Scratching the Surface, Part 2/2
Scratching the Surface, part II
See previous part for info cause I'm late for my bus! lol
The cell phone vibrated in his coat pocket and he clumsily reached inside to retrieve it. He looked at the name flashing on the screen. Foster.
“Hello, luv” he spoke. Keeping his eyes on the road, he settled the phone between his ear and shoulder and switched the gear, speeding up.
“Hi, Cal”. She sounded chipper, and Cal could feel the smile in her voice as she continued. “Where are you?”
“I’m almost there. I know I’m late. I’m sorry”.
“You know, it’s not a good idea to leave a girl hanging when she’s moving out of her ex-husband’s house”.
He knew she meant that to sound like a reprimand, but her tone implied that she wasn’t pissed at all -though she was indeed eager to leave that place.
“I’ll make it up to you” he responded, then quickly added: “or maybe I’ll just crash at your place next time so that you don’t have to be waiting on me. How does that sound, eh?”
A smile played upon his lips when her answer came with a few seconds’ delay.
“Just get here, Cal”.
He turned the corner and grinned when he caught Gillian on the porch, smiling, one arm crossed over her chest and the other one holding up the phone.
“I am here” he said before he hung up and honked at her, startling her. Gillian shook her head in disbelief and walked down the steps to the edge of the road.
“Hey” he greeted as he climbed out of his car, taking a moment to appreciate her casual look. She was wearing a sleeveless V-necked shirt and denim shorts which showed off her long slim legs, and she was barefooted. It was so odd to see Gillian like this, especially because there was more skin showing than not, that it made Cal wonder whether she was secretly trying to kill him.
He cleared his throat and straightened up.
“Sorry, really” he said, placing his hand on her forearm loosely. “I overslept and I had to take Emily to baseball practice”.
She shook her head. “It’s okay”.
Then her eyes wandered down his body, taking in his appearance. Blue Converses, rugged jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which showed off his biceps - and especially his tattoos. She raised an eyebrow.
Cal held out his arms and his jaw dropped, slack.
“What?” At her lack of response, he shrugged. “I figured if we’re going to be carrying dusty boxes I might as well wear something that can get dirty”, he licked his lips and smiled smugly.
Then he raised his eyebrows, reminded of something else.
“I brought you something” he said, turning back to his car and grabbing something from the passenger’s seat.
He handed Gillian a paper bag, which she took curiously, peeking inside.
“Really, Cal?” she grinned incredulously, looking up. Dangling between her thumb and forefinger was a pair of chopsticks. “It’s 9:30 in the morning”.
He frowned.
“Oh, crap. Wrong bag” Cal replied, scooting into his car seat again and rummaging through the many things littered in there.
A smaller bag in his hand, he stood, snatching the first one from Gillian’s hands. He lifted it.
“This is for later”. Then he held the smaller one out to her. “Here” he said with a triumphant air. “I need you as high on sugar as you can get”.
This earned him a smile and a gentle hand-squeeze.
“Thanks, Cal”.
The look of gratitude in her eyes told him that she knew he was not doing this just because she liked sugary foods.
Her reaction made him want to treat her to these small things every single day if it was necessary; whatever it took to let her know he cared, and that he was there.
“Come on” she said all of a sudden, pointing back to the house over her shoulder. “We’ve got lots of work to do”.
Cal nodded, hands shoved into his pockets, and followed her in.
He looked around and his stomach knotted: the boxes lay scattered around the living-room, which now looked so empty without Gillian’s pictures and canvases filled with flowers. The house seemed colourless, and cold. His only comfort was that this coldness did not belong to her. The colours, the warmth, and in some way, Gillian herself, were packed into these boxes, waiting to find a new and better place.
For some reason, even though it seemed childish for him to think so, the thought of each one containing a little piece of Gillian stirred something inside of him. All of a sudden, he felt the urge to see what was inside the boxes exactly. Fully aware that this was inappropriate, he settled for carrying them out and into the car one by one, with as much care as he could.
“Oh, careful” Gillian told him as he lifted a box and stumbled backwards because of its weight. “I didn’t label that one, sorry”.
“What in the bloody hell have you got here?” he protested, hitching it upwards with a little more effort than he let on.
