How It Rolls

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Authors: Lila Felix

BOOK: How It Rolls
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How it Rolls

A Love and Skate Novel

 

 

Lila Felix

 

 

 

 

Copyright @Lila Felix 2013

This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights: you are not allowed to give or sell this book to anyone else.

Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

 

Cover Art by: Georgia Cates

 

To the bloggers.
  The ones who work tirelessly and without pay for the love of books, authors and readers everywhere. Your passion speaks volumes. From the bottom of my heart, I wouldn’t be here without y’all and there aren’t enough words to express my appreciation.  Here are a few of my faves, but in no way does it include all who have supported me.  Thank you.

 

Mandy (MandyIreadIndie), Heather (Into the Night Reviews), Amanda (Globug and Hootie Need A Book), Mary (Booknerds Across America), Maggie (Alternative Kyptonite), Britt (Britt Reads Indie), Tee (DiaryofABookAddict) and so many more. 

 

To my husband and kids who I love without end.

And to my
bestie, Turtle: I heart you to the moon and back. 

To Rachel, Georgia, and Annie, your support will never be forgotten.

 

 

 

Here I am

There you are

Just inches away

But still too far
Look in my eyes

You'll see the reflection of you

In me, On me, my eyes

I have nothing left to prove
-The Reflection Of You, Bear In Heaven

Prologue

Falcon

             
Rice sweeper was the lamest job ever.  Mom made a huge spectacle of giving me the broom and nearly yelled a hand-flaring soliloquy about our responsibility to God’s creatures.  Then she went on and on about how the birds eat the rice and then it blows up in their stomach and ‘poof’, dead bird.  You gotta love her.

             
Owen and Nellie were long gone on their honeymoon.  Finally, my brother came to his senses and realized what a jerk he had been.  And Nellie?  I loved that girl like she was my own sister.  In my book, Owen couldn’t have married a better girl.  Maddox was inside bussing tables and helping Dad clear the dining area.  And I was here, outside, with a broom, on freakin’ rice duty. 

             
And talking to yourself while sweeping up rice?  Yeah, I am so bad ass.

             
I finished with rice duty and helped Mom clean up the kitchen and pack up the leftovers.  I also needed to get in the office and pay the bills for the month.  That was my contribution in the family business.  I did the accounting.  Again, I was such a bad ass. It wasn’t exactly a job with a lot of rewards but I was good at it and it kept everything running.  I sat down at the desk and ran my palms up the length of my Mohawk.  I trimmed it down for the wedding and feeling it so short still weirded me out. 

             
I could hear Maddox telling his date goodbye and then made some other noises I didn’t want to hear.  I was the only one without a date at the wedding today.  I had planned to take Kate, but she broke it off with me a couple of weeks ago.  She said I was too serious.  She said I acted like an old man. She said that one day I would find a girl that needed a guy like me to be her rock.  I agreed with most of it, because she was spot freakin’ on.  I didn’t like to party.  I didn’t enjoy painting my face and cheering like a rabid baboon at football games.  I liked my family.  I liked spending actual quality time getting to know a girl.  Apparently, I liked sitting here, hunched over my desk like Ebenezer Scrooge crunching numbers and beating myself up about who she wanted me to be. 

             
But I couldn’t do anything about it.  I was pathetic. A 30 year old man in a 16 year old body, wearing a suit.  Stellar.

Chapter 1

Four Years Later

             
Falcon

 

             
Talking on the phone with Nellie was like talking to Alice from the Wonderland, flighty and whimsical.  One day I was going to give her a petit-four and see if she shrunk so Owen could put her in his pocket. 

 

              “You’re gonna hate me.  And then you’re gonna kill me,” Nellie said over the phone.

             
“Come on Hellie.  I could never hate you and if I killed you, my mom would kill me.  And then there would be a line of ladies weeping and mourning over their loss.”

             
She laughed over the phone and I had to pull the phone away from my ear.  My sister-in-law was hella loud. 

             
“Oh my stars Falcon, you’re right.  What was I thinking? We must think of the welfare of all the single women—not. Ok, so are you game for one more job?”

             
“For you?” I really didn’t want to take on any more work, but for Nellie, I would do just about anything.

             
“Yeah, well, me and the team.”  Her voice rose at the end of that statement, an indication that she felt bad about asking.

             
“You want me to manage the team’s money?”  I didn’t realize it was that big of an issue.

             
“Yeah, we’ve got more team members and we’re thinking of making our own league instead of just one team.  So there will be fees and then there’re t shirt sales, signed posters and you know I hate the suit crap. No offense.”

