dahlia woods.

“so, it’s taco tuesday...” dahlia began, taking a sip from her can of soda. “...and i, uh... i didn’t... check the number i put in with the catering company, so now i accidentally ordered three taco packs when i meant to order one.. “ she moved toward the side for dramatic fashion, containers of food covering the full length of the table. “so now i have nine pounds of ground beef and way too many toppings. please, i’m begging you, help me eat some of this...”

checking the contents of the small brown paper bag, dahlia was content with what she saw. her gaze averted toward a familiar face that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “oh hey,” dahlia greeted with a half-cocked grin. taking out three hundred dollar bills out of her pocket, she gave it to the delivery guy sitting on a bicycle in front of her and told him to keep the change. she waited until he was out of view before giving the other woman her full attention. “what brings you here?” she inquired with a look of both bewilderment and curiosity.

Oh really?

That’s like a whole, mini library, all to yourself.

Yeah. Really. They're certainly interesting, if anything. Straights are wild.

I’ve come to the stopping point, in my life, where I’ve actually finished the stack of books I had set aside. And frankly? I don’t know what to do now.

If you’re into romance novels, I have, like... uhh... three bookshelves worth?

Emma: I feel like you already know the answer to this but of fucking course it will : )

Emma: Then what's stopping you babes? Barack misses his SECOND favorite person anyway.

Dahlia: Whoops...

Dahlia: Work and the million and one plans I keep making with every human alive

Dahlia: I miss his little butt wiggles from the excitement every time I come over

Dahlia: If I say I miss hanging with you, will it get to your head?

It wasn’t often Surrey indulged in things outside of alcohol, but she could admit every now and then it was nice. It was a chance to get out of your own head and see things a little differently. “I… don’t like thinking about it. Because then when I go to walk next, I’ll still be thinking about it. And it’s so hard to walk when you’re thinking about it.” 

“Me and walking? Disaster of epic proportions because... that.”  Dahlia got momentarily distracted as she started counting the freckles on her legs, another thought coming to her. “Also when did we as a society collectively decide that legs are... you know... “sexy”? People tell me that and I’m like... huh.”

All Blake could muster in the moment was a small fit of giggles at Dahlia’s expense. It wasn’t meant to be cruel; no, she was thoroughly amused by how the other woman was handling the weed they’d shared. Truth be told, Blake was feeling it too, but she kept her musings to herself as Dahlia went on.

“Don’t think too hard or you’ll hurt yourself, D,” Blake chuckled. She didn’t know Dahlia well, nothing more than some mutual friends and a few hangouts at Retro, but she liked her and was having a good time, so she relished in the easy moment. “Just enjoy the vibe, you know?” She paused and motioned to Dahlia’s knee. “What did you do anyways?”

Something about this particular strain had Dahlia in a deeply analytical state. Many thoughts were swirling around in her mind and she had the unfortunate effect of spouting them out regardless of how ridiculous they seemed. Sometimes she hated not being able to string words together in a way she liked, seeing the grand aspects of a brilliant idea but nothing more. 

“I just... you know... humans,” Dahlia mumbled out after a long beat, leaning back in her chair. “Humans are fascinating.” She was the kind of person to have many casual friends -- Blake being one of them -- but she was hard pressed to think of anyone who was her best friend. That was the life she led, her way of protecting herself.

“There’s kind of a saying. If you don’t come out of gymnastics without screwing up your body, then did you ever really participate in it at all?” She hypothetically questioned with a casual shrug. “Landed wrong. It’s just one of those things. Happens to the best of us.” Figuring since the other woman asked, she felt safer pressing . “You?”

Emma couldn’t say she’d ever really thought all that much about legs. Sure, she’d checked out a great many of them; however, she never really thought about their function. Even in Med School, it just wasn’t something that flooded her mind. But sat there with Dahlia certainly had the gears turning. “if our brain tells our legs to move… what tells our brain to… brain?” Her eyes twinkled at the mention of stars. Sure, she didn’t know much about the bastards but they were always nice to look at. “Whoa, that’s… that’s deep, but like… stars aren’t living. They can’t procreate? Can they…?” Her voice went from shock to certainty– to complete doubt. Kids, stay in school. “Doesn’t seem like nothin’ if you still bummed about it…” A cheeky grin was stolen from her– quite proud of herself for that. “Get it cause… bum leg. Even if it’s not no bum anymore cause my dude got a whole doggy daycare now. Mr Bum is loaded.”

"Our brains tell our brains to brain,” Dahlia replied with bulged eyes, fingers lightly tapping against various parts of her ‘bum’ leg. “Why is it not a living thing? Because it has no heart or lungs? Our stars literally made us. We’re made out of the same material as them. And we’re living, aren’t we?” A beat. “I think.” Another beat. It seemed like perfect logic in her state so she simply left it at that. Her head tilted in confusion like a puppy before she nearly rolled her eyes in offense. “Oh please. The leg is perfectly functional. It just hurts a little bit sometimes.” That was putting it somewhat mildly but that was neither here or there. In many ways, Dahlia knew she was incredibly lucky -- a successful business in LA was no easy feat. It was a subject she tried to avoid at the risk of them feeling bad about not being as fortunate. “It’s weird living out the dream five year old me envisioned. What did five year old you think she was going to be doing today?”

