Phoenix Simpson
Chapter 5
It was late at night and the household was fed and full.
All of us, except Eli, were in the living room, watching some movie that the triplets had been adamant about. Coral had tried to get Eli to come out of his room, but she hadn't been successful. It was one of those nights when it was clear he wouldn't be changing his mind, so we all left him alone.
The lights were off, and the room was cast in the eerie white and blue glow from the TV, occasionally bathing our faces a hellish red colour whenever a car, house or a building blew up.
"What even is this film?" I gave Gomez a dry look.
I liked action movies. In fact, they were the only kind of movies I watched. But this was ridiculous. Completely unrealistic and over the top with the explosions and theatrics. Gomez grinned back at me from the beanbag he was slouched in on the carpet.
"Action comedy, Phoenix. Haven't you heard of those before?" his teeth reflected the light of the TV.
"Those are two genres that should never mix," I muttered.
"Nah, this is good shit," Landon agreed with Gomez with a laugh, sitting on the carpet with his legs tucked up. He usually chose to sit on the floor, he liked it there for some reason. Occasionally he'd wrap his arms around his bent knees like he was doing now, resembling a very big child.
I was in my armchair. Coral and Walter had one whole sofa to themselves, Walter spread across the length of it, and Coral slotted in his arms. She rested her back against his chest, her head laying on his shoulder and Walter's arms wrapped around her waist. The cuddling was off putting, but at least it was dark in the room.
I turned my attention back to the TV as the music grew louder, signifying something dramatic about to happen. The boys had their eyes glued to the screen, Giovanni and Severn in the other sofa, with Severn asleep in the corner of it. Just as the climax was about to be reached, the movie stopped playing and the adverts came on, earning a groan from everyone.
"What?" Severn woke up, looking around blearily.
"Why do you always miss the good parts?" Walter smirked over at him in amusement.
"Well, I think I've missed more than half the movie," Severn answered as he rubbed his hair and then stretched. "I remember the sex scene though."
"Of course you do," Walter rolled his eyes.
"Wait, Severn," Gio turned to grin at him. "Are you telling me the sex scene got you so excited, you fell asleep?"
Severn's face split into a sleepy smile as his brother teased him.
"No, that's not what I said," he shrugged it off. "It takes a lot more than some semi-darkness, sex scene for my narcolepsy to act up."
Severn's condition, narcolepsy, meant that his sleeping pattern was abnormal, leading to him getting tired during the day sometimes, or being up all night. Usually both. His narcolepsy also meant that if his emotions got the better of him too much, it could trigger an 'attack' and he'd simply fall asleep. Pain, fear, elation. Anything. It didn't happen often, but sometimes it did. Once when he got his first tattoo. His triplets had seen it coming and timed how long it had taken for Severn to fall asleep. Severn had always had the lowest tolerance for pain out of us all.
"How about actual sex?" that, of course, gained Landon's interest. "Does your narcolepsy affect you then? Wait, are you guys still virgins?"
"What's the rush?" Coral was the one who spoke.
"Didn't say there was one," Landon said.
"You used the word 'still'," Walter added.
"Well, they did turn seventeen a couple of weeks ago," Landon shrugged.
The triplets shared looks, as if silently debating whether they should spill a secret, or not.
"You don't have to answer him if you don't want to," Walter said to them.
"Er, yes they do," Landon held a finger up. "Why are you all going shy now? You're never shy."
"We're not shy," Gomez scoffed. "I, personally, am just wondering if Phoenix is still a virgin. How can he get girls if he never speaks to them?"
I met his blue eyes in the gloom, looking at him flatly as his cheeky smile grew. I didn't have to answer that. I had my ways and they all knew it.
"Don't deflect," Walter spotted the move too. "Answer the question."
"Really?" Landon looked at Walter incredulously. "You just said – "
"I know what I just said, but they're acting suspicious now," Walter regarded the three of them in turn through narrowed eyes. "Start talking."
