Unconditional

Chapter 1

        Amy's golden hair falls loosely over her shoulder. From each end, all she sees is the seemingly endless water of Biscayne Bay. Deep, blue water, with few souls because it is too cold for even the bravest of bodies to swim today. She looks at her watch. When was the last time I showered...?

        Today is a weekday, Amy knows that at the gym a few blocks over, Sarah is working today ad she never asks for a membership card, so Amy could easy nod and make her way through the gym to the showers, then quickly leave without anyone noticing her. She stood up, knocking a few brave grains of sand that embedded themselves into her skin from sitting so long. There are a few people lying flat, tanning. They aren't bothered by the cool weather, they can't be locals.

        Attempting to comb her fingers through her knotted, greasy hair, Amy walks toward the boardwalk that separates the beach from the usually busy city. A few people stare. "Ay, pobrecita," they'd say. That poor girl. Finally, Amy grasps the ability to tie her hair back, and manages to put it into a messy-looking bun. She is already wearing tights underneath he jeans, her way to stay warm on the cooler Miami nights.

        She takes the duffel bag that was given to her by a nice stranger and grabs a long sleeved shirt to wear over her tee. Her shoes are starting to wear out and make noise with every step she takes. She ignores the stares and unwanted sympathy from strangers.

        The streets are decorated with Christmas lights, candy canes, and snowmen hanging from lamp posts. At night, Amy watches them, while lit, to lul herself to sleep. Sometimes she imagines that they are are all a piece of one story and compiles them in her mind. Sometimes her imagination abandons her, and her reality creeps into her minds at night-haunter her with dreams about her past.

        Arriving at the gym, Amy puts on a smile and pulls out her outdated iPod touch. She can't remember the last time it was actually working. Digging in her pocket, she finds her headphones-which she isn't sure work either- and plugs them into her ear, creating the image that she is too distracted and busy to be bothered with scanning her gym ID.

        She glances over at the reception desk. Shit. Sarah isn't there. Instead, there was a boy, tall with messy chestnut hair, working at the desk. Maybe he'll still let me by. Without hesitation, Amy walks past the reception desk. She hears the boy mumble something, but ignores it and keeps walking.

        "Hey." The boy yells at her.

        Amy tells herself that her headphones are too loud and not to even show any body language that she can hear him.

        "Slow down," he continues, "I need to scan you." He grabs her shoulder.

        "Ow!" Amy fakes. "What the hell are you doing?!"

        "Huh?" The boy is confused. "I hardly touched you."

        "You pinched me. Where is your manager?"

        The boys face turns red. "Keep it down, alright?" He walks closer to her and directs her toward a corner where no one can see them. "Ma'am, I'm sorry. No need to call my manager. Just let me scan your card."

        "I refuse to let you scan me."

        "Then I can refuse service," he says Amy studied him. The name Jay is messily written on his name tag. His jaw is perfectly carved into his face, which has soft features. He narrows his green eyes and continues. "You don't have a card, do you?"

        Amy stays silent, like a disobedient child awaiting their punishment. She's lost control over the situation. "I just left it at home. Can't you just let me go without it today?"