There was nothing better in mind to do today that I could think of to waste the afternoon away, so I figured riding along the coast of the beach would be a better adventure than nothing. I zoomed down the smooth pavement bordering the beaches edge in my faded red beach cruiser, clad in just my white bikini top, high waisted ripped jean shorts, and a lavender colored floral cardigan kimono. It was a warm and sunny day out still and despite being smack dab in the middle of summer, the weather was pretty much always up in the 90s in California whether Sumer called for it or not. So down the streets I cruised, an ear bud in one ear while I people watched with the sun on my back.
There was a considerable amount of people along the street, the slight disparity from a typical congested crowd due to the fact that it was just a Wednesday. Which meant more room for me to lazily swerve left and right in great big arcs. It was during one of these arcs, as I hummed along to the song on my playlist, that I would witness the greatest stumble I'd ever seen in my life.
Just ahead of me, a couple of feet away, a girl bounding out of line of an ice cream truck came into my view. She had a tray full of waffle ice cream cones, probably about five, and could've easily hopped over the little curb onto the sidewalk she was nearing with essential ease. Except that she didn't. Instead, and to my flabbergasted horror, she'd misjudged the height right as she bounced off the ground and totally lost her footing. And I mean LOST IT.
Her feet went every which way to keep up with the momentum while she had the tray of ice cream cones thrusted out in front of her to keep from dropping right out of her hands. For a second, I thought she could actually pull it off and recover as she managed to traverse the full length of the sidewalk, but then she bobbed and weaved and eventually dipped down face first off the edge of the walk into the sand. There's about a foot high inclination between the street's wide sidewalk and where the beach begins and the girl had seriously dived right down there, from everybody else's obscurity.
My mouth was agape as I stopped in my tracks, unsure of what I just saw and if I was still in the real world, as everyone passed by without a notice. I scurried towards the edge of the sidewalk where she'd fallen and peered down to see her sprawled flat on her stomach, face down, and the ice cream cones an absolute scattered mess. I rushed off of my bike and hopped down the edge to see if she was ok, a little worried if she was still breathing or not.
"Hey! You alright?" She didn't move at the sound of my voice and just laid there, defeated. I picked her up from her shoulder and under her arm and finally, she tried to get up. "That was a really bad fall. Are you hurt, or anything?"
Her bleach blonde bed of hair, which was dark at the roots, parted from her face as she lifted her head and I realized she was actually pretty cute, amidst all the sand on her face. She winced and groaned as I got her on her feet and huffed as I stood her up straight. I watched her for a second, concerned the fall might've scattered her brain until eventually, she spoke.
"The ice cream..." She uttered dismally.
My lips went up in a tight line as I stared at her with a poker face. What?
"I totally...dropped all of them." The sadness in her voice was serious business.
I flared my nostrils at the belated comment. No shit.
"Er, um," I tried to think of something in response to this unexpected dismay at the state of the ice cream cones. No residue of embarrassment or pain lingered on her face. Just disappointment. She reached for her purse and pulled out her wallet, her expression deflated further at the sight of what was probably the fact that she had no money in there. I cleared my throat, "I could buy you some more if you want..." The sight of her was just too pitiful to ignore.
She gave me a look of surprise, her pale green eyes begging. "Seriously? Are you being serious?" She pleaded.
Even I was doubting myself. Was I really going to do this for some random chick just because I felt bad? I sighed. Yes, yes I was. "...Sure. Why not? We all have our bad days. A couple of cones won't kill me."
She gave me that look like I was the damn messiah.
After visiting the ice cream truck and witnessing her trip again; banging her knee against the side of the vehicle from tripping on seemingly nothing but her own two feet, I suggested I could hitch her a ride on my bike to where ever it was she was going. I knew the ice cream wasn't going to last otherwise if I let her be. She asked me if it was really ok and I insisted - after everything I'd seen - just as long as she didn't drop the tray on my head. I gestured to the wooden rear rack on my cruiser while I swung my tan leg over the bicycle and waited for her. She approached and sat on it sideways; putting an arm around my waist to balance herself. "You good?"
