The fake girlfriend deal. ||BEING HEAVILY EDITED||

26~Unlovable (edited)

Riven-

   Bianca and Hayes both had their therapy sessions today. I woke around six am, just in time to catch the sun rising over the ocean. I glance over and see Yuna still very much asleep and decide to head out for the morning, get some fresh air, grab some breakfast. I roll out of the bed and slide my prosthetic sleeve on, then the prosthetic over that. There's no ache or burn this time and I silently thank God for having a pain free morning. That's been fairly rare lately. 

   Walking in a prosthetic over sand is definitely a learning curve. This week had been my first time to the beach since my accident. When we got in the ocean a few days ago, I'd used crutches because I didn't want the ocean water to rust or ruin my leg. I'm sure there's rules about prosthetics and water, or maybe they make waterproof legs- in fact they're bound to because I've seen a few amputee surfers- either way, I hadn't had much time to research it and I was definitely lost on what was a good idea and what wasn't. 

   I get just close enough for my toes to touch the water when the waves come up, and sit down on a tiny sand mound, watching the water spanning out ahead of me. A few surfers are already practicing this morning, there's a couple fishermen on the dock to my right, and a lady is walking her dog down the shoreline. So early, and the world is already coming to life again. 

 My mind ponders over what to put in my letter to Marc, what I should tell him. There's so much to say, in fact I have over a million things to tell him, so much so that it overwhelms my brain, and I can't get a single thing out. There's too much, it's not even worth trying. 

      I needed to get back to the gym, back to training. In two months, my class had a long ass fitness test and if I made anything less than perfect marks, I could kiss my dreams of being an agent goodbye. They wouldn't allow for wiggle room, they already thought I couldn't do it, and I had enough problems working against me, I couldn't slack now. 

   After thirty minutes of overthinking until the back of my head ached, I got back to my feet and brushed the sand off of my shorts. It's only a ten-minute walk downtown, so I don't bother grabbing my keys and driving. I enjoy the walk as the air slowly heats up around me, the late spring air growing thick and muggy, a specific sensation that you'd only feel at the beach this time of year.  There're a few kids walking with their mother down the sidewalk, and one points to my leg, grinning and asking his mom if I'm a superhero. She's clearly mortified as her face morphs into pure shock, like she doesn't know what to say, like my own existence is making her uncomfortable. 

    Instead of getting pissy about her face, I squat down and wave at the kid. "I'm not a hero unfortunately, but thanks for thinking I look like one."

  The little boy has curly blonde hair that looks as if he just stuck a wad of gum in it, and his round hazel eyes are slightly too big for his face, his ears a little too big for his head. He's entirely too cute and looks at me with a gapped tooth grin. "You look so cool!!" 

  "Well thanks little man." I grin at him, "Are you having a good day?" His mother was still gawking at me.

   "I'm so sorry for h-"

  "You don't need to apologize for your son being curious, he's entirely innocent." I held a hand up and slowly stand back up all the way. "Kids don't mean anything bad by it, not like adults do."

   She stammers to form some kind of reply or excuse, but her daughter catches sight of a puppy and drags both her mom and brother down the sidewalk. Kids. Gotta love em.

            I return to the house with muffins and waffles, and enough coffee to possibly wreck an entire army. It scares me how much we drink at times, alcohol and coffee alike.