A coldness spread through me as I took him in for a beat, balled up my fist and smashed it into his face. Blood spurted from his nose and I let go of him, letting him sink to the floor. He looked up at me dazedly.
I stepped back and pushed the elevator button again. That same coldness took over my body, the feeling that I was watching the scene from above washing through me. In that moment, something felt like it clicked into place, my body jolting slightly. "I'll no longer require your representation, Tim," I said, without emotion. I felt nothing for the sleazy asshole bleeding on the floor in front of me, nothing but hollow contempt. The elevator doors opened and I stepped into it, my eyes never leaving him as the doors between us closed.
**********
I hopped in my car, a black Nissan Pathfinder that I had bought six months ago after signing with Courtney, and sat there without starting it for a couple minutes, staring unseeing out my window. I leaned forward and banged my head on the steering wheel, resting there for a minute as I cleared my head. I leaned up and started my car and drove like a homing pigeon to the entrance of the freeway. As I drove, I glanced up at a billboard I'd seen a thousand times driving through this part of the city, and my eyes drank it in for the first time, seeing it from a different perspective now. A feeling flowed through me that I couldn't explain, a strange energy that suddenly pulsed through my veins at the idea forming in my brain. Without thinking too much, I pulled out my phone and looked up an address on the Internet. I turned on my GPS and followed the prompts until I arrived at my destination in Santa Monica about twenty minutes later. I parked and got out of my car before I could talk myself out of this. As I was pulling the door open, I glanced up at the sign, Navy Recruiting.
One chance to change your mind, Carson. I paused for a second, but then pulled the door fully open.
I walked in and was immediately greeted by a man wearing a khaki uniform, with a nametag and a few ribbons on his shirt. "Can I help you?" he asked.
Was I really going to do this? Grace's face popped into my head. "I'm here to enlist," I said.
"Well, okay then, I'm your guy," he said on a big smile. "Come on over with me. I'm Petty Officer First Class, Duane Mitchell," he said, stopping to shake my hand quickly and then continuing on to his desk. He sat behind it and indicated a chair on the other side. I sat down.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Carson Stinger."
"Okay, Carson, well before we get started with anything, let's chat for a minute. What's brought you to this decision?" He leaned back in his chair, studying me.
I cleared my throat. "Well, to be honest, I don't really have any options that look a whole lot better. I'm not the college type. I already know that. I want to do something worthwhile with my life."
He nodded. "Well, that's as good a reason as any. Now let me ask you this, have you thought about what job you'd like to do?"
"Uh, not really. I kind of just decided I was gonna do this about half an hour ago."
He laughed. "Right. Well, what are you good at?"
I thought about that for a second. "I'm a great swimmer and I'm good at extreme sports."
Petty Officer Mitchell studied me again for a couple seconds. He nodded his head toward a poster of a group of men in dive gear, machine guns in hand emerging from the water. "Ever heard of a Navy SEAL?"
"A SEAL? Yeah, of course. I'd be suited to be a SEAL?" I asked.
"Well, I don't know. You'd need to score really high on a test called the ASVAB and then pass a physical test during basic training that will ensure you a spot in BUD/S, which stands for Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL Training." He paused, eyeing me, but I remained silent. He went on. "Then you have to make it through basic training and A-School. And then, if you're lucky enough to make it to BUD/S, only about twenty percent of men actually make it through, which means eighty percent fail. So, are you suited to be a SEAL? Not many men are. But if you're a good swimmer and you like sports that are dangerous and take a high level of skill, it's a decent start. But I'll be honest with you, BUD/S is the most rigorous military training on the face of the planet earth. Think on it carefully."
I nodded, furrowing my brow. I didn't need to think on it carefully. My answer came to my lips almost before my brain could process it. "Let's get started," I said.
CHAPTER 14
Grace
I sat on my bed half-heartedly studying. My heart was heavy and I felt a longing inside me that I didn't know what to do with. I missed him, plain and simple. When was this going to get better? It had been a couple days since I'd gotten home from Vegas and it felt like my feelings were intensifying instead of weakening. I had only known him for two and a half days. Didn't it make sense that I could forget him in that amount of time too? I sighed and lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. What was he doing right now? I cringed when I thought of the very real possibility that he was on set again. Then again, he'd told me that he had only made four films in six months and he'd just made one a couple days before. A fierce surge of disgust rose up in me when I pictured him with someone else, even someone he'd never see again. I wanted to scream at the very thought. And then I wanted to throw myself on the floor and cry until I was exhausted and numb. That's what you get when you develop feelings for a porn star. I was an idiot, just like Abby had jokingly called me.