"I'm good." She replied, all giddy again about her new batch of ice cream.
"Cones are good?"
"Cones are totally good."
She directed me towards the beach shore so I rode all the way down the wooden strip laid down in a long zigzag across the sand until she told me to stop. She hopped off and called out to a group of people set up near the water. They waved her over and she quickly turned back around to me as she waved back. "Thanks again. You're, like, the coolest chick I've ever met. I owe you big time. I don't have much right now, but here you go." She rummaged through the small pocket of her tight jean shorts, sticking out her tongue, and eventually extended her hand palms down to me when she pulled it out.
"Oh no, you're fine. You don't need to." I reassured her. She gestured with her chin to take it, leaving me no choice as her resolute doe like eyes stared me down. I looked at her with uncertainty, but in the end, unfolded my arms to let her put it in my hand. I felt something warm slide into the nook of my palm and then she sprinted off; waving back with a toothy grin on her jubilant face. I glanced down at my hand to see a single crinkled piece of gum.
What the heck.
Since then, it seemed almost without fail, I'd see her around. It was the little coincidences that I didn't mind so much. Seeing her here and there, being at the same place at the same time. It only became increasingly bizarre when I realized our encounters were starting to become a regular thing, although it was always only me who saw her in the crowd. Or maybe I wasn't just seeing her more often now but rather realizing her existence in my daily surroundings.
And every time, she was always tripping up or causing a massive scene with her clumsiness. Her feet must've been her worst enemy but it was probably her lack of quick reflexes that owed her the bigger apology.
I'd be walking my dog and catch a glimpse of her bicycling with her friends when all of a sudden she'd wipe out. Or one time when I was buying groceries and saw her a couple of sections over shopping too, doing her own thing. As if on cue, she picked up an orange from the bottom of the slanted pile of mounted oranges and caused a chaotic land slide; tumbling down along with the citrus delights as she tried to catch them.
She was a hot and clumsy mess. Every single time. Without fail. I was starting to think she was developing a reputation here in this city, she had to have been. Or maybe she'd already had a hefty reputation and it was just me that had been oblivious. After all, she was really cheerful and kind of quirky, and every time I saw her she was always with a big group of friends. I couldn't imagine there be no talk about a pretty jolly girl who so happened to be the klutz of the century. Just seeing her would fill me with anxiety but at the same time, I kind of started looking forward to coming across her.
After a couple of weeks, however, I stopped seeing her around. Anywhere I went, she wasn't there, and eventually, I just forgot and went on with my life. That Friday, I went out for lunch with some friends to some burger place across town. The place was always busy and crowded, but the burgers were worth it. I was already digging into my fries at our table, joking up a storm with my friends as we laughed with our mouths full, when I saw her pass by. What a coincidence, I mouthed.
It was the girl, again. See, from one look at her, you'd probably think she was your typical California girl. The type of girl who was really conceited, wild, party crazy, and snooty. I probably would've steered clear of her myself if I hadn't already known the bit about her that I did. She wore a cute nude colored romper with some accentuating accessories and her nails and makeup done up all stylish. I looked on at her curiously, so fascinated by the contrast her looks offered compared to her personality. Even some of my friends eyed her, some with jealousy, others just not being able to help but look at beauty when they saw it.
My eyes wandered and I noticed the several scars and bruises running along her smooth tanned legs and arms and the couple of band aids covering what was probably recent injuries on her youthful skin. I smirked to myself and couldn't help but imagine the trip ups she must've had to get those bad boys.
Nothing looked out of place in regards to her nearby surroundings that she could potentially trip over, and it was kind of a refresher to see her doing normal things without an incident for once. She turned the corner and continued walking ahead, and because of a recent habit I'd developed over our encounters, unconsciously, my eyes followed her to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Just when I was satisfied with her safety, I began to turn away, when suddenly, in the corner of my eye, she accidentally stepped on her loose shoelace and hurled forward.
It was as if everything after that happened in slow motion.
