Chapter One – Meet Cute
Elle and I sat below the Santa Monica pier as Pacific Park goers walked above us. The air around us carried sounds of the arcade games, laughter and screams, the roar of the rollercoaster some distance away. The waves steadily rolled in and covered our bare legs, rinsing off dried sand back into the ocean. The water glistened on the tattoo on my ankle, and I watched as the water separated into droplets and roll back into the ocean. I passed the joint to Elle and fell back to rest on my forearms. I exhaled the smoke into the air as I looked up at the bottom of the pier. Elle dropped the roach and buried it in the sand, and then she joined me on her forearms. "What are you thinking about?" she asked after I've been quiet for longer than she liked. Elle was quite the talker, a great conversationalist. I preferred the quiet, though.
"I've been thinking about immigrating to America," I admitted rather sheepishly.
Elle sat up straight and looked at me with wide eyes. "What?"
I closed my eyes and fell back into the sand, a smirk on my face. I knew it was driving Elle crazy that I wasn't saying anything more about the matter. "When were you planning on telling me?" asked Elle.
I opened my eyes and turned my face to look at Elle. "What are you talking about?" I sat up and put my legs in the lotus position. "I just told you." The fringe on my suede vest tickled my bare thighs, and the Buddha tattoo on my left thigh wrinkled ever so slightly, and it looked like he was expressing a thought.
"Yeah, you just told me but when did you start having such thoughts? That's the point I'm trying to make! You probably thought about this a while ago, but you're not just deciding to tell me!" Elle was exasperated. I looked at her and rolled my eyes, tempted to roll another joint but wanted a beer, too.
"Really, Elle, don't be such a drama queen. Yes, it was a recent thought but I wasn't sure until this past hour. You're my best friend, but you live so far away from me. Our friendship isn't really ideal, though absence does make the heart grow fonder."
Elle stuck her tongue out at me and smiled. "I think it would be great if you moved to America. Promise me you'll live with me!" Elle grasped my hand in her own two hands. I smiled at her.
"You know I don't make promises, Elle. They just lead to disappointment."
"You know what I mean! The rent would be really cheap, I promise!" Elle emphasized her promise and winked at me.
"We'll see what happens; America might not accept me."
Elle's eyes widened, "How could they not? You're the best Canadian around!"
"I don't want to toot my own horn, but I'm alright." I couldn't help but smiling, though.
"True facts," said Elle. "Now, how about getting something from the Coffee Bean?"
I perked up at that, we didn't have a Coffee Bean in Vancouver. Starbucks was good, but completely overrated. The no-name coffee shops were good, too. But the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf was by far the best I've ever had. I stood and brushed sand off my body and shook it out of my hair. "That sounds excellent. I could really use the washroom." Elle snorted. "You Canadians..."
Elle and I were blinded by the sun as we came out from under the pier. I had to dig into my purse for a pair of sunglasses, and once I found them I thrust them onto my face. It felt so much hotter out in the sun than in the shade under the pier, and I could feel myself starting to sweat. The ocean water looked tempting as I watched children being thrown off the shoulders of their parents, screaming and laughing until their sound was muted. I was mildly afraid of the ocean because of something that happened to me when I was a teenager, so I didn't go in as often as I did growing up on Vancouver Island. My parents had practically lived in the sea, and I was their only child so it was natural that I was fish, too. My mom had actually given birth to me via water birth. When the incident happened, I moved to downtown Vancouver with my boyfriend to get away from the water.
I was quiet as Elle jabbered about all of the things we could do once I lived with her. I listened but it all went in one ear and out the other. Elle always had a lot to say; she was adorable that way but it was also an annoying quality I found rather endearing. As I pretended to listen, I watched the faces of people that passed us as we walked along the boardwalk. A lot of people paid no mind to us, and some seemed indifferent to my appearance, while some acted as if I were going to steal their precious souvenirs.
I'm sure people thought I looked trashy, that's how it seemed to be when others looked at people like me. I remember being compared to a lot of girls in high school. They used tanning beds and they dressed in clothes that barely covered any skin, and they wore gobs of makeup. That was considered beautiful and sexy in my school, when I was the trashy girl with tattoos and ratty hair and little to no makeup. I didn't pretend to understand their insanity.