San Diego

My first true honest-to-goodness short story, also done years ago, that I'd like to have some feedback on to fix up.

 

The sun vanished over the Pacific, leaving Interstate 5 engulfed in bleak twilight.  Kayla exhaled into the ocean air, inhaling the toxins that the age of industry and technology gifted them with.  It was dark enough to set foot upon the trail.  She and Aaron had walked here only at night—save for one occasion—so she could only walk here at night.  It was easy to take a wrong step and fall, but Kayla was confident in herself.  She was confident she could make her way to the lagoon with her eyes closed. 

            “Easy does it,” she sighed and heaved her backpack upon her right shoulder, letting it hang loosely.  Some called it style; she called it convenience.  She liked being convenient.  Funny how life never was.

Her foot took the first step and she released another heavy breath of air.  This was the first time she’d ever come here without Aaron.  With it being a Friday, Aaron was at that club… what was its name?  Margarita Rocks.  The only +18 club worth attending.  He was probably with Melissa, Ashley, Joanna… anyone in tight clothing with a slim waistline and curves that he could rub against.  She wished she could be with Samantha, particularly to be away from Aaron.  She was long-since over Aaron.  Tonight, she was going to prove it.  Over the rocks she went, all the while fingering for a flashlight in her pocket.  It was a slim light, one with two AAAs that would probably last her only through the night, and the damn things were so expensive.  That was why she stopped taking her radio to the beach.  Too much money, and too much noise.  How she hated noise, but that was all okay now.  Where she was, all she could hear was the dim sounds of the interstate at her back, cars rushing by and stealing the wind with their tires.  It would come out churned and toxic on the other side as it mingled with exhaust.  Where she was, the ocean put a shield around her.  She could only taste salt on her tongue.

She tasted salt at Margarita Rocks, with its water-front property.  The first night she went there, she wore a red tube top and black leather.  It served its purpose—it got attention.  It got Aaron’s attention most of all.  She was laying back the drinks, or at least pretending to be.  In truth, she was only eighteen, but she was always good at pretending.

“Nice moves,” he commented to her as he took a seat beside her, close by the bar.

“Liar,” she sighed as she looked up at him.  Slick black hair, brown eyes, complexion tanned by exposure to the pacific sun.  He was a nice sight.  “I don’t dance.”

“Fine, but you’re a liar since I know you’re not drinking,” he taunted.  “I thought like-minds could connect.  How was my attempt?”

“I give you credit for trying,” she sighed as she turned to her glass of water.

“Actually, I wasn’t trying,” he replied.  “I sit behind you in second period government.  I don’t know of any twenty-one year old seniors.”

“I have,” she said and finished her water glass.  She reached over to grab her purse.  “I’m off.  I have to study.”

“It’s Friday!” he exclaimed and stood up to block her path, jokingly.  She didn’t find it funny.  “Look, do you even know who I am?”

“Now I do,” she grunted.  “Aaron Cavalier.  The one with the gaming magazine you always hide behind your textbook, thinking that no one sees you.”

“And I know you, Kayla Ranse,” he responded.  “I know they see me.  I just don’t care.  Next year, I’m going to be away from here.”

“Oh are you?” she said patronizingly.  He’d better move.  She was going to make him move in a moment.

“Long Beach,” he replied.  “Here, I’ll buy you a drink and tell you all about it.”

“No thanks,” she said and pushed her shoulder against him, knocking him backwards into a wall.  “I don’t do date-rapes.”

That night, she called Samantha up.  Samantha knew the trick to calming an angst-ridden heart.  Kayla was curt, callous, “He was blatantly lacking all grace and manners.  I can’t believe what sort of slobs men can be.”

“What did you wear?” Samantha giggled.  Kayla told her.  Laughter became exemplified.  She soon added, “Sometimes they like it when you play hard-to-get.”

“Which proves the utter idiocy that dominates the male mind,” Kayla responded aggressively.

Samantha had been right.  Monday, after handing in the exam, Kayla returned to her seat to find Aaron’s phone number on a post-it note, clinging to her backpack.  She tore it up.  That night, he called her.

“It’s illegal to stalk people,” she said bitterly as she recognized his voice on the other end of the line.  “I’m writing an essay.  You’re intruding on my life in two ways now.  How did you get this number?”

“Musicians are so vulnerable,” he said mischievously.

“Tell me which idiot in my ensemble gave you this number so they can have their instrument jammed up where it won’t make any more music,” she growled.