             
“Hmmm, ok, for you, I will. And I’m going to ignore the suit comment lady.” I was the suit to which she referred.  I was an accounting major at Tulane with a minor in business administration.  Which was funny considering my torso and arms were completely covered with tattoos and I still had my Mohawk.  Nellie called it edgy.  I called it ‘Here I am. If you don’t like it, I have a special finger gesture just for you.’ 

             
“Lunch?” She asked.

             
“Yeah, noon at the Union?” 

             
“Ok, be there or be…wait, you already are square.” She caused herself to giggle.

             
“Ha ha ha. Bye dork.” I hung up the phone and went into my Econ class making sure to turn down the volume on the ringer. Dr. Glusman was notorious for taking students’ phones if they rang during a lecture.  The classroom was built as a theatre but classes were held here.  I assumed they probably meant for large classes to meet here but instead this class was only about thirty students on a good day.  Today was not a good day.  There were maybe a dozen in attendance and Dr. Glusman paid meticulous attention.  You couldn’t be a skipper on his watch.  Plus, he loved to test on lectures only.  Screw the books, your grade depended on listening to his nasaly voice.  Plus, he looked just like Bones from Star Trek.  You had to watch to see if he said ‘green blooded hobgoblin.’

             
He cleared his throat to get attention from the class while his slide show appeared on the screen.  This week’s series of lectures was about public economics—welfare, taxation, social programs, etc.  I took diligent notes but personally I thought that if everyone would just help each other, there would be no need for those programs.  But thinking in Dr. Glusman’s class was frowned upon.  You listen, you take notes, you study, get a good grade.  That, I could do.

             
Class ended and we all had to go to the front and sign the attendance roster.  He watched us like a hawk while I signed my name

             
Hawk watches Falcon sign his name? You’ve lost it, man.

             
I picked up my backpack and headed towards central campus, to the Union.  I walked up the pebbled steps and grabbed a tray, not knowing what to get.

             
“Falcon!” I heard and saw her hair immediately.  One thing about Nellie, you’d never lose her.

             
She did a couple of hand motions towards a tray in front of her.  I put my tray back and headed to the table.  I sat down across from her and did a ‘turn around’ motion with my finger.  She had changed her hair and when she turned the top half was pink and the bottom half was purple.  She had it up in some kind of bun thing so both colors could be seen.

             
“So, what do you think?”  She asked me this every time she did something to her hair and it was my job as her brother/friend to come up with a quirky response.  It was our thing.

             
“I’m wondering where the Holograms and the Misfits are.  That’s what.”

             
She glowed at that response.  We were both 1980’s TV fanatics and she knew what I was talking about.  I could tell.

             
“Falcon Black did you just make a Jem and the Holograms reference?”

             
“I did. It was a girl cartoon, but damn those Misfits were hot and truly, truly, truly outrageous.”  She clapped and as if we didn’t ordinarily warrant extra attention from the other tables, we had it now.

             
I stood and bowed to her and then to the rest of the room while she giggled at me.  “I’m so glad I bought your lunch.  You deserve it for that one.”

             
“So where’s Owen?” I asked even though I could see my brother towering behind her, waiting for his moment.

             
She checked her watch and then shrugged.  “He should be here any minute.”

             
He bent down at her ear level and whispered, “I’m here.” She almost jumped across the table.

             
“Good grief Owen. Stop doing that crap.  And you,” she pointed to me, “stop helping him.”

             
We both laughed at her and she soon joined in.  I finished my meal and let them finish their meals together while I went to my afternoon class and then back to the restaurant to work. 

             
My second class of the day was easy.  It was American Literature and Nellie knew all of the books like the back of her own hand.  She helped me when I needed it and I loved her for it.

             
I got to the restaurant about three o’clock.  I liked to get my work done before the dining room got busy.  I couldn’t stand trying to work over the clanging of plates and the banging of pots.  I already had payroll done for the week so I paid out the restaurant’s bills for the food deliveries and finalized the numbers for the day.  I took the money and zipped it all up in a leather bag and ran through the bank and deposited it before going home. 

             
I lived in a tiny apartment about a half mile from Cindi’s Indie, Nellie’s bookstore and her and Owen’s apartment upstairs from the store.  I opened the creaky wooden door and put my bag on the tiny counter of the kitchenette.  I lived sparsely and simply.  By the window was a double bed, a futon couch thing on the other side of the room and a flat screen on the wall.  It was all I needed.  When Nellie and my mom first came over they called it ‘Bachelor Pitiful.’  But I could care less, anyway, who in the Hell was I going to impress?

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