Fish Eyes

11

Lawrence's cousin drove a golden Toyota Camry. It seemed decently dated, but anyone that knew anything about cars knew that Toyotas lasted lifetimes. At least, according to Lawrence.

He seemed pretty into cars, so I wondered why he never drove his own.

We continued our game of 21 questions throughout the short drive into the city from my house. When I asked why he hadn't gotten his own car, he gave some vague response about his money being needed elsewhere.

He stopped and parked outside of some ugly ass mural. Stepping out, I immediately called out how ugly it was. "What in the world is this supposed to mean?"

He cocked his head to the side at it. "Integration?" he tried.

The mural depicted a picture of a black family moving into a white neighborhood, with the children holding sports balls. I snorted. "I guess man."

"Definitely more poetic ways to depict that, but not everyone can be a poet."

"I bet the artist got paid a shit ton for this, too," I grimaced.

"Sure did," he chuckled. "But that's not why we're here."

He walked forwards and past the parking lot, fiddling with his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Paying for parking. But you can come on," he motioned with his free hand for me to follow him.

It felt like we walked for blocks and blocks in the heat until finally slowing down.  I found that our grand destination was... a parking deck?

"I'm confused," I huffed out. 

"Not for long. Follow me."

He walked past rows and rows of cars before stopping at an elevator.

"It smells like mildew in here," I commented. 

"You complain a lot, you know that?"

"So you hate me," I half-joked.

"I'm not going to glorify that with a response," he responded.

"The roof is closed to cars but you can get in on foot through here," he motioned to a narrow tunnel.

"I'm beginning to rethink this scholarship."

"That makes two of us," he laughed.

We finally got to the top and my breath flew from my lungs. I hadn't realized how high we'd gone, but we were definitely high up. We could see the entire city from this spot, on all sides. We stood in the middle of the parking deck, which was adorned in tire marks from people clearly drag racing up there. The yellow paint seemed fairly fresh, and the whole thing was a scene in and of itself. I had a moment of feeling like I was in some coming-of-age movie.

"Wow," was all I could say.

"Wow is... correct," he grimaced.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm scared of heights."

"And you thought to bring us up here?"

"Yes. For the art."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, you can hang onto me." He yelped as I yanked him into my frame.

"I do hate you," he muttered.

I wanted to continue admiring the skyline, but knowing Lawrence was unsettled made me think I needed to fix him first. "Would it help if we sat instead?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Actually, yeah."

We sat down with him still pulled to me before I asked him to finally tell me the grand idea he'd been hiding for the longest.