“I want to call her and ask her to spend the rest of our mornings together, but Darren is being a buzz kill.”
“Yeah, man, that sounds like a terrible idea.” In the background on his end there’s various crowd sounds and screaming kids. “How long ago did you last see her?”
“About an hour.” A slow painful hour.
There’s a yell on his side of the line. Then he repeats the story louder, to whom I am assuming is the crowd of people. There’s a collective shout of ‘No!’ with a healthy mix of male and female voices.
“There’s your answer,” Lukas says. “Look, I’m super distracted right now, and I want to talk about this, but it needs to be when I can focus. Ok? Don’t do anything stupid.”
The phone line goes dead and I exhale, “He’s useless anyway.”
“Give me your phone.” Darren puts out his hand.
“No, I need it.”
“You can play Bubble Gum Pop Princess later, once you can be trusted to make good choices. Right now, you’re sex-stoned and not thinking clearly.”
I push the hair out of my face when the wind blows it down over my forehead. “Twelve years. Every night for twelve years I’ve gone to bed thinking about her. I’ve spent countless hours imagining what my life would be like with her by my side. Every red carpet, every award show, any time I have to…PEOPLE! I wished she was holding my hand. And she’s finally back.”
“I get it man, I do.” Darren pats me on the shoulder as I walk down the next street. No, I don’t think he does. But that’s fine.
I push open the door of the shop I’d been aiming for and walk through the lobby to the employee next to a display case. “Hi, I’d like to see your ring selection please.”
“What!” Darren hisses and yanks on my arm, “We’re leaving right now.”
But I’m already pulling the black card out of my wallet. He slaps it out of my hand, and it falls with a clunk. The employee in a suit with slicked back hair blinks at us for a few seconds.
“I think the gentleman is capable of making decisions himself,” the employee says and I point to him, and my eyebrows shoot up as if to say ‘see?’.
“He works on commission.” Darren picks up my credit card. “It’s been like what, twelve hours since you reconnected with her?”
The employee glances down at the card, then at my clothes and finally at my face. It’s like I can see him scrolling through all the different facts he’s read online and heard whispers from other upscale retail workers. His expression changes when he recognizes me. He frowns and takes a step as the glimmer of a massive commission vanishes from his mind.
“Sir, given the present situation I think it would be wildly irresponsible for me to sell you a ring. Can I show you our necklace or tennis bracelet selections?”
Darren grabs the back of my hood, choking me and yanks me out of the store where, once again, I’m blinded by the light. “If everything you are saying is true, I’m not letting you fuck this up because you have zero impulse control at the moment.” He shoves his finger in my face, “We’re going to your trainer right now and you aren’t going to say another word until we get there.”
I found Kinsley, and she became this incredibly funny and compassionate person named Alana. The money I’ve spent searching for her, the time she’s lived rent-free in my mind and it all happened so randomly. She’s the other end of my red string. Why doesn’t he understand?
We walk the next few blocks in silence until we get to Micisha's studio. He greets us with a smile. Black sleeveless tee shirt, hair already slicked back from sweat, strong jawline and decent tats but mine are better.
“Hey -Grae, what’s up?”
“I found Pen Girl.” The words burst out of my mouth, and Micisha jumps and punches me in the arm. Then he hugs me.
“Fuck yeah, that’s amazing man.”
“See? That’s the appropriate reaction.” I glare at Darren, but he rolls his eyes at me.
“I just stopped Romeo from buying an engagement ring.”
Micisha pushes himself off me, all joy replaced by horror. “Um, that’s a big swing. Maybe too big.”
Both of these guys hate love. Fuck them both.
“Assholes.” I cross my arms and pout. Darren directs his attention to Micisha.
“He needs to burn off energy, one session.” Then he does a whole appraisal of my body again. “Maybe two.” My trainer looks at me.