Page 280 of Something Rad
We stare at each other for a few more seconds, brown meeting gray, chocolate meeting storms, a smile meeting a frown, the past meeting the future, the end meeting the beginning.
And then she turns and walks away.
And, thankfully, she doesn’t even look back once.
1996
Los Angeles, California
epilogue
SARA
“Any plans this weekend?” the taxi driver asks me.
I peel my eyes away from my window, turning my head to catch his gaze in the rear view mirror. “Oh, nothing much,” I say. “Just have a work event to attend.”
The old man lets out a whistle, raising his gray eyebrows at me as he joins the line of cars to drop me off. “You’re far too young to be working on the weekends, young lady. You better make some time to enjoy yourself.”
“I’ll try my best,” I tell him, a smile coming to my face. “What about you? What are you up to this weekend?”
“A whole lot of nothing. I can’t wait,” he says.
I chuckle as we approach the front of the line.
“Actually, I just remembered. My wife and I are going to the movies tomorrow night.”
“Oh? Well, that should be fun,” I say.
“I’m not sure how I could’ve forgotten.” The driver shakes his head. “Seeing this movie is all my wife has talked about for weeks. She read the book it’s based on last year and it hasn’t left her night stand since. I’ve never seen her laugh and cry so much in the same few days.” He purses his lips, his brows scrunching as he parks the car against the curb. “I wish I could remember what it was called.”
I roll my lips into my mouth. “It sounds like quite the story.”
“Story!That’s it,” he declares, waving a finger in the air. “Something like that.”
We both open our doors, stepping out of the taxi and heading around to the trunk. The driver hands me my suitcase and I thank him, telling him to enjoy his weekend and his movie with his wife before I turn away and head through the doors of LAX.
I slide my headphones up from around my neck and onto my ears as I make my way through the airport terminal. I’m extra early for my flight, as always, but I check the status board just in case. When I confirm that I have about an hour before my flight takes off, I decide to check out some of the shops and grab a snack to kill some time.
I head for my favorite one-stop-shop convenience store in the terminal, purposely entering through the side entrance so I can avoid the book section, at least at first. A coy smile plays on my face as I try not to turn my head in the direction of that wall, instead making a beeline for the drink coolers. I grab a Coke and, as I’m in the process of picking up a bag of salt and vinegar chips, the Cranberries CD I’m listening to comes to an end.
I reach into the tote bag on my shoulder for my Discman, popping the CD out. I start to dig around in my bag for another album to listen to when I remember that I left my CD case sitting on my desk. I blow out a breath, deciding I’ll just restart my Cranberries one, but then a small CD section catches my eye across the store.
With time to burn, I decide to walk over to it, seeing if they have anything in stock that I may want to listen to. My eyes scan over the several rows of CDs, not seeing much that I’m interested in or don’t already have at home. Just as I’m about to turn away, a flash of blue catches my eye, making my heart stutter in my chest. I blink at the CD, my mouth twitching into a grin. Before I even know what I’m doing, it’s in my hands and I’m headed for the register.
I set it on the counter, reaching in my tote bag for my wallet.
“JourneyFrontiers, huh? That’s a good one,” the woman behind the counter says, making me look up at her. She appears to just be a few years older than me, bright highlights in her hair and soft brown lipstick on her lips.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Yeah, it is.”
“Really takes me back to high school,” she sighs, entering the CD into the register.
“I know exactly what you mean,” I agree, pressing my lips together as I hand her a twenty dollar bill.
She takes it from me, turning away to make change, and I find my eyes trailing to the side. My head pulls back as I register the large display right to the side of the check-out counter all full of the same book. I reflexively reach out, picking one up and holding it in my hands as I look over the cover. A smile tilts my lips as I flip the book over, reading the synopsis.
“Have you read that one?” the cashier asks me.