Gillian looked over her shoulder while she crouched down to tape one of the last boxes and checking it on a list.
“You don’t want to know”.
His eyes went wide and then he regained composure, giving her a crooked smile.
“That’s dirty, Foster”.
Gillian smirked.
“Do you think so, Cal?” she asked him, approaching with movements that seemed to him as if his life was happening in slow motion.
He snorted.
She stood before him, doing her classic hands-on-hips stance, and studied his eyes, an amused smile threatening to break loose.
“It’s just books”.
Cal groaned in disapproval and she resisted the urge to shove him playfully, only because he was carrying one of the heaviest packages.
“I’ve got two more of those, so you better get going” she teased, walking out into the garden to turn the sprinklers off. This elicited another groan from him and he followed her out.
“I will get something in return, yeah?” he asked as he walked up to the back of his car. Gillian’s was already full.
Slightly wobbling with the weight on one arm only, he opened the trunk and slid the box inside, then turned back to Gillian.
She didn’t seem to have heard his question, with her back to him and bent over as she picked something up off the floor. Cal laughed.
“What?” she asked, straightening herself and pushing a strand of hair back from her face.
“Nothing, love”. He shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head to the side. “Just enjoying the view”.
Gillian blushed and smacked his arm, then started into the house. She looked over her shoulder to see Cal following her steps.
“So, since when does Emily play baseball?”
He shrugged.
“Two weeks, I guess? Some of her friends are on the team and she decided to try out”.
“That’s great” Gillian nodded in approval. “It’s gonna be good for her”.
“And hell on Earth for me” Cal grumbled. “I hate waking up early on Saturdays”.
“Cal, we usually work on Saturdays. You’d still have to wake up early” Gillian laughed incredulously.
He frowned and took a step forward, invading her personal space.
“That doesn’t make me like it” he said in exasperation.
Gillian shook her head.
“Fine.”
She checked a few more boxes on her little notebook and looked around, making sure she wasn’t forgetting anything.
“Anyway, I assume you’d take turns with Zoe to give Emily a ride” she continued, glancing at Cal, who was still standing in the threshold. Gillian was getting quite good at handling her expressions, but not enough to hide them from Cal.
“Yeah” he sighed, observing her after the flash of contempt -and jealousy?- at the mention of Zoe. “I guess”.
Gillian turned away when she felt him still studying her face, and changed the subject.
“Come on, these are the last ones” she looked at him quickly and smiled. “I just have to close everything and then we can go”.
Cal watched her race up the staircase and soon heard the sound of the blinds being closed. With a deep breath and a long look around, he set to carrying the last three boxes outside.
***
“I can’t find the keys” Gillian sighed, sticking her hand into her purse. “Hold this”.
She handed Cal a bag and kept searching, while he tried to peep into the new house through the thin curtain covering the glass on the door.
It looked small, but very Gillian.
Several trees and plants surrounded it; it was a brick house just a few feet away from the sidewalk, separated from it by a short staircase. Two lanterns -which were now off- framed the door, and a coir doormat with the word “welcome” on it decorated the flagstone flooring.
Cal held back a grin. That was such a Gillian thing to do, bringing a welcome mat before anything else.
She glanced at him and smiled coyly. “I brought that on Wednesday”.
Cal looked at her as she finally pulled the keys out and stepped on the doorstep to open up.
“Okay, I did call the movers” she admitted. “But only because I needed to get the furniture in here before the rest of the stuff. Come in”.
Cal held his hands up in an I’m-not-judging-you gesture and walked in behind her, taking in his surroundings. The place was very luminous. The walls of the hall were painted green and white, and there was a door leading into the kitchen, and an opening to the living room, which stretched some feet to the left. On the far end of the living room, there was a door which, he assumed, opened up to the corridor and therefore the bathroom and other rooms.
He nodded his approval.
“Nice”.
Gillian stood beside him and grinned, her hands on her hips.
“Thanks”. After a short silence, Cal placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.
“Congratulations”.
Gillian turned and pulled him into a hug, tears forming in her eyes. She pulled away shortly after and wiped a tear with the back of her hand.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to feel about this yet. I should be happy, but - I don’t know. I guess I just can’t believe I’m really going to live alone, you know? On my own”.