“I can’t, I have to protect my friend,” he replied.  “Don’t worry, you’re safe, because you’re my friend, too.”

“Oh am I?” she asked, propping the phone between her ear and shoulder as to plant her hands upon the keyboard.

“Yes,” he said anxiously.  “What are you doing right now?  It sounds important.”

“Of course it is!” she sneered.  “I’m writing.  What I write is always important.”

“Oh really now?” he laughed.  “Are you going to become famous someday?  Make Oprah’s Book Club?”

“Yes,” she said and pressed the off button on the phone.  She hoped to never hear from him again.  A week later, he approached her and Samantha at Margarita Rocks.

“You don’t give up, do you?” she rolled her eyes.

“Huh?” he blinked.  His eyes truly were beautiful, Kaila hated herself for wanting to get lost in them.  “Do I know you?  I wish I did, since you’re pretty cute.  I’m Aaron Cavalier.  I go to El Camino High School.  Would you like to go out with me?”

“Why not,” she shrugged as she finished off her soda.  “Might as well try anything once.”

 “Awesome,” he smiled.  “I know a great place to go hiking, if that’s your thing.”

“It is,” Samantha said brightly as she stood up from the table.  “I’m becoming a third wheel on a date, so I’ll see you later.”

“A…date?” Kayla looked up blankly as she watched her friend disappear out the front door.  Aaron sat down beside Kayla and put his arm around her.  She met his eyes.  “I don’t consider this a date.  You haven’t bought me dinner and there’s no outing.”

“There will be,” he said. “Friday night, you and I.  We’ll go hiking.  I know a great place.  I’ll bring dinner to complete the package.  Do you like mayonnaise or mustard?”

“Neither,” she said as she stood up.  She made her way towards the door, paused and pivoted.  “Put both on.”

The memory faded from her eyes and reality returned to her.  She was back on the trail.  She found her feet upon solid earth.  Her eyes had at last adjusted to the dark and the moon was a magnificent candle to light her path.  She exhaled in relaxation.  She had lost the immediate fight-or-flight pose that captured her when walking through brush.  She had always associated safety with this trail, but one could never be too careful.  Never in San Diego County was there a time where you were completely safe.  You were always vulnerable.  That was why she knew someday she would leave San Diego and find a place where she would feel at rest.  As she relaxed, she heard Aaron’s voice call to her from the past.

“Hey, take it easy,” he said as he slowed her pace.  “We still have hours before sunset.”

“We’re staying until sunset?” she asked him, curiously.

“We’d better,” he grinned.  “I packed enough ‘beer’ for us.”

“I don’t drink,” she frowned and started to sit up.  She looked in the distance, to where his green Taurus sat, parked by the rocks.  It wasn’t far from a bus stop.  No one was ever far from civilization, especially in Encinitas.  It was a good two hours home by bus, but the idea sounded more and more appealing as he pulled from the cooler a bottle wrapped in a brown bag.

“Relax,” he laughed and removed the bottle from the bag.  The red and white soda label glistened under the afternoon sunlight.  She laughed and threw back her shoulders, only to find herself smiling for the first time in his presence.  “Wow.  And I thought the Pacific was magnificent.”

“Cherish it,” she said wryly.  “I don’t smile too often for strangers.”

“That’s the reason we’re here,” he explained.  “I don’t want us to be strangers.  Even if it takes all night, I won’t leave here until we know each other.”

When she entered the canyon, she felt the weight of the voices from the past heavy on her shoulders.  They were voices of a more pleasant time, come back to haunt her.  The cliffs were up ahead, leading to the perfect lookout point.  The ocean was clearest from there, with the lagoon beneath her.  Should she take one wrong step, she would plummet into its waters.  She didn’t always trust water, but there was something so powerful and serene about an ocean under starlight.  She wanted to see the ocean under starlight… without people intruding upon her.  She had been to the pier at nights, but that was never magical in any sense.  Footsteps pounding upon the planks, people leaving tipsy and tumbling from the restaurant, too many children being held out late, crying and moping.  With Aaron that evening, it wasn’t like that.  They arrived at the lookout point an hour before sunset, where Aaron emptied his backpack.  A blanket was laid down on dry, scratchy grass.

“I’m impressed,” she laughed as she bit into her sandwich.  “I’ve never found a guy who’ll show his face in a deli.”

