The alarm blared at 7:00 AM. It was that J-pop song she used to love. Hearing it every morning had fixed that.
She rolled over and slapped it quiet. Lying still, she watched the ceiling fan complete a slow, clicking rotation before she finally sat up.
Her grey hoodie, its cuffs comfortably frayed, hung on the door right where she'd left it. She pulled it on. The sleeves were a little shorter than she remembered, but that always happened after a run through the dryer.
In the kitchen, the cereal box stood waiting on the counter, the cartoon sun on its front grinning its usual wide grin. She poured a bowl, added milk, and ate. The first spoonful tasted faintly of cardboard, the way it always did when the box was nearly empty.
After rinsing the bowl and leaving it on the counter, she checked her phone.
Then, the world came out from under her. Pain. Her head. She had slipped. A puddle of water had formed under the dishwasher. She looked up and saw the sharp edge of the corner. Any closer to that, and she may have found herself heading to the hospital.
She slowly stood, checking her phone once again. The screen had cracked. Claire could tell it was going to be an awful day.
One new message from David.
Meet me at the corner café. Usual time.
A smile touched her lips before she even thought about it. She slipped on her shoes and stepped outside.
Her walk through the neighborhood followed the same familiar script. The two dogs trotted up to their fence to bark a cheerful greeting. The house a few lots down still wore its awful seafoam green paint. And the blue sedan at the curb was still there, its one flat tire looking permanent.
The electronic chime above the coffee shop door pinged as she stepped inside. He was already there, and he looked up as she entered. He smiled.
Hey, Claire, he said.
Her smile widened at the sound of his voice, momentarily pushing aside the throbbing in her head. She walked over, sliding into the booth across from him. Hey, you. You beat me here. I had a bit of a morning. She set her cracked phone on the table. The dishwasher declared war and my phone took the brunt of the counterattack.Her eyes scanned his face. But seeing you helps. It always does.
David picked up her phone. Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. Looks like it still works though. He leaned forward, brushing his finger through her hair, seeing the injury. You feeling okay?
She leaned into his touch. Just a little headache. Nothing a strong coffee won't fix. She nodded toward the counter. You ordering for me? You always knew what I need.
David sat back down. I can if you want. I haven't ordered anything yet. He looked her over once again. You sure you're okay? His eyes seemed to look through her. Was it concern?
She met his gaze. It felt as if he was seeing her a little too clearly. I'm sure. Just a little shaken. And yes, please. My usual. She smiled and touched the tender spot. You're looking at me like you're seeing a ghost.
David stood fully. Yeah… Just worried. David approached the counter and placed their order. Claire sat, watching him. It was nice to have someone care so genuinely. He returned, placing the drink in front of her. Here ya go. So, what's the plan today?
She wrapped her hands around the cup, the scent of steamed milk and espresso cleared her mental fog. I don't know. I hadn't thought that far. She took a careful sip. The world already tried to rearrange my head today. Maybe a quiet one. A walk? She glanced out the window, then back at him. You could tell me about your week. I feel like it's been forever.
David followed the look. A walk… Again? Hm… he shrugged. Sure. Let's go. He reached a hand out to help her stand up.
Claire took it. As she began to rise, the chair slid out from under her, causing her to stumble. She squeezed reflexively. With a pop, the lid to her mug came off. Heat and pain bloomed on her hand.
David steadied her. Whoa, girl! Did you break a mirror today? He took a napkin and began to wipe her down.
She gasped at the heat, flinching. Clumsy. I'm so clumsy today. She looked at the dark stain spreading on the grey fabric, then at the red mark already on her wrist. It's fine. Really. It's just... this was my favorite hoodie.
David frowned. Jeez. We can walk back to my place and try to wash it, if you like. The quicker the better.
She shook her head. It's seen worse. The dryer will probably finish it off anyway. But a walk still sounds good. The fresh air will help. She cradled her wrist lightly.
As they went to leave, David took the crumpled cup to the counter and had the barista swap it out. Here. This one should be on there good. He lightly took her hand as they stepped outside, eyes scanning it over. Doesn't look too bad. Got lucky. His tone held a flicker of annoyance.
Claire kept her hand with his. I always get lucky when you're around.
David led her down the street. Of course.
As they approached, the sound of a car honking seemed to startle Claire more than usual. A shaky laugh escaped her. Sorry. Just… jumpy. It's really nothing. She forced her shoulders to relax. The park bench came into view. It's still a good spot, huh?
He broke pace and walked slightly ahead. Definitely. So, anything rattling in that head of yours?
She watched his back for a moment. Just the usual clutter. And today's odd events. She stopped by the bench, running her fingers along the weathered wood. It's funny how the past feels so close sometimes.
A smirk flashed across David's face. Yeah! Actually, why don't we fuck around on the playground? Just us here at this hour. Why not?
Claire looked at the empty playground, then back at him, laughter taking hold. You're ridiculous. I love it. She handed him her coffee and walked toward the slide, Last one to the top buys dinner. She climbed the ladder, the steps familiar under her hands, and settled at the top. Coming? Or are you just going to stand there looking cute?
David slowly clambered up to meet her. Always looked so much bigger when we were kids. Weird.
Claire shifted to make room for him. A sudden, sharp pinch bit into her palm. She jerked her hand back with a soft hiss. Ouch. Rusty bolt. She examined the small puncture below her thumb. It's nothing. Just a scratch. See? All part of the adventure. She went to push off down the slide, but her foot caught on a warped seam of metal at the very top. With a yelp, she landed awkwardly in the wood chips at the bottom. A hot, grating pain shot through her ankle as she tried to stand. She gave up, only rolling herself over in the end.
David followed her down. Claire! What is going on with you today? Here, let me see. He crouched down, sliding her shoe and sock off. He was slow about it, but it hurt all the same. Doesn't seem like a break, but you definitely twisted it. Probably just a sprain. He gave it a tender kiss, the way a father would for their child. Come on, big girl. He tried to lift her, taking most of her weight. You've got this.
Claire's ankle screamed in protest. They managed to make it back to the sidewalk. But the pain was too much. The world tilted. A wave of nausea. Her ankle gave way once again. She collapsed, pulling him down with her.
David barely managed to catch himself.
Claire hit the pavement hard.
Her temple struck the raised edge of the sidewalk crack.
She tried to push up, but the world spun now. The nausea took hold. She turned her head just in time to retch into the grass beside the path. Her vision tunneled, black at the edges. The ankle throbbed in rhythm with her heartbeat and now her head felt split open.
David's voice came distant, panicked. Claire! Claire, talk to me.
She couldn't answer. She felt herself slipping, body going limp as the darkness rushed in.
Everything went quiet.