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“He’s a skateboarder.”
“X-games aren’t really my thing,” Cornell said as they rounded the corner. “You aren’t too bad on those. I guess yoga helps your balance.” His sneaker got caught in an uneven sidewalk crack as he stepped onto the street to cross it, and he cleared his throat.
Ali smiled as she skated ahead across the road. “Something you should consider.”
Cornell watched as she waited for him eagerly at the start of the long street that led to the cul-de-sac. “Hill,” he told her.
“Slight slope.”
“Ali—”
But before Cornell could grab her hand again, Ali pushed off from the top of the street. “See?” she said, her voice light, surprised as the angle of the street did all the work for her. “Faith, Cornell,” she called back, holding her arms out, letting out a small squeal when she really took off. “Everything will be alright.”
The waning light of the winter day caught the lengths of Ali’s hair in her ponytail flowing behind her. They sparkled gold. Cornell began to jog, grabbing his phone and recording a few seconds of her flight, just as she looked over her shoulder at him. Good memory, he thought. Even though he didn’t like it, Ali did. Her laughs grew louder, still playful, nearly childlike, as she went down the hill. Cornell was lost in that sound, in the view of her body moving effortlessly, unchained, unburdened.
Totally free.
Until Ali neared the end of the street, sloping down into the cul-de-sac and tried to turn too quickly, which sent her flying right over the low barricade.
Cornell screamed and ran as fast as he could, jumping over the low metal barricade, his sneakers landing in the mud from last night’s rain. “Ali!” She lay a few yards away from the edge, one hand up by the side of her head, one folded across her chest, staring up at the sky. “Ali,” Cornell called out again, sinking to his knees beside her.
Ali tilted her head toward him, her eyes meeting Cornell’s as he held his breath, and she laughed.
It was a bundle of breathy gasps at first until the noise fully bubbled from her throat. Ali’s nose crinkled the way he loved, her body convulsing as the laughter fought its escape from deep in her gut, filling the air with a sound Cornell had never been more grateful to hear for so many reasons.
He sat back on his knees, sinking into the mud and watched her, in awe.
“What happened?” Ali asked a minute later, trying to catch her breath. Her face lit up, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. Kicking him accidentally with her Rollerblade, she pushed up onto her elbows, yanking a twig from her hair with a giggle.
Cornell moved forward, planting a hand on either side of her. Ali plopped back down, sprinkling him with specks of mud as he hovered over her, letting out a heavy sigh—full of relief, love, and hope.
Wiping dirt from her cheek with the back of his hand, he lowered himself more so they shared the same breath—so he could remember exactly what the world tasted like the moment she came back to him. Cornell didn’t care if it might be fleeting. He didn’t care if one step forward today meant three back tomorrow. They would hold on to the good memories because they were too good. She was covered in dirt, sinking in mud, but never did Ali look more beautiful. And never did Cornell want to sink with her more than he did at that moment.
The kind of shit they write love stories about,he thought.
Cornell’s smile matched Ali’s, and he pressed his nose to hers. “I think you just became a butterfly.”
* * *
“You better not have a kid behind you,” Cornell told Julian, who appeared at his office door. “You’re maxed out on babysitting gigs.”
Julian laughed. “No, not today. You got a second though?”
Cornell nodded, and Julian slung his backpack off his shoulders, sitting on the couch, patting a snoozing Mowgli. “What’s up?”
“I got another offer today,” Julian said. “West Georgia”
“I’m aware.” Cornell leaned back in his desk chair. “They texted me before they called you. Thought you might have a bigger smile on your face.”
Julian shrugged. “I have four other Division-II offers.”
“I also know that.”
Sighing, Julian placed his elbows on his bouncing knees. “They’re all out of state.”
“What’s happening in your head, Julian?”
“My kid is in Texas.” He looked up from the ground at Cornell. “Not in Georgia.”
