Swimming Upstream, Slowly by Melissa Clark

Author:Melissa Clark [Melissa, Clark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-49155-8
Publisher: Crown
Published: 2006-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

fourteen

Sasha loved the smell of home. Her apartment was surrounded by two eucalyptus trees that gave off a scent that was woodsy, sharp, and spicy, and she reveled in the fragrance. Today had been a day of baby steps, and as she walked into her home she felt a small sense of accomplishment. She dropped her date book on the coffee table in the living room and picked up the phone to check messages.

There was one new message and it was from Erika. She was cold and curt at first, announcing who it was and saying they hadn't spoken in a while. Then she warmed up. She apologized for abandoning Sasha at such a crossroads in her life. Her mom had made her realize that now wasn't an appropriate time to hold a grudge. Her mom? That meant that she knew about Sasha sleeping with Blake and about Sasha's pregnancy. There would soon come a time when Sasha would have to tell her own parents about everything that was going on, and she didn't like that notion at all.

Sasha hung up the phone and picked it up again to make a call, but there was no dial tone. “Hello?” she asked.

“Hello,” said a voice. A man's.

“Hello?”

“Well, hello again,” the voice said.

Sasha stayed silent. The male voice broke the silence. “It's Scott! Is this Sasha?”

“It is.” She didn't know any Scotts.

“I'm in the darkroom watching your image float to life.”

Of course. Scott the photographer with the erect lens.

“That's poetic,” she said, smiling as she sat down on the couch.

“Photography is poetry,” he said. “If it's done right.”

“How'd you get my number?”

“A poet always knows.”

“C'mon.”

“One of your producers gave me a cast and crew sheet. I said I needed it for name spellings. I'm good, right?”

“S-a-s-h-a.”

“S-a-l-t-e-r. Let's have dinner,” he suggested. “D-i-n-n-e-r.”

Cute Elvis Presley Mouth wanted to have dinner with her? “I was just about to order in.” She didn't mean to imply that he should come over.

“Great,” he said. “I'll join you.”

“No, no,” Sasha said. “Let's go out.”

“I live up behind the Whisky,” he said. “And you?”

“Laurel Canyon,” she said, delighted that they were practically neighbors.

“Do you eat meat?” he asked.

“I eat meat,” she said.

“I know a great grill-your-own-food place down on La Cienega.”

“Gyu-Kaku,” she said. “I love it.”

“You know it?”

“Of course.”

“I just love that you eat meat,” he said. “So many L.A. girls don't touch the stuff. ‘I'm a vegan,’ ” he said in a mock-girlie voice.

She ate meat, but she couldn't drink. Oh, well. She'd cross that bridge when she got there.

“Meet there or I pick you up?” he asked.

Sasha considered it. “Meet there.” She loved their phone chemistry, but what if he was a creepy kind of date and she had to escape?

“I'm not insulted,” he said. “It's smart for a woman to have her own escape vehicle.”

She laughed.

“Now call your best friend and have her call your cell phone in an hour. If you're having a bad time, she'll be your out.”

She loved this guy, but she

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