“This. Isn’t. Starbucks.” The bright red lipstick she’s wearing cracks as she does her best to keep up the tough girl frown.
“Yeah, yeah I know. You’re ‘Intelligentsia Coffee’, I get it.” Storming past the wooden booths, the ultra-hip skaters that just strolled in with their blue mohawks and the array of dogs leashed to poles outside, I walk three blocks down and find myself staring at the Pacific Ocean. Fleeing one seaside town to end up in another wasn’t really my plan, but somehow I’m in Venice Beach.
Walking south, I take in the tattoo parlors, bike shops and smoke stores that advertise water pipes. Everyone knows that’s just a fancy word for a bong, they’d probably get more business if they had a neon sign stating, ‘we sell top of the line bongs here, handmade!’
I’ve never been to Venice Beach before, and for a city right on the ocean, it’s nothing like my small town Santa Barbara. I could venture to say a day in this town would make a person more cultured than they ever wanted to be.
A small café is selling coffee to go and for a buck. Score! I take my Styrofoam cup and keep walking. The first few sips do the trick, and my headache begins to fade as I continue to take in my surroundings.
Shouting brings my attention ahead and my feet stop moving.
Is that what I think it is?
Slowly taking one step at a time, I move closer to the ginormous obstacle course that’s built right on the sand. My eyes can’t focus on anything but the bright colors in front of me, the massive size and the crowd that’s lined up outside.
“Hey lady watch where you’re going!” A bike speeds by and I’m immune to the fact he almost ran me over.
I’m here.
The set of American Ninja Warrior, exactly where Damian and I were supposed to be today.
Damian. My eyes fill with tears and my heart constricts. He doesn’t trust me to choose him; he doesn’t trust me at all.
Sitting down on the bench outside the stage, I can see the employees setting up for the show. From this vantage point I can almost view the entire set, be able to watch the contestants as they try to tackle their events. My eyes lock onto the bar that I know is the Salmon Ladder and my heart rate incrementally climbs a notch.
For hours I sit and watch, all the while, my mind is formulating a plan. It’s not until I watch Kacy Catanzaro complete the Salmon Ladder, when I jump up and shout in triumph, taking whatever strength she just used to complete that task and filtering it through my own system, that I finally know what I have to do.
“You don’t smile anymore.”
“What?” I’m at Emily’s bedside, playing a tough round of hangman when she drops that tidbit on me. She’s back at the hospital for one of her last chemo treatments.
“You used to always smile. Now you look sad.”
I give her a half-hearted attempt at a real grin, but fail miserably and go for the truth. “I am sad.”
“Girl problems?”
“What do you know about girl problems, Emily?”
“You smiled!”
I laugh a little. “I did?”
She fist bumps the air. “Yes, you did!”
Two weeks have gone by. Two fucking weeks and I haven’t heard a single word from the woman who crashed into my soul. Hours feel like days, days feel like weeks and each week has felt like the longest year of my life.
I’ve moved into her place. Sleeping in her big white bed, drinking out of her coffee cups and watching all of her recorded shows. Her cell never rings. Goes directly to voice mail each time I call. And texts? Forget it, they show up as undelivered.
Her friends are worried, and I’m losing my mind. I spend all my time at the track or with Emily, only walking into my place to grab some clothes. I’ve even succumbed to showering in her bathroom and using all her girly soap to get as much of her as I can.
My heart is broken, and I’m a complete mess. But I need to get my shit together around this little girl. She has enough to deal with to not have to worry about me.
“I’ll be okay, Sweet Pea. You worry about your health, and I’ll do my best to smile more. Deal?”
“Deal. What happened?”
Scratching the side of my head, I’m not sure how to answer this question. “We got mad at each other and