“Miguel.”
“Thanks, Miguel.” I scurried away, embarrassed, rushing to find relief. The garage hallway blurred around me as my long legs took me to the door at the end. Eyes were always watching; someone would always have an opinion. If I answered any of my mom’s calls she would tell me the exact same thing.
For once I just wanted to feel unburdened.
I pushed the door open, the loose hinges smacking the door against the back wall. The warm breeze caressed my face, the roar of the ocean louder than the unbearable thoughts in my head. Even while spiraling I was smart enough to take off my leather sneakers and socksI wiggled my toes, which felt very absurd and kind of embarrassing, but wasn’t that something people did?
The well-trodden path caused a small channel that sat lower than the sand mound either side, and I was thankful I hadn’t had to navigate far to find it.. Tall grass blades swayed in the breeze as I got acclimated to the path. A golden retriever and its owner passed me; they must’ve known me because they deliberately made eye contact and said hello. I focused on the crashing of the waves, letting it lead me to an unfamiliar destination.
The ocean was quickly in view, and I rubbed my deflated chest feeling the lightness returning.
Strangers roamed with pets, alone, or other people. It felt like the perfect place to run across the sand and into someone’s arms. Which I only knew from the rom-com movies my dad used to make me watch with him. I focused on all of my senses, admiring the beauty of the sun setting over the ocean and sat down for a bit.
The sun had practically set when I decided to head back to my townhome. This had been the most emotional thinking I’d done in years, and I made a list in my notes app on how I was going to conquer every inconvenient obstacle in my life.
In no particular order, I must:
As much as I would love option four, that would require getting my mom fired, or her failing miserably at her job—neither were possible in any universe. I wasn’t raised to be a whiny baby, but I really just wanted to behome.
I looked for Miguel but found another doorman in his place. I checked my phone, skimming messages that were either new or the many I was avoiding. On a burning instinct, I called Daya.
“It took you long enough, New Orleans; I’m literally pulling up to your apartment now.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Have you not been on your phone? Seen what the blogs are saying?”
“I don’t think anyone still has a blog these days…”
“Oh shut up, you know what I mean. Now let me up please.” I looked across the lobby to see my pissed best friend. “She’s with me!” I told this shift’s doorman who was too wrapped up in a book to care much.
Daya did a visual scan of my body, working her concerned eyes from my platinum scalp to the socks on my feet.
“Did you run out in a hurry? Did she threaten you?!” The crazy was out to play in Daya’s eyes, her irises blown wide as if she would’ve had to physically intervene even when I had a good six inches on her.
“Daya! What’s going on, and don’t leave out the context!”
“Those annoying sports gossipers are getting a ‘firsthand report’ that things are super hostile between you and Lee.”
“Hostile as in?”
“That you guys got in a screaming match after the press conference and she stormed out saying, and I quote, ‘I’m gonna fuck her up.’”
“Why’d you come here?”
“Because if anything was going down, obviously I would’ve joined you.”
“Daya…”
“You know I hyperfixated on karate long enough I got a black belt.”
“Yes, I was there,” I reminded my angry friend. One thing Daya would do was develop a niche side hobby that made for one of the hardest rounds of two truths and a lie. “Come with me to see just how cold and unfeeling Lee can be.”
“This isn’t good to have out the day before you guys meet the staff, you know…”
“And it’s the exact opposite of what Tashi Blade said she wanted.” The legends she walked with were traditional and rigid. Used to years of being looked down upon and defying the oddswhen everyone thought they couldn’t. They’d raised women like me to strive to make it to the top and keep paving the way. Women like Tashi, Olivia, and Rashida evolved from women like me, Nola, and Danny.
I could already feel the levity dissipate from my body the second we stepped onto the elevator and traveled up to my floor.
