We're Not Related Anymore...

Rushed Plans

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If possible, I feel jet-lagged by the time I arrive in L.A. Because I want to make a good impression on Maddie, I decide not to ambush her at work while looking and smelling like I just got off a plane. I find a decently-priced hotel and book a room. 

After I get cleaned up, I look up a doctor I met in my second year at college. I'd met him at a conference and he'd given me his details after I spoke to him after his talk. Because I hate lying, I shoot him an email asking if he's in town. I figure a. It doesn't hurt to set something up when it comes to my education and career, and b. At least I'll have something to distract myself with if Maddie decides she wants nothing to do with me. 

I glance at the clock, seeing it's still somewhat early in the evening. I check my messages. I received a text from the garage responding to my message from earlier. The guy who owns the place tells me I can take off as many days as I want but it's unpaid. I have one message from my dad telling me Chip said I went home in a drunken stupor, and one from Josh that says, 'Where the hell are you? Your mom says you just dipped to L.A. Does this have something to do with my sister???'

I ignore his message and instead click on the empty chat I have with Maddie. Because I'm already here, I figure what's the harm in actually texting her?

Me: Are you working today?

I look at my message and press send before I think about deleting it. I then put my phone down far away, hoping that if it's out of sight, I won't keep staring at it until I get a reply. But it's no use. I can't concentrate on anything until she responds. 

I hear my phone vibrate and look at the message. It's just another one from my dad and my heart falls. 

Sperm Donor: When I said go get your girl, I didn't mean literally. Have you ever heard of the long game?

Me: Long game? You embezzled money so don't come at me with talk about patience. 

Sperm Donor: Touché. At least tell me you reached out before you jumped on a plane.

Me: I bought the ticket when I was drunk. But you were the one who took me to the bar so this is your fault. 

Sperm Donor: Damn. Maddie and I get blamed for everything...

Me: Remember when I said you couldn't talk about her? That includes texting. 

He sends me the middle finger emoji and I'm so surprised he knows how to use emojis that I'm not even offended by it. 

Impatience settles in as I realize I'm just waiting around in my hotel room. I pull up my earlier search of the restaurant she works at and study the directions. Funnily enough, it's not that far a walk from here. 

Before I head out again, I glance at myself in the mirror. The black T-shirt and dark jeans aren't much but I know Maddie used to like me in all black so, just maybe, I can encourage a Pavlovian response from her. 

Los Angeles is a beautiful city. As I walk to the restaurant, I take my time to admire the place in the fading sunlight. I've never seen palm trees before, and the heat here is very dry. There seem to be storefronts on every corner. The streets and sidewalks are busy with people impatient to get to where they need to be. It's also louder than I'm used to. Where Alabama can sometimes be peaceful in its long stretches of open land, this place seems like chaos incarnate. 

I just about get hit by a car as I cross the road. The drivers here are impatient and curse and honk at me even though they're in the wrong. I shake my head, stepping up my pace as Alessandro's lines up in my vision.