Forcing Gravity
Authors: Monica Alexander
Forcing Gravity
By Monica Alexander
ISBN:
978
-
1
-
3013
-
3262
-
5
Copyright 2012 by Monica Alexander
Cover image: Copyright 2012 by Monica Alexander
This story is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places
, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or personals, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.
The information in this book is distributed as an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.
This
ebook
is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This
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may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
A dog in a stroller.
A dog in a
freakin
’ stroller!
Unbelievable.
I sighed.
Welcome to L.A.
But
I guess
, for me,
since I was starting college at USC in a month,
it was welcome home.
Kind of a scary thought.
L.A. had really only been home to me for the first three years of my life, but I’d been
going back there each summer as part of my parents’ custody arrangement
, and it wasn’t one of my favorite places on the planet.
And
I think
I’d
actually
tuned out all of the things I’d
come to
hate about
it
when I
decided
to go to college at USC
. But when I’d go
tten accepted, I’d been back
home
in
Florida for
six months
, so I’d forgotten
all
the little things that usually got to me by the end of each summer.
Add that to the fact
my dad had been over-the-top excited
that I’d gotten in
to his alma matter
and
had
started rehashing the good old days when he’d gone to school there, and I
sort of got excited along with him and decided to go
.
But when I’d made that decision, I hadn’t exactly thought about the fact that USC was in L.A.
And I kind of hate
d
L.A.
Okay, so yeah,
it was kind of a fun town, and the wea
ther didn’t suck, and my mother and sister lived there, but
L.A. in general was just such a scene. And I hated scenes. I’d lived outside of Miami for most of my life,
so
I was used to the flamboyant
characters
who
frequented the streets of South Beach, but L.A. was a whole different beast. Whenever I’d visited, I always felt
like I was on-stage at all times
and usually felt completely out of place
. It was
exhausting after a while.
And I’d tuned out that feeling of exhaustion until I landed in the land
of plastic surgery and spray tans and ridiculous m
odes of transportations for pet
s
, but the reminders
hit me square in t
he face as I walked through LAX taking in my surroundings. Since it was an airport, there were plenty of normal people, but the subtle reminders of where I
was were there.
Stifling a giggle at a woman tottering toward her gate in five inch platform heels and wearing a fury vest in the middle of August,
I fished in my backpack for
the key my mother had sent me the day before. I finally found it
buried in
the bottom of the front pocket under copious amounts of gum wrappers
, loose change and about nine lip glosses
.
Yanking the note written in her scrawling
handwriting from the key chain
, I unfolded it to read it once more.
Welcome to L.A., sweetheart
! I can’t wait to see you. Dinner is at eight. There are new dresses in your closet – any one of them will be just perfect. Enjoy your present. It’s parked on Level 3, Aisle B. Drive safe. See you soon! Love, Mom
I sighed again, fearful I’d be doing it a lot more in the near future. My mother meant well, but she literally had no concept of what it meant to be a good mother. She was too selfish for that. She had
every delusion that sending me the
key to a brand new BMW and having her assistant park it at the airport was just as acceptable as actually coming to pick me up
herself
.
Now don’t get me wrong, I was excited to have a
new
car, but come on – your daughter arrives in a new city, where granted, she was born and spent every summer since she was three
after
her dad got smart and moved her to
Florida
after he divorced her crazy-ass mother,
but a foreign city nonetheless,
and you don’t even have the decency to meet her at the airport!
What is that?!
I guess it could be worse. I could be cabbing it out to her ginormous house
out
in t
he
Pacific
Palisades
.
At least I’d be driv
ing in style.
Sighing one more time and vowing to try not to do it again, I made my way out into the California sunshine
, dragging my one rolling suitcase behind me and trying to
keep my surfboard balanced under my arm
. Everything else
I was planning to bring to college
had been shipped to my mom’s house the
week before and would be waiting for me when I arrived
.
But there were certain things I couldn’t live without, and my board was one of them.
I had one month until school started, and I’d be staying with my mom until then. Since
I was moving to L.A.
for college, I’d
been able to talk her into letting me
stay home in Ft. Lauder
dale for June and July, instead of coming for the whole summer. She
’d
agreed, but only after I convinced her that she’d see me plenty during the school year since I’d be living so close by
.
In reality I knew we probably wouldn’t get together that much. S
he was busy with her own
life, but she
didn’t think of that
, and I used it to my advantage.
Getting to the parking garage was slow-going, and I knew I shouldn’t have flown with my board, but I couldn’t stomach not having it with me. I surfed
almost
every day, so shipping it wasn’t an option. Grateful the elevator was empty when I got in, because I was seriously in danger of
taking someone out
if I wasn’t careful, I set my board down on its end and leaned back against the glass wall. As the elevator rose up to the third floor,
I
scooped my
blond
curls up on top of my head in a messy bun and
tried to think of the positives
things
about living in L.A.
I
’d
had to l
eave all my friends behind. Oh
wait, that was a negative. Think positive, Logan
, come on
. There has to be something good about this move. Yeah, okay so
being close to the Pacific Ocean was a definite plus – the surfing would be amazing. Then there was my little half-sister Skylar. She was kind of a spoiled brat
at times
, but
we’d gotten close over the past few years as
we’d bonded over
how crazy our mom was most of the time
. We talked on the phone regularly
, and living in L.A., I knew I’d get to
spend more time with her
, which was cool.
And then there was USC. I’d been hearing about the university my entire life, and
I don’t think I’d
ever seen
my dad
as proud as he was the day I showed him my acceptance letter.
I’d originally planned to
go to
t
he University of Florida, but my d
ad really wanted me to go to USC
, so I was going. And
I
was
pretty psyched about my pending collegiate experience. I just needed to g
et through the next thirty days
and I’d be golden
.
The elevator stopped
on the third floor, and I lifted my board back under my arm
before gripping the handle of my suitcase again. I began my slow journey
,
balancing my load and looking for Aisle B. When I found it, I started to walk, hoping there wouldn’t be another red BMW convertible in the aisle that I would mistakenly try to open.
That could be
potentially
embarrassing.
Then I looked up and smiled, and all my fear and loathing and dread simply faded away.
I
actually
spotted him before I spotted the car and just about dropped my load to rush forward and hug him. There, leaning against my new car with his tanned arms folded across his broad
chest, sun-bleached hair falling to his chin and blue eyes sparkling, was my best friend, Ethan Lewis, the best good thing about my move to L.A. A wide grin spread across my face as I dropped everything, no longer able to hold back, and ran to him.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I shriek
ed
, jumping into his arms.
I buried my head in his neck, inhaling his comforting scent
, a mix of surf wax and fresh air and something uniquely Ethan that
always
reminded me of my childhood
.