“My uncle works there,” he shrugged.  “I told him I was taking out a beautiful girl, so he helped set me up.  I couldn’t steal all the credit for myself.”

“That’s all right,” she smiled.  “Honesty is a good attribute to have, as is being able to admit when you need help.”

“First step towards recovery!” he chuckled.  They talked as they ate about all the random details about their lives that might otherwise intrude upon their relationship.  She talked about her family, he spoke of his and their global traveling.  She felt envious. He noticed it.  “I bet you’ve accomplished a lot.”

“Not really,” she sighed.

“Really?” he frowned.  “You’re so dedicated to your writings.”

“Yeah,” she said as her eyes fell over the coastline.  The ocean’ waters subsided into gentle swells in the onset of evening.  “It’s a good form of relaxation.”

“I don’t think that’s the only reason,” he said skeptically.

“What makes you say that?” she asked as she pushed stray black hairs behind her ears.

“You seem like someone who’s always thinking, analyzing,” he explained.  “I’ve seen you with your journal.  You’re as bad as I am with my gaming magazine, but when I’m just doing dozing, you’re thinking.”

“That’s why I write,” she said, and her eyes and voice became distant. “I have this idea, but you might find it absurd.”

“Try me,” he pressed.

“I think there’s something more grandiose than any of us in this world,” she said and as she spoke, there was fire in her voice.  “Everyone has their hidden talent, their secret capability to distinguish themselves from each other.  For some, it’s music, for others, its social skills.  For me, it’s writing.  If we all work together at our talents, I think we can one day find what that greater thing is.  I want to find it.  It’s at moments like this, when I’m looking out at sea and seeing the way that purple and orange, the pastel of pinks grace the sky… look at the way that the clouds mingle alongside them.  The first painter in the world couldn’t have imagined something so beautiful.  Not one human can think of something like this.  What if something I write, though, affects someone else and their writing… and before we know it, we’ve unlocked the greatest secrets of the universe?”

As Aaron lapsed into serene silence, she fell back upon the blanket, laughing.  Her face was red with humiliation.  “Okay, so it is pretty absurd.”

“No,” he said, calmly.  “It’s not.  Do you really believe this?”

“Yes,” she said, flushed.  “I don’t think I’ll ever make Oprah’s Book Club, but if one person reads something of mine and is affected by it, I’ll consider myself fortunate.”

“Might I be daring?” he asked.  At this moment, she noticed he had moved slowly to put his arm over her shoulders.  They were now resting against each other, breaths in perfect synchronization, pulses falling into a cadence.

“If you ask permission, it’s no longer daring,” she replied.

He raised a finger to her lips.  She fell silent and became mesmerized as his brown eyes moved in to take up the entire scenery of the ocean and blossoming twilight.  No, she can’t become lost in them... but she did, for a brief instant.  That instant subsided as her lids closed and her lips made contact with his.  Would it make any sense if she thought that that one kiss was greater than any words she could express that evening?  Did that thought make her a fool?  She was a fool who tasted cool mint mixed with salt, blocking out all the sounds of the Interstate a few miles in the distance.  As she opened her eyes, he was still looking in upon them, smiling.  “I think this means we’re not strangers anymore.”

“No we’re not,” she said and fell into the crevice beneath his arms.  She could not immediately identify an emotion that fit the way she felt.  It was not love, it was not thrill or lust.  Could it be contentment?  She had never truly understood what contentment was until she thought back to that evening later that night and looked out to see a perfectly clear moon.  She turned in her bed to sleep facing the west, where the ocean stood, beckoning her.

 

 

“Aaron,” she moaned and pulled on his right arm.  He didn’t hear her amidst the crowd.  They’d been together for at least six months by now and he still couldn’t have felt her tug to be any different than the bodies pressing up against them.

 “No IDs, no entrance!” Aaron grunted.  “Do I look like a kid to you?”

He was talking to no one, yet she couldn’t get his attention.  She continued to pull at him.  “I have a headache.  Let’s go.”

At last, he heard her.  “Are you feeling all right?”

“No,” she said.  “I’m tired.  I have a headache.”

“I don’t want him treating you like this,” Aaron frowned.  He turned towards the entrance of the club.

You don’t want him treating YOU like this, she thought brusquely to herself.  “Let’s go.  We can go to Margarita Rocks.”

“We paid ten dollars to park here!” he exclaimed, exasperated.

