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