Since Forever

Chapter 1

The cool breeze off the ocean spins around me, sticking to the layer of sweat glistening across my forehead. The sun that has just peeked through the thin coating of fog hovering the surface of the water creates a streaky trail of glistening rays.

I love the mornings along the water, the crash of waves uninterrupted by splashes of people, the few early surfers peacefully awaiting the swell. There's peace in the mornings here in Vista Point, California. A quiet, but not silence.

I don't like the silence. It's within the silence that the noise is the loudest.

I push forward, feeling the sand beneath my strides, the added lull of padded ground straining against my muscles, pushing me further, harder.

Running has become an escape for me over the years. It started as added training for soccer, a way to stay in shape even on the off season. But there's something so freeing about the way the air flies across your skin, the burn of fatigue always scratching the surface, and the power of will fighting to push you past the brink of surrender.

I glance at my watch, acknowledging my fourth mile roll over, checking my pace and pushing forward. When I hit the stairs, I take a deep breath, not breaking stride before I begin a rhythm, one quick step at a time, the added burn to my calves and thighs fires the rush of adrenaline across my core.

I hit the final step, pushing hard on the ground and flying across the pavement to catch the steady rise of the sun. It's breathtaking from up here, a view I don't think I could ever tire from. I take it in, breathing the subtle scents of the salty sea air.

With one last glance of the ocean, I turn the corner and make my way down the street, passing the various shops, most of which are still closed. There's one spot that always opens early, though, the door propped gently open.

I push it enough to step inside, taking in the arrangement of floral scents, the vibrancy of various flowers creates a serene sense of happiness.

I reach for the sunflowers, grabbing a few loose daisies and sliding them between to find the perfect opening. I let them fill the space and stand out among the brighter, more popular, flower. I reach for a bundle of baby's breath next, sprinkling the whimsical addition among the yellow and white.

I'm still perfecting the display when a voice falls across the small flower shop, "I love watching you bring those bouquets to life."

I'm smiling, my eyes still on the flowers. "I'm not as good as her, she will always have the best."

"Your mom had a gift," Piper's gentle voice comes closer, her wild red curls falling past her shoulders.

Piper was my mom's best friend. When my mom passed, Piper made sure to be the female presence in my life I didn't know I'd need. But puberty has a way of making it awkward being in a house full of boys. The arrival of my monthly gift is only one prime example of such awkwardness. Piper was there, helping me with all the things my dad had no clue beyond what Google could provide him.

Her and my mom bonded over craft. Either flowers or the piano, they had a way with the arts, something they both seemed to lose themselves in. It's why a piano sits in the corner, a display of all the things that built their friendship. My mom would spend her days arranging flowers, playing for them and insisting that it helped them thrive and brought out their vibrancy.

She was a free spirit, a kind soul that didn't deserve the early end she was handed.

"She loved this place," I agree, reaching for the blue ribbon behind the counter.

The warm, gentle smile across Piper's face rests softly around me, her quiet nod a respectful agreement. She takes a small breath, stepping a tiny bit closer. "So, are you ready for today?"