Gio, Gomez and Severn shared another look and then they all shrugged, as if deciding there was no use holding back anymore.
"No," Gomez answered.
"No," Gio said the same.
"No, what?" Landon frowned.
"No, I'm not a virgin."
"That sounds more like I expected," Landon nodded, smiling proudly at them.
We turned to Severn who sighed exaggeratively, "Yes."
"Really?" Landon arched his brows.
"He talks the talk, but he doesn't walk the walk," Gomez teased him.
"Sex sounds good in theory, but in reality, it's overrated," Severn rolled his eyes. "Girls expect you to have a lot of stamina, I mean, come on. Me? Stamina?"
Landon's mouth fell open and his brows pulled together, offended by his words.
"We know," Gomez agreed with Landon, grinning widely. "We tried to tell him otherwise."
"Our goal is to get him laid before the end of summer," Gio smirked, nudging Severn with his elbow. "He doesn't know what he's missing."
"Only two weeks left," Landon reminded them.
"Yep," Severn brushed it aside lazily.
"You do realise you can have sex in positions where you don't have to do all the work?" Landon eyed Severn.
"Of course, I know," Severn scoffed. "I do know what sex looks like."
"Okay fine," Landon murmured, not sure how to convert Severn to his way of thinking.
"Well," Gio started with what was going to be a cheeky suggestion, judging by his smile. "How about we ask the sexually active couple for some tips?"
It took us a second longer to realise what he was getting at, and Walter gently ushered Coral off him so he could slowly stand up. Childish excitement was lit in Gomez and Gio's eyes as they got up and raced out of the room. Walter tried to grab for Gomez as he scrambled past, but he missed him by a hair's breadth. Instead, Walter turned on Severn, who was still sitting down.
"I'm not running, I wasn't part of this!" Severn cried, ducking into a ball on the sofa.
Walter rained a few 'light' blows on him anyway, which made me crack a smile, before he went off to find the other two triplets. Coral was laughing as she shook her head to herself. It was the same thing again, and again.
"Never gets old," Landon chuckled.
"They literally ask for it every time," Coral agreed.
"Again, I wasn't a part of this," Severn groaned as he uncurled himself from the corner of the sofa.
***
It was another day of job searching. The usual thing. The only thing that was different, and made the ordeal a little more bearable, was that Landon had an interview at a local café. He'd dressed in a pair of black trousers and a white shirt. The last time I saw him dressed like that was at Diego Santiago's funeral. And before that, was when Landon was still in school.
When Landon returned around midday, I was out in the back garden. It wasn't anywhere near as big as the other house, but it was enough to call mine. Most of it was grass, the part nearest to the back of the house was tiled. I was sitting on a garden chair that we'd bought. We'd gotten the four chairs, but opted out on the table and large, shady umbrella that it came with. Summer would be over soon, and the shed wasn't big enough to house too many bulky things.
Landon slid open the back door and popped his head out. His shirt was already undone to halfway down his chest.
"How did it go?" I asked him, my laptop on my thigh.
"I don't really know," he grinned, as if it was funny. "They said they'd call me to let me know if I've got the job."
"I hope you didn't undo your shirt like that whilst you were there," I muttered dryly.
"No," Landon chuckled. "Well, maybe the top couple of buttons."
"Landon," I stared at him.
"Relax," he laughed some more. "The manager was a woman, and she was definitely into it."
"You can't flirt your way into a job," I scoffed.
"Yes, I really can. And I have to," Landon said. "I've got a criminal record and shoddy school grades."
I sighed out. He didn't have to remind me.
"Well, if you think I'm flirting my way into a job, then you're wrong," I said.
"I never said that," Landon had a playful glimmer in his brown eyes. "I don't think you're any good at flirting."
He was probably right about that, not that I'd admit it aloud.
"Well, I'm gonna head inside now, get something to eat," Landon said. "Want anything?"
