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Chris and the woman both stand up. “Alright, brother, I’ll talk to you then. Let me know when you get the work situation figured out.”
We high-five each other. “I will. Nice to meet you.” I nod to the woman on my way to the front door.
The night air is cool on my skin as I make my way to my car. After I get in and start the engine, I roll down the windows. The stars glow in the sky, and there aren’t any clouds to obscure their beauty. I take a drive outside the city, and the moon lights up the road ahead like a beacon. I hear crickets chirping around me as I coast past fields filled with wildflowers blooming in shades of purple, pink, red, orange, yellow, blue, and white—a perfect rainbow set against a background of green grasses that sway softly in the breeze.
The scent of freshly cut hay wafts through my car’s open windows and reminds me of summers spent biking these same roads when I was younger. It feels like time slows, and I drive on autopilot down the dark stretch of highway, listening to classic rock playing quietly from my speakers.
17
Chapter Seventeen
Alana
“Oh my God. It’s about damn time. I’ve called you thirty times,” Ricole’s clear morning-person voice chirps in my ear.
She’s always been this way. When we would have sleepovers, she would wake me up by saying it was ten in the morning. I would get up and head to the kitchen for a drink of water, only to see the oven clock blinking a bright and early seven o’clock. It’s remained one of our biggest differences throughout our fifteen-year friendship.
“Why on God’s green earth are you calling me before eight, you psycho? You know it’s my day off,” I grumble back.
As I talk, I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom. I drank two glasses of wine after work last night, and I always force myself to chug a bottle of water and take two ibuprofen before I go to bed. I never wake up with a wine hangover, but I always have to piss like a racehorse.
“Well, of course. I know it’s your day off. I was calling to tell you I was coming over. But that was an hour ago. Now I’m only like forty-five minutes away. So, get up, get dressed, and smile because we are going out for brunch,” she exclaims. I smile, secretly excited she’s surprising me. I can’t let her know that, though. I’m pretending to be annoyed.
“And what if I already have plans?” I joke. She knows damn well I don’t, or she’d already know about them.
“HA, right. You only have two friends, and Ashley is in Florida visiting her cousins. You’re stuck with me. I’ll be there soon,” she laughs as she hangs up the phone.
After I finish brushing my teeth, I turn the shower on. I need to wait ten minutes before I get in to let the water warm up because of the shitty water heater in my shitty apartment.
I’m really glad I only signed a six-month lease. Since I’ve been working at the bar, I’ve already saved up close to a thousand dollars. I won’t have to subject myself to cold showers for much longer. I walk into my bedroom and lay out some cute running shorts, a racerback tank top, clean underwear, and a clean sports bra.
To maintain the purple in my hair, I wash it quickly with the cold water still coming out of the shower head. I step back out of the spray and apply conditioner as the water goes from frigid to lukewarm and lather myself with my body wash. I’m shaving when the water reaches a decent temperature. It works out so I get to enjoy the hot water as I rinse the suds off.
I look down at my body and smile. I used to be so insecure about the stretch marks I got on my breasts, inner thighs, and butt as I was going through puberty. I’m so glad I grew to love them. They’ve faded from the dark purple of when they first appeared to thin silver lines. I also used to hate my bigger hips and love handles, but they’ve grown on me, too. Body positivity is incredibly important, and sometimes I mentally make a note of all the things I like about myself when I’m in the shower. As I go through the list, I let the hot water ease some of the tension I’m carrying in my shoulders.
I breathe out and say to myself, “Today is going to be a great day.”
The Bluetooth speaker in my kitchen blasts old school hip hop, and my hands are elbow deep in dirty dishes when the doorbell rings. I towel dry my hands and walk to the living room to let Ricole in.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I say as I wrap her in a hug.
“Same, sis. With you in Indy and Ashley in Florida, I’ve been lonely. Enough of the sentimental shit. I’m starving. Where are we going?” Direct and to the point. Typical Ricole.
“There are a few brunch places downtown with bottomless mimosas. The weather is supposed to be nice today. We can do that, then go for a walk on the canal?” I suggest.
Ricole’s green eyes light up when she hears me mention champagne and orange juice. “Count me in. Are you ready?”
“Yeah. you’re driving. Greta isn’t doing so hot,” I grumble.
The apartment door clicks closed behind us, and we jump into Ricole’s SUV and head toward downtown.
* * *
People roller skate and bike past us as we walk down the canal a little tipsy from our mimosas and vodka-spiked lemonades. The algae create a green hue in the water, and there are massive goldfish swimming under the surface. The tall buildings that line the path are gorgeous, though it isn’t the New York City skyline. There’s art painted underneath the bridges that we pass under. I look out at the water and smile at the couple paddle boarding past us. The paddle boats are teal green with a striped canopy over the seating area. Seeing them makes me a touch hopeful that I’ll have someone to paddle a boat with one day.
“I love walking out here.” Ricole interrupts my perusal of the cute couple. I look over at her and take in the sundress she has on. It’s a pale pink and makes her eyes pop.
“I do, too,” I agree. “There’s always so much going in. It’s easy to relax and people watch.”
