What you are afraid to do is a clear indication of the next thing you need to do. (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

I didn’t die. I didn’t intend to. I landed in the tree, albeit without grace. My heart is in my stomach just remembering the leap. The airborne moment with nothing below me – it was euphoria.

I climbed and fell out of the tree. With a novel set of bruises, cuts, scratches, and a swollen black eye, I walked through the courtyard again. Nicky was gone now. UCLA boy was swimming in the pool when he seen me.

“Honey,” he called out, “What happened to you? Sweet Jesus!”

“I just fell,” I dismissed with a nonchalant wave. It wasn’t really a lie. I fell out of the tree even if I did jump into it.

He didn’t buy it and that night when Nicky stumbled through the courtyard, sufficiently intoxicated, UCLA boy was waiting. He beat Nicky until lights switched on and people came out. He was pulled off Nicky who was lying on the cobblestone courtyard deck with puddles of his blood beside him.