Hayley looked around, realizing the girl on the beach was in fact talking to her she stopped and threw her torp over her shoulder. “Uh yeah, I guess that’s… wild?” she said, almost hesitantly, “you are talking to me right?”

For a good moment, Dahlia simply said nothing. And just stared... which was totally helping the poor woman’s confusion. She thought she had spoken out her answer out loud but in actuality she had not. “Oh, right, sorry... did I say that too quietly?”

Jackie watched the motion, the tiny circles Dahlia was tracing around her knee. She hadn’t actually caught the other woman’s words until she closed her eyes, letting her mind catch up to rest of her. She chuckled, offering Dahlia a lingering grin. “Right?” She agreed, tapping her own feet as if she needed to confirm that there was truth to her words. “It’s so weird to be in control of your own body, you know what I mean? I think ‘raise your right hand’ and oop, there it goes.” She said, right hand twitching up for a moment before landing back on her own knee. “Or weirder, not being in control of it. Twitches, hiccups, all that.”

"Yes,” Dahlia replied all too enthusiastically, eyes locked onto her own knee. Fingers lingered over where the staples had held the cut together. It was a nice escape from her lingering sadness that she often felt about what happened. She wiggled her fingers, eyes gleaming with amazement as she copied the other woman’s movements by raising her hand up and down. “You know what’s also weird? We have a brain that tells us to... brain. For instance, my brain is telling me to...” Words suddenly caught up with her, jaw momentarily agape. Her blank gaze averted toward the ocean. “I don’t... Who controls -- no... how...  what ... why?”

Blake sat lazily next to the brunette, eyes heavy and a content smile on her face as she rolled up her pant leg to show off a large scar on her calf that she had earned eating shit on a halfpipe landing. “Check it, I have one too,” she instructed, tapping her leg with pride. “Sometimes when I’m just long boarding, I think about how my legs just…know what to do with a board, you know? It’s crazy.”

Dahlia’s gaze averted toward the other woman’s calf, internally grimacing at the sight. She had seen her fair share of injuries as a result of the sport she spent over half of her life in but she always felt for them nonetheless. “That looks gnarly, dude,” she said casually, figuring it was best not to push for the story. The words sounded foreign coming off her tongue -- a result of hanging with those who did. “Muscle memory. You just don’t even... think. You just... do. Like...I’ll hold out my arms for this golden who loves to jump and I’ll be like, wait, huh?” Her thoughts were already scattered and all over the place in day to day life. The high was exacerbating that big time, it seemed. She could only hope she made even a lick of sense. “It’s insanity. Pure freaking... insanity.”

Sean took a long drag of the pre-rolled joint she had brought from work before passing it back to Dahlia, letting out the smoke as she laughed softly at the woman’s words. Not laughing at her, she wasn’t the type for that, but at the almost random nature of it, and how matter-of-factly the woman spoke. “Honestly? Yeah, I get that. I wish I was the kind of smart to really know how our bodies just…function like that? Do what they’re supposed to do, if we’re lucky enough.” She shook her head to emphasize just how over her head the topic goes (especially while a little stoned) before continuing. “Is this helping at all?” she asked, gesturing towards the scar on Dahlia’s leg with a small head nod. 

Dahlia watched her toes curl with fascination. This was a different type of high, one she wasn’t quite accustomed to. The hyper focus, she understood. The relaxation seeping into her muscles was new. “It’s like...  we have iron in our blood and calcium in our teeth and --...” She blinked rhythmically against thickened air, suddenly lost in thought. “I forgot where I was going.” Squinting her eyes, she tried to remember. Most likely she’d remember... the next day. Melting into the couch with the joint in her hands, she replied after a long beat of studying it. ““I think so, yeah... or maybe I’m just really enjoying your company.”

With a joint in her hand and Barack at her feet, she was content. Her company didn’t hurt either. “So, cool. Legs are amazing as fuck,” Emma agreed, lungs steadily filling with smoke. When she exhaled, she offered it to Dahlia with a caution of course. “What’d you do there? Looks like it really hurt.” She winced. 

“It’s like, you tell it to... go. And it just goes,” Dahlia said with wonder laced in her eyes as she kept them locked on her knee. She curled her toes for good measure, nearly letting out a gasp. It was the simple things in life, truly. “Do you also ever think about how we’re made of stardust, so when we look into the night sky, we’re looking at our origins? And that we’re children of the stars? It’s just... whoah.” Fingers tapped against her skin, nearly forgetting she had a joint in-between them. Huh, when did it magically appear there? Nonetheless, she took in deep hit from it. “Oh, it’s just some gymnastics thing, nothing to it, really.”