Moon Tower

1.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt...It's just...Can I help you with that?"

***

I had come into the diner to pick up lunch when I heard the bickering.

The weather in Malibu wasn't cold, but the fog hadn't quite burned off either, leaving a slight chill in the air. On my walk back from the beach, I slipped my sweatshirt on, keeping my shorts off so my bikini bottoms could dry. I silently prayed that the top of my swimsuit dried enough that it wouldn't leave any embarrassing marks behind.

I was meant to swing by earlier, but the swells were too good and I was too stubborn to give them up, despite getting pummeled over and over again by the waves that were nothing less than unforgiving. I hadn't mastered surfing yet, but that didn't mean I would stop trying.

I didn't normally come to this diner, but Niall mentioned that this place had good food, and when we were working out what we were going to do last week. I told him it was close enough to the beach I frequented when I was in Malibu that I could grab us lunch when I was done being wiped out one too many times and then pop over to his house so we could catch up.

The diner was cute. It didn't have that 1950s feel that many diners often had, more like a step up from the shacks on the beach fronts back home. I had called ahead of time to place our orders, seeing as I was already running late and I didn't want to keep Niall waiting any longer than he had to, our time together as limited as it was.

When I sat down at a table to wait for my order to be called—burgers and fries for the both of us, a coke for me and a chocolate shake for him—I saw them. They were sitting at a table a little ways away from mine. One of the guys, sporting a full beard and hair down to his shoulders, a little shorter than my own, seemed to be arguing with his friend sitting across from him. Not thinking much of it, I went back to scrolling on my phone and answering some texts I had gotten while I was out on the water.

My order was finally called. As I was picking it up and thanking the girl who gave it to me, a gracious smile on my face, I heard what the two men were bickering about.

"How could you have left it at your house?" The guy with long hair said. "You've literally been wearing it every day for the past three weeks."

I watched, curious, as the man's friend ran a hand through his dark hair. "I know but I was in a rush to meet you, and I forgot it! Now could you please help me figure out how to wrap this around my wrist?" My curiosity peaked when I heard a British accent come from the bearded man's friend. I looked over to see what they were bickering about and smiled to myself a little.

I could finally see the dude's friend's side profile, widening my eyes a bit as I did so, but then I saw what was in his hands. He was holding a roll of white athletic tape, and when I looked at their table, I noticed the crumpled up bits of tape that made their previously failed attempts very evident.

From my time spent in LA, I knew that most celebrities found this city (aside from certain pockets) the one place they could go without being disturbed; it was the one place where the people who live here were so used to seeing famous people walking around that they knew not to bother them. But it was clear from the bearded man and his very famous friend that they were struggling, and I was more than qualified to help. So as I was walking towards the exit, I made the executive decision to stop at their table.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt...I just...Can I help you with that?"

The two friends looked up at me, surprise eclipsing their faces. "It's just, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, and I would've felt bad if I didn't say anything knowing that I could help. I'm a physical therapist? Well, technically I'm still in school for physical therapy, but I'm almost done. But I can most certainly wrap a wrist. I also spent some time as an athletic trainer? You don't have to say yes, I just thought I would offer because it looks like you really need it?"