We Taught Ourselves to Fly

Lavine held Rob’s hand the night he left, under the street post as the engine of a nearby taxi hummed in the silence. It was coming for him, she already knew it. They were best friends since grade school, they made stupid promises back then to crash their high school graduation party together. But, that would never happen now that this moment had come.

Glancing up at the ember flicker of the somber lamp lurking above her head, Lavine watched the tiny specks of stars peak out from beyond the fading bulb. She remembered all those times they had laid under the city limits sign, welcoming travelers that never came. She’d never get another one of those Sunday nights with him. She’d never hear her mother screaming her name out of the peace of the night to come home. He didn’t even have to tell her why he invited her here, tonight, Lavine already knew. She had seen his school transfer forums, the piling boxes through his window.

“Sparrow…” he spoke on a trembling conscience, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she scoffed, glancing back down the street at the approaching car, “I have faith in you.”

“I’ll…I’ll come back in visit!” he stuttered, trying to pry the words from his brain, “Whenever I have a break, I’ll fly back down and meet you, under the Kettering sign.”

Rob’s grip increased on her hands as the yellow vehicle slowed to a stop at his feet. Decisions like this killed him, further his career, or leave his best friend behind. The girl that was always there for him. There when he landed his first kickflip to his first contest win. Lavine was there.

The trunk of the taxi popped as Rob pulled his bags to the back. Lavine was still standing under the street sign, looking into the stars. Throwing his bags into the compartment, he never broke sight of her. Softly closing the trunk, he grabbed his skateboard by the trucks and took her into his arms. Lavine began to softly whimper, on the verge of tears.

“I’ll be back. How about I call you the minute I get to the house? How about that?” he asked, trying to cheer her back to her spirits.

Rob glanced over through the front window, watching the annoyed expression of the driver. He then tapped on his wrist, acting as if it were an invisible watch, instructing him that his time was up with her.

“I’ve got to go. Just know, you’re my best friend Sparrow.”

Lavine nodded into his chest and raised her tearstained face. Quickly glancing over at the driver again, he saw that his hand was firmly rested on the horn, ready to trigger the bugle if he didn’t go through with his arrangement within the next minute. Pulling Lavine to his lips, he left her with a soft kiss, then proceeded into the car. It was far from the exit he had wanted, and expected, but he hoped to god she took it.

Rubbing his eyes in disappointment, he requested his ride to the airport, not looking back towards her. Before he could react, the car was already rolling away from Kettering, out onto the open highway. He hadn’t even looked back, he hadn’t told Lavine that he loved her unconditionally. Everything he had practiced, pacing around his room the night before, was lost in the moment. Now he was going sixty down a barren highway, away from her, away from his family, away from everything he knew. His head spinning as he laid himself against the cool, condensated window, not knowing what would happen next.
____

Rob never went through with his promise to her, to call the minute he got to the house. As he stepped foot into LAX, his past left him, he was a blank slate from that moment on. The moment he entered his new home, he even eyed the phone hanging from the wall. He breezed right past. He continued to do that for the next four weeks, only using it to order pizza or call one of his teammates from Alien Workshop.

It was only on the anniversary on his leaving that he remembered his subtle promise to Lavine. Turning to his left, he spotted the phone, looming in the shade of the evening. His stomach dropped, his palms became sweaty as his fingers darted about the keypad, punching in her number. The rings ceased suddenly with a groan of frustration at the other end.

“Do you even know what time it is? Who is this?!” yelled a female voice from the receiver. It wasn’t her, it was her mother.

“Rob…Rob Dyrdek,” he clarified, glancing at the clock. It was four A.M. where he stood.

Doing some quick conversions, he tensed, sending his face into a twisted mess, realizing it was one in the morning where her mother had picked up the receiver.

“I’m sorry to bother you so early. But, I really need to talk to your daughter…Lavine.”

“Lavine’s not here,” she spat, the acid from her words almost burning his cheeks, “She been gone for awhile now. Ran away because you left her.”

Her words increased in volume, a dab of regret and anger thrown into the mix.

“She’s gone because of you Dyrdek, you and your fucking skateboarding! Never call back here again.”

With that, the line went dead. Sliding his back down the wall, Rob felt himself begin to tremble. She was gone, because of him. If he would have called her, like he promised, would she still be around? If he would have confessed his unbinding love for her, would she still be waiting under the ‘Welcome to Kettering’ sign for his arrival?

He held his head in shame as the phone twirled around on its holding cord, an automated operator instructing the return of the device to the holder it belonged in. Was this God’s way of teaching him a lesson he would never forget? Lavine could be dead for all he knew. Left beaten and raped in a truckstop ravine while he lived comfortably in his Los Angeles pad.

That night he slept next to the phone, who’s dial ring had ceased while he dozed off into a self-forced slumber. Regret took hold of his guts, twisting and turning them in such a way that he was forced to vomit twice. The next morning, he tried to gather himself from shambles, going downtown to skate. He didn’t land a single trick, finding himself sprawled out on the concrete more times than usual. Once risen, yet again, he lifted up his shirt to view the track marks of road rash that he had given himself.

That didn’t matter to him now, mind going off into another realm.
He just hoped and prayed that his Sparrow had taught herself to fly.