“We’ll take a walk, then,” she said.  “Come on.  I’ll feel better if we leave this crowd.”

He paused, still hesitant to depart.  At last, he turned to her and clutched her left hand.  He said, “All right, let’s go.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled in relief as she followed him out onto the main block.  They strolled towards the water.  She could tell he was still worked up from the incident at the club.  It was a nuisance, but not one that she would let it ruin the evening.  She tried to ease his anger.

“Acceptance letters will be coming any day now,” she said, hopefully.

“Any day always seems a day too late,” he frowned.  “I wish they’d just tell us what’s going on.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” she said.  “Where did you apply to, aside from Long Beach?”

“Fresno,” he said.  “And San Diego State, just to be safe.  And you?”

“Oh goodness,” she laughed.  “Pepperdine, Chapman… and Westmont.  Just to be safe.”

“Oh really?” he raised his eyebrows.  “I thought you’d pick something a bit more prestigious.”

“Pepperdine isn’t prestigious enough?” she laughed.  “I probably won’t get in.”

“Well, I was sort of hoping that we would be able be together on weekends,” he said, disappointed.

“Oh, calm down,” she gave him a playful slug on the shoulder.  “I couldn’t apply to a UC or CSU.  I needed something with more ambiguity.  I want to go to somewhere away from crowds.  It’ll give me somewhere to think.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a nonconformist,” he noted snidely.

“Not really.  I tried nonconformity once, it didn’t work well for me,” she frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“There was…” she sighed, wondering how much she really wanted him to know this story.  “…this guy once.  We used to date because he was into random things, like two in the morning road trips.  I was young and stupid.  I decided from then on I would no longer do things for the sake of identifying myself with a crowd.  Even nonconformists don’t realize that they’re conforming.  To be called a nonconformist means to conform to a title, or to an association.  Now, I do as I please.”

“It would please me if you were somewhere nearby,” he said as his face turned into a slight pout.

“Oh calm down,” she said.  “I won’t be very far, wherever I am.  I just think that there’s things more fantastic out there than San Diego, and I’d like to see them if I could.  I’ll feel suffocated if I spend my entire life trapped within a city or suburbs.”

“All right,” he sighed. “I don’t see how Pepperdine fits into that.”

“Look,” she motioned, ignoring his comment.  “The waterfront is a few blocks ahead.  Can we go there?”

“I suppose,” he said, his voice distant.  He was purposely being difficult, just like a kid that wasn’t getting everything done his way.  She thought if she let him steam over it, he’d get tired and move on.  The shops along the ocean were closed, but she had fun running to each window and looking inside.  She paused in front of a ceramics shop.  There was a miniature lighthouse on display, red and white stripes decorating its base.  At the very tip, a seagull was perched.  The stand was a grassy knoll, with surf pounding against the rocks.

“Look,” she said, pulling him alongside it.  “It’s just like the pier, if they had a lighthouse there.  Isn’t it beautiful?  I want to live somewhere that has a lighthouse like this someday.”

“I know, you’ve written about it dozens of times,” he said dryly.  She once again ignored him.  She was tired, though, and her head was still throbbing.

“It’s late,” she said, “Let’s go home.”

They made their way back deep into the city, where they parked.  It was a long walk and he wasn’t done fuming.

“What do you mean San Diego isn’t good enough for you?” he demanded aggressively.

“I didn’t say that,” she countered, trying to remain calm.  “I said that I wanted to experience more places.”

“Does that mean that all the time you’ve spent with me was time you could have better spent writing?” he grunted.

“I’m not going to have this conversation right now,” she said flatly.  “I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted.  We’re going to talk about this later.”

“Fine,” he said dryly.  The next forty minutes spent in the car with him was bitter silence.  As he pulled up to her house, she bent over to plant a peck upon his cheek.  He made no motion to respond and soon drove away.  She tried to not let the moment get to her, but days passed and he didn’t call.

“What’s going on?” she asked him later that week.

“What do you mean?” he said.  There was a distinction between ignorant and insolent.  In her mind, he was the latter at that moment.

“With this!” she exclaimed.  “Why are you so difficult?”

“I’m sorry,” he said bitterly.  “I just don’t like people telling me I’m a burden.”

“That’s not what I said and you know it,” she grunted.  She wasn’t going to take this from him.

“Well, obviously there’s a severe communication problem between us,” he sneered.  “Maybe you’re right.  This obviously isn’t going to work out between us.”

