Ripped - Cassia Leo Page 0,8
understand.
I hope she’ll understand.
Three
My best friend Yuri Takahashi’s house in Carolina Beach is about two blocks from our old beach house. Since it’s only been a few weeks since we moved, I decide to drive by and see if the new owners are settled in. As I drive down Carolina Beach Avenue, I see there are no cars parked in the driveway at the back of the house. The front of the house faces the ocean, so I can’t see it from the street, but I get a strong feeling there wouldn’t be anyone there anyway. They just moved in and already they’re gone, maybe having dinner at a restaurant or visiting family. If I were them, I’d be here every day, out on those waves or sitting on the front porch, soaking in the sun, breathing in the salty air, appreciating this house for what it is: a diamond on the warm North Carolina sand.
When I get to Yuri’s house, he and his girlfriend Lena—who looks like a female version of Yuri—are fighting, as usual, over whose turn it is to take their eight-year-old Siberian husky, Dioji, for a walk. Yuri’s five-foot-nine body is splayed across the sofa while Lena stands over him, dangling the dog’s leash above his face.
“I don’t care if you smoked a hundred joints, you’re taking this dog for a walk. I have to go to work.”
She drops the leash onto Yuri’s chest and he sits bolt upright as she marches toward me. I’m standing near the front door, chancing glances at both of them as I pretend to be interested in the pictures on the wall, black frames displaying a montage of photos from when Yuri and Lena went to Japan last year to visit Yuri’s grandparents. Lena thought they were finally going to get married in Japan, like she always dreamed of, but Yuri changed his mind at the last minute, claiming he wanted to get married at home on a North Carolina beach instead.
I don’t know what his problem is. Yuri and Lena are going on twelve years together. With all the arguing they’ve been doing lately, I think Yuri needs to man-up or Lena’s going to kick his ass to the curb.
“Dude! Take him with you to the beach,” Yuri insists, holding out the leash to me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I reply. “I don’t have time to walk your dog and pick up his shit. I’ve got a fucking competition to train for.”
“Dude,” he says, putting his hands together. “I’m so stoned. I ate two fucking cannabis candy bars. That cannabis oil is no joke.”
Lena narrows her eyes at him, then she snatches the leash out of his hands and clips it onto the dog’s collar without saying a word. Then she snatches her beach bag off the hat stand where it hangs.
“Thank you, baby,” Yuri says, reaching for her waist, but she pushes him away.
“Let’s go, Adam,” she says as she opens the door to their two-bedroom bungalow, letting in a soft summer breeze that holds the tiniest promise of brininess even though we’re three blocks from the ocean.
“See you later, bro,” I say, nodding at Yuri.
His eyebrows scrunch together over his bloodshot eyes. “Later, bro.”
Lena is already out the fence and in front of the neighbor’s house by the time I close the front door behind me. I catch up to her on the corner and we stand there while Dioji pees on a stop sign.
“He was supposed to close the shop today,” she says, her voice bitter as she runs her hand through her dark-brown hair. “Now I’m going to have to do it again. This is the third day in a row he’s been too stoned to do anything. I don’t know if I’m more worried or pissed.”
“He’s probably just feeling a little down about not qualifying this year. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon,” I assure her as we head back to get in my truck.
“He’d better get over it soon, or… I don’t know. I’m just anxious. I’ll call Frida and tell her to close the shop today. It will be fine.” She glances at me nervously, as if she’s said too much. “Enough about my stupid problems. How are you feeling after Tahiti? Did Edie loosen you up? How’s the hip? I watched the replays about a thousand times and it didn’t look like it was affecting you out there.”
“It’s not so bad,” I say, opening the passenger door for her and