Page 1 of Always Be an Us

Chapter One

Emma

I take a deep breath, staring at my harried face in the mirror of the bathroom of the Tiki Bar.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and despite the late afternoon chill, a thin sheen of sweat slicks my hair to the back of my neck.

I’m rattled.

My best friend Tate Moon sometimes hosts weekly yoga sessions in the parking lot of the Presbyterian church on Main Street here in Laketown. She dragged me to a session once, and I try to remember some of the words she uses that are supposed to calm your stress.

"I am one with the universe," I say to my reflection, then frown.That doesn’t help me in my present situation.

How about, "I honor my body and its abilities."

My reflection stares back at me, and a 'Really?' expression crawls onto my features. That doesn't help either.

Because while I do honor my body and everything, that's not going to stop me from murdering burger guy at table fifteen.

I've wanted to murder him for the last hour or so.

And if I thought I could get away with it, I would gladly dishonor my body with the act.

I pull out my phone from the back pocket of my shorts and Google, ‘cool yoga phrases that help not kill people.

Then I scroll down the list until I find one that fits my situation.

"I can overcome any challenge," I recite, then take another deep breath staring into the mirror again.

"I can overcome any challenge." I say it again, and again, till it sinks in. I also draw in breath through my nostrils and release it through my lips, the way Tate taught me to.

Surprisingly, my heart rate slows and the biting irritation in my brain settles. The murderous urge starts to ease.

"I can overcome any challenge," I tell myself for the final time. "Even the customers sent from hell to test my patience."

There’s a knock on the door. "Honey? Are you gonna be in there much longer? I just took my Miralax and want to get things moving. "

I recognize the voice of one of our regulars, an elderly woman lovingly referred to as Mrs. Peach because of her short, round appearance. Her voice brings a smile to my lips.

"Yeah. I’m done." I turn on the tap and wash my hands, before opening the door again.

She stands hunched over her cane, peering at me carefully. "You doing okay, darling?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Stressed out of my mind but okay."

She nods. "Well then scooch on out. I need to do my business."

"All yours." I sidestep her as she enters, and my eyes fall on table fifteen and burger guy again. His back is turned to the lake, as if he couldn't care less about the incredible view of endless blue, flowing easily onto the grassy shore.

Instead, he's staring off at a wall, leaning back in his seat, with a phone pressed to his ears. His other hand is wrapped around his Manhattan, routinely swishing the contents.

The frown on his face tells me he's not enjoying the phone call very much.

Then again, he doesn’t look like a man who enjoys anything much.

As I walk through the Tiki Bar absently, I continue stressing about him.

I knew he was some kind of trouble when he walked in here with that James Dean dark hair to match the dark beard around his lips and dark eyes that see right through you. He’s wearing a creamy button-down shirt along with casual slacks.

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