“You are the most stubborn man I know!” she said indignantly.  A second later, the phone hung up on the other end.  She wasn’t certain if she should cry, fume or what.  She planted herself furiously at the keyboard, letting her fingers fly without a coherent sense of organization amongst her words or sentences.  She was Picasso; what she had made upon the paper was a mess of incomprehensible syllables and vowels that were never meant to be grouped together, a caricature upon the English language.  Still, it was art to her.  To her, it was beautiful because it was an expression of herself.  This was something she would not let anyone read.  She made a promise to herself that night that no one else’s eyes would ever see it, no one else’s mind would ever know it had once existed.

That promise was broken a day later.  She called Samantha over the phone.  Her intent was to say happy birthday and ask how her physics test went.  A moment later, as Kayla’s voice fell into short gasps, she heard her friend say, “Don’t go anywhere.”

Ten minutes later, Samantha arrived.  Kayla thought she could be strong, but the second her friend’s arms went around her shoulders, she fell into sobs upon the porch.  Her body trembled as tears that she never intended to let fall, fell anyway, regardless of her will.  Her physical form was in protest with that of her mind.  She hated crying.  She hated feeling weak.  When she was weak, she did foolish things, like break promises to herself.  She showed Samantha her Picasso work.  Samantha responded by putting her arms around her and saying that she was too beautiful to worry about this.

“Would you like me to talk to him?” Samantha asked before she left.

“No,” Kayla shook her head, feeling some semblance of composure.  “Please don’t.”

“All right,” Samantha said as she climbed behind the wheel, “But take care of yourself.”

A week passed before Aaron called to apologize.  She never understood why he couldn’t tell her farewell in person.  She accepted his apology but made it very clear that they weren’t meant to be together and he had made the right choice.

“What I made was a mistake,” he responded.  “I thought that you of all people would be forgiving of that.”

“What about when we get our acceptance letters?” she asked.  “What’s to say that will be any different?  No, Aaron, you didn’t make a mistake.  You unleashed a part of yourself that I’ve never seen before.  I don’t think that part of you will ever be able to understand me.  I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”

No ‘I love you’ or ‘good-bye’ to clear the air.  She made her last statement very informal, very much on the level of casual friendship.  As the days passed, Friday somehow came again.  She spent the night at Margarita Rocks.  Aaron was no where in sight.  There were other men who she let came up to her.  That was a sour idea.

            “I finally get it,” she announced in Samantha’s bedroom the following evening.  Her face lit up like someone on the verge of an epiphany.  “I’m meant to be with someone, and it’s you, Samantha.  Best friends from girlhood… something that a man could never understand.”

            “A nice idea,” Samantha laughed.  “It’s not really going to flow over well when I start dating, though, now will it?”

            She climbed over to the side of the room and gave Kaila a hug.  “Don’t think that Aaron was a mistake.”

            “I know he wasn’t,” Kayla sighed.  “That’s what’s difficult about this.  If I knew he was, I could shrug this off.  Whether or not we were meant to be together in unity, that’s beside the point.  We were meant to be together at that time.”

            “I love delving into the mind of Kayla,” Samantha fell into giggles.

            “No,” Kayla shook her head.  “I don’t know… I really don’t understand things… but when I was with him, I felt more of a connection with myself.  I don’t know what it was about him.”

            “The fact that he was a low-life?” Samantha pressed. “They always make you feel better about yourself.”

            “I don’t know,” Kayla sighed and exhaled deeply.  “Have you ever seen the sunset from the most pristine point in the world?  The sounds of the world fade into nonexistence as your eyes focus upon the changing colors.  You can see the strokes upon the night sky like a paintbrush to a canvas and, over the ocean, the entire world glitters.  It’s something you can’t understand, but it makes you want to understand it, how something so magnificent could come to be.  I could never understand Aaron.  I wanted to.  I don’t know if that makes any sense to you.  I should go.”

            She rose from her friend’s side and made her way to her car.  That was six months ago, and she could still see Samantha’s house in her mind as a reflection in her rearview mirror.  She could still smell the scent of a pipe in Samantha’s house.  She would do anything to have that smell back.  Memories faded and reality returned as she reached the lookout point on the trail.  She fell upon the dry grass.  She hadn’t any intentions of being there for long.  She only wanted to know the answer to one question.  As she sat down, she reached into her backpack and removed a brown bag.  She sipped at the contents of the bottle inside as her eyes fell over the ocean and starlight above it.  The entire world glitters.  She wanted to write it all down, but there was no light and no notebook.  Thank goodness for that; there was no way she could have done such scenery justice.  As the sounds of the Interstate faded from her mind, she let herself be lost in the question of what it felt like to be a murderer.

