Pink Shades of Words: Walk 2016 Read Online Free Page A

that I’m in one of the last rows in the corner with some obstructed view, but knowing I was lucky to get a ticket at all, I decide to set aside my disappointment. I settle into my seat, sip my wine and scroll through Instagram and Pinterest to keep myself occupied. Anything to keep my mind off Matt and all the feelings seeing him again stirred up.
    A few minutes to eight, people start filing into the theater of their own accord knowing the posted start time is approaching. I do my best to avoid looking for Matt and whomever he is meeting up with, but I fail when he steps into the aisle to the left of where I’m sitting and scans the theater with his gaze. I sink further down into my seat hoping to disappear right as he looks my way.
    When our eyes connect he quickly looks away like it didn’t happen, and continues down the aisle. This second slight doesn’t sting as much as the first. I suppose that’s progress.
    As Matt moves closer to the stage I can’t help wondering where his date is. They must really be running late. He pulls his tickets out of his pocket, rechecks them and then finds his seat and sits down.
    I finish my wine as I watch him from afar. He periodically checks his phone, but continues to remain alone. The theater is almost full now and abuzz with anticipation when a man takes the stage and makes an adjustment to the microphone.
    “Excuse me folks, but I’ve got an announcement. There’s a delay with the show due to an accident in the car transporting Alec to the theater. Alec is fine and insists on carrying on with the show, but it may be another twenty or thirty minutes until he arrives. We apologize for this delay. Feel free to mill about and visit the bar until then.”
    A minute later I see Matt working his way back up the aisle. He stops at the edge of my row and looks over at me with a neutral expression. “I’m going to get another beer. You want another glass of wine?”
    I try to keep my mouth from falling open. “Sure, that’d be great thanks. Merlot please.”
    He nods and moves on.
    I twist my hands together as I wait, trying to imagine what his gesture of offering to bring me a drink means. It’s doubtful that he’d offer that if he hated me. Back in the day one of his friend’s warned me never to contact him again or he’d unleash a firestorm of fury on me. I remember my heart shriveling at that warning, but I followed the advice. My deeply rooted self-loathing for treating him with so little regard was already more than I could handle. Matt’s hate had the potential to break me.
    Several minutes later when I notice him stepping back into the aisle, I stand and move toward him. I smile warmly as I reach for the wine.
    “What do I owe you?”
    He shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
    I know he’s referring to the cost of the wine but I can’t help but bristle. He’s wrong regarding the bigger picture. I owe him so much and I always will. In the rawness of my youth, Matt made me feel special, both beautiful and not just smart, but clever. No one since has made me feel as extraordinary.
    “Thank you, Matt. I’m happy to get the next round if they make us wait longer than expected.”
    He doesn’t reply but takes a swig of his beer. He looks toward the front of the theater and I’m wondering if he’s still waiting for someone, but then I realize his gaze moves to his seats and then he looks over where my jacket is still draped over the back of mine. His expression is tense—conflicted, and I can’t imagine why.
    “That’s your seat?” He scrunches up his face.
    “Yeah, I know it sucks. But I bought the ticket late. It was just a twist of fate that I even found out about it.”
    “How’s that?”
    “My damn chiropractor was late, so I was paging through LA Weekly, beating back the urge to snark at the receptionist.”
    He lets out a quiet laugh. “You always were impatient.”
    I give him a pretend smirk. “Hello? What about you Mr. Now or