"No thanks."
"Cool," he replied as he disappeared back into the house.
I shut my laptop, feeling a headache coming on. Staring at a screen all the time was my new form of torture. I wasn't into the social type jobs that Landon was applying for. I didn't want to talk to customers or smile at anyone. I didn't want to be part of a bloody team. But there was little that was independent. And the few jobs which were, consisted of driving all night making deliveries from warehouses to stores. I was no delivery boy anymore. Those days were over.
When our parents left us at the house, I was fifteen and needed to find income fast. I joined a local gang and did their dirty work. But not for long. By the time I was eighteen, I walked away. It wasn't easy. The gang was 'blood in, blood out' and the second beating was twice as long as the initiation. Carlos had been part of that gang too. We'd tried to work together for a while after we left the gang, but I couldn't tolerate that. Compromising and sharing the leadership role was a no go. So we ended that and started our own separate, rival gangs. We both recruited young men to make our deliveries, using the skills we'd learnt from being in that role ourselves. Both of us and our families were shielded for the most part. The delivery boys were the ones who took the rap whenever there were any arrests. And it worked. I liked being on top. I liked making so much money. So there was no way I was going all the way back to the bottom of the chain by driving around and doing heavy lifting for pocket change just to line the pockets of some bigshot. Even if it was legal (and paid much less).
I looked out across the empty garden space. The grass was more brown than green, baked by the sun and surprising lack of rain this last month. My mind drifted back to jail, my brows automatically inching together. The blaring sound of the alarm, more like a siren, that woke us up every morning at 7am. The feel of the rough, worn cotton of my uniform against my skin. The final clunk of the bars being shut across our cells and locking us in for the night. If I closed my eyes and thought about it hard enough, I could still taste the lukewarm, watery coffee they gave us and the peculiar aftertaste that I could never put my finger on. If I pushed myself to remember things I'd closed off, I could hear the sound that the shank made as it was plunged into my body. The pain was only registered when it was pulled down my side, slicing me open like a piece of fruit. Except it was so much messier, bloodier. And there was shouting. My voice. And Eddie's. Eddie's groans as they rained down the kicks and punches. The muffled sounds of just the kicks and punches after Eddie had stopped groaning.
I opened my eyes with a start. Walter was standing in front of me, a frown on his face. The scar from Ario Santiago was prominent on his cheek.
"Are you okay?" he asked me.
"Yes," I answered without thinking, on autopilot.
"You were about to drop this off your lap," Walter said, raising my shut laptop that was now in his hand.
"Thanks," I muttered, taking it back.
A broken laptop may have saved me from having to job search for the next couple of days, but it wouldn't help me once I had to dig into the savings and buy a new one. Or pay for repairs. It was hard to spend money when I knew nothing was coming in to replenish the pot.
"How was boxing?" I asked Walter, noticing he was wearing his shorts and a damp t-shirt.
"It was good," he replied. "Just training still, but it helps."
He didn't describe what exactly the boxing helped with, but I could take a good guess. For a guy like Walter, letting off steam in a controlled environment was probably the best thing that had happened to him. And even better, was that he was good at it. Good at fighting. He had trouble playing by the rules sometimes, but he nearly always won. The only time he'd lost so far was against that Greek thug back in London. Apart from that, any other time Walter hadn't won, it was because he'd been disqualified.
I stood up and cracked the bones in my spine.
"I think I'll do the same," I said.
"Boxing?" Walter arched a brow.
"No, just...something to blow off some energy," I replied, heading inside the house.
It would help calm my racing mind. I hated being at home all the time, and these days it felt endless. I stuck with my running on most mornings, but I still felt restless. My mind could never keep still, and as a consequence, my body was tense almost all the time.
We didn't have a home gym anymore. There was no space for it all since we had no basement in the new house. I still had some weights, but there was no more treadmill (for the rainy days), rowing machine, or leg press. So, running it was.