            She saw it on the news—the accident with the young girl of eighteen years on Interstate 5 by La Costa Avenue.  She didn’t want to think of what it must have been, but she couldn’t help it.  For once, she thought of the people who sat upon death row and felt as if she should be amongst them.  She would confess to influencing her best friend into getting in the car that night, an event that led to her death.  If Kayla never told her about this spot, seeking someone to immediately understand her, she might have one day been able to take Samantha here and show her in person.  She only hoped that before Samantha’s life ended, she was able to see the world shine. 

“Hey, kid!” she jumped as a flashlight flickered at her back.  She turned out of surprise and foolishly looked into the beam, blinding her for seconds to come.  When she could focus her eyes, she saw a police officer standing at her back.

“Yes?” she asked innocently.

“Aren’t you a bit young to be drinking?”

“Oh, I’m not drinking,” she laughed as she removed the bottle from its bag.  She held out the red and white soda label, letting it shimmer under the beam of light.  She couldn’t understand why it was that she did this.  All she knew was something seemed criminal about coming here and not doing it.

“Well, be careful out here,” the officer said.  “I’m sorry to startle you, but there have been reports of teenagers doing drugs in these fields.”

Stupid teenagers, she grunted, they never know how to let a place remain beautiful.  She called back out to him, “I’ll be moving along in a moment, but thank you.”

“You have a good night,” he said and turned to disappear back towards the houses above the canyon.  The rich houses.  The kind that she knew she could never afford.

She exhaled and laid back upon the grass.  Tomorrow evening, she would have to drive back to Westmont.  The first week of classes had been cumbersome, but everything started slow.  Only in time could things grow intense and fascinating.  Only time was able to give something the power to steal a part of you and trap it forever.  Samantha had certainly done that.  Curses, even Aaron had done that.  She shook her head.  She heard the day before graduation from one of Aaron’s friends, the one she found out who ratted out her phone number to him, that he didn’t get accepted into Long Beach, or Fresno or San Diego State.  He would still be in the area.  She stood up and brushed herself off.  Maybe she should go looking for him, see what’s become of him.  Maybe she should just go to Margarita Rocks and see what’s going on in her old community.  She shook her head and made her way down the path, back towards her car.  As she walked, she counted the footsteps she came across and wondered how many steps it would take to tread the ocean if it were contained as a solid entity of land.

Reviews

[emma]

Okay, so I'm going to really review this here, but first I want to say that this story was super readable. As in, I got caught up in it, and there was nothing so confusing or /wrong/ that I had to stop and go back and read. It just flowed. After reading it, I have a few questions about the characters, and in relation to the characters, the structure. Clearly Kayla (try to have consistent spelling of her name) is the protagonist, but from there, the major and minor characters get fuzzy. Aaron is a very major character for the beginning of the story and Samantha is minor, to the point that I barely paid her any mind. Samantha was flat—basically just a way for Kayla to normalize comfort herself after something important happened. Flat characters aren't bad—except in the end, Samantha becomes important, because she dies! That took me completely by surprise, and I didn't understand the point, as a reader. I didn't know Samantha enough—I wasn't invested. We didn't get any hint of her death in the beginning, when Kayla is hiking. Wouldn't she be more preoccupied with her friend's death than her breakup with Aaron? Her death takes a lot away from the frankly beautiful story you have going on with Aaron. Your flashbacks are fluid, graceful creatures, and they add a lot of understanding to the story—if the story is between Aaron and Kayla. I would be careful about using Kayla's voice to preach about things in paragraph-like form. People don't use the word 'upon' in everyday speech, as far as I can tell. Also I'd be careful of being too colloquial about the area this takes place—the story makes sense to someone from San Diego, but not someone, for example, from out-of-state, or out of country. Maybe describe what it is about San Diego it is that makes Kayla want to get out so bad. I guess my main question is: what is this story about? Aaron? Samantha? 2 relationships? 1? Moving on from San Diego? Wait that's a bunch of questions. Anyway, your writing itself is pretty awesome, and I can tell you think a lot about /being/ a writer. Let me know if you want any linebyline grammar notes!