Liam
I can’t help but think what a lucky son of a bitch Cameron is. I can’t help my jealousy, but it just makes me want to work harder. One day, I’ll own a truck just like that.
I take one last look at it before I finish my tasks for the day and retire for the night.
I get up bright and early since I know it’ll be a long day. I do my normal routine to prep for a run, which includes changing into sweats, throwing a ratty T-shirt on, and doing my stretches. I bend at the waist to touch my toes, lean from side to side to work my back out, and then start lunging up and down the stairs that lead to my apartment a few times to loosen my muscles and warm myself up. It requires just enough effort for me to get ready, but not enough to put me out for my actual run. The last thing I need is to end up cramping while running down the street. I’d look like a flailing fish grabbing at my leg and falling over while moaning in pain.
Once done, I head out the front door. I realize I haven’t run in any other direction than my normal route, so I decide to change it up. I won’t be able to run right on the water, but I want to see what other options there are. Plus, with the distance I want to cover today, I’m going to need to pick a different way unless I run around five times in a circle.
I pop open my AirPod case and put them in before I turn on my playlist. “ Work ” by Rhianna is playing and I give my limbs a shake in one last attempt at keeping the cramps away. The first half a mile is always the worst despite how well I warm up.
I’m three miles in and panting hard, but I’ve seen more in the last thirty minutes than I have in the last two months of living here. There are so many new shops I want to check out. The more I can support small businesses around here, the better.
I get to the end of the street and a delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and donuts hits me. I’m a sucker for some donuts and coffee, so I take that route instead. I jog around and just as quickly as the smell appeared, it’s gone.
“What the fuck?” I mumble to myself. Shrugging my shoulders, I set out to run the block again. I round the corner and hit the straightaway, only to round another corner, and then another. I feel like I’m in some NASCAR race at this point with all the left turns I’m making. “Where the fuck is this place?” I catch the whiff of yummy goodness again and pick up the pace to where I think it’s coming from. Once again, I lose track of the scent and I’m getting pissed. All I want is a fucking donut and a hot cup of joe after burning all these calories because balance.
I take off back in the direction I came from and the smell hits me again. I stop dead in my tracks and observe my surroundings to determine where this elusive smell is coming from. There’s a shoe repair store, a surf shop with rentals in the front, and a place called The Ugly Mug . There’s only one potential here, so I open the door and the bell above it jingles to notify whoever is working of my arrival.
I immediately notice the cozy vibe of the shop. There are big plush chairs that don’t match and random mugs. Everywhere. And these mugs are UGLY. There are boob cups, random companies, cups that spiral, and I think I see a penis cup that you sip out of the tip? I bark out a laugh and spin in circles to admire everything around me.
Old pictures of cats litter the walls, all dressed in weird-looking suits and shit. And plants. So many fucking plants. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s enough oxygen here to flush out all the smog in California. I take a deep breath to try to prove my point, but I’m so distracted by every little thing right now I can’t tell the difference.
I can confidently say I’ve never been anywhere like this.
Before I can get too lost in my surroundings, my grumbling stomach reminds me why I’m here. Donuts and coffee . I peek around a shelving unit to look behind the counter. A woman with long wavy dirty-blond hair stands with her back to me. She has a hot, perky ass, but I’m not tryin’ to be a perv and stare too long. “Uh, hi,” I call out. She doesn’t turn around and I slowly continue walking toward the direction of the counter. With all the cat faces staring back at me, I feel like I’m in some homey, haunted mansion. What the fuck is going on here? These donuts better be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. And I’m a foodie, so I’ve had lots of donuts throughout the years. I take an AirPod out in case she’s just really quiet and my music just so happens to be overpowering her voice.
“Hello?” I call out a little louder. She’s making coffee, her hips bobbing back and forth from whatever music is playing in her ear, drawing my attention. She really has no rhythm and I find myself wanting to grab onto her luscious hips to bob along. I wonder what she would do if I did. Or what song she’s listening to that makes her so committed to dancing. I zone out while watching her dance to the beat of her own drum without a care in the fucking world.