Cal smiled sadly and nodded.
“I know”.
He rubbed her arm softly and cupped her face in his hand.
“You’ll get through it, love. It’s gonna be fine”.
She nodded bravely, sniffing a little bit, and then he withdrew his hand.
“What do you want me to bring first?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.
Gillian bit her lip and her eyebrows creased for a moment while she thought about it, looking around.
“Books… And lamps” she started, unconsciously pointing at the different places where those things should go. “…And silverware. We’ll start off here” she smiled. “I’ll be with you in a second, I need to use the bathroom”.
Cal agreed and walked outside while she rushed off in the opposite direction.
He breathed in the cool summer air and squinted when the sun hit his eyes after being inside the house for a little while. He gave a low growl in protest and rubbed his face as he made his way to the car.
He was almost finished unloading all the boxes Gillian had asked him to, when he heard her steps behind him. He turned around.
“Oh hey love. Almost done. Would you give me a hand?”
“Sure”.
They walked inside and started opening the boxes, moving things around, turning on lights and so on, exchanging suggestions and opinions as to where things should be placed, what looked good and what didn’t.
After a few hours, they had finished with the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom. Only the bedroom stuff was left, at least until Gillian bought the rest of the things she needed that Alec had kept.
“Why would you keep those under the coffee table?” Cal asked in mock disgust, motioning to a pile of romance novels Gillian had read time and time again, and had placed there.
She flopped down onto the couch and sipped her orange juice.
“I don’t know. In case I want to read them again, I guess”.
He huffed and sat down next to her, snatching the drink from her hands and sniffing it. He barely let the liquid touch his lips and pulled back, shaking his head.
“There’s no way in hell I’m ever going to be able to drink this”.
Gillian laughed and laid her head against his shoulder, propping her feet up on the table.
“I can fix you a drink if you want. It’s almost lunch time, anyway”.
Cal slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.
“Am I invited?”
“You invited yourself, remember?” Gillian replied, reminding him of the food he’d brought her earlier in the day.
“Oh” he sighed and put his feet up too. “Right you are. On second thought, though, I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to. Although I do think I deserve it, I dare say. You must admit I did a rather good job today”.
Gillian nodded against him and pointed to a picture on the wall above the fireplace.
“That looks beautiful”.
“It does”.
There was a moment of silence and Gillian spoke again.
“Thank you, Cal, really. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do this on my own”.
“Well, I know I’m as good as it gets, but you could have hired someone to help you” Cal teased.
She smacked his leg playfully and sipped from her glass again.
“I’m serious. I never thought, after I married Alec, you know-” she stopped short and breathed in, “- I never thought I would end up like this-”
“Like what, love?” Cal cut her off. “It’s not wrong, what happened to you. I mean it is terrible, when it happens. You don’t get married in hopes of getting divorced afterwards, you know I know, yeah?”
He looked into her eyes and cursed whatever God there might be above for not cutting her some slack. She was one of the best people, if not the best person, he had known in his whole life, and here she was, feeling guilty about a crime she hadn’t committed.
“Listen to me, love. Don’t beat yourself up over this. It’s not your fault-” his eyebrows wrinkled in sadness for her. “-or maybe it is, a little bit. Relationships are a two-way street. But this… it’s not something you can foresee. And I promise you will get past it, I know you will”.
She smiled at him genuinely, thankfully, and kissed his cheek.
“I know. I have you as proof”.
“Yeah” he nodded, pulling her closer to him. “Yes you do”.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Cal felt something move inside of him. Something big. Something he hadn’t had the guts to acknowledge earlier. And right this moment, looking at her, really seeing her, seeing every freckle on her nose, every coloured strand in her eyes, he felt like he was scratching the surface of their relationship, giving way to something deeper and much more intimate that had always been there but had never been brought to light.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by her slight cough and clearing of the throat.
“So, you’re staying, then?” she asked, standing up and starting towards the kitchen.
He took a second before answering.
“Yes I am”.
“Good” she replied, opening the kitchen door. She looked back at him before disappearing through. “Thanks, again”.
“You’re welcome”.
Scratching the surface
You better come up for air
A new experience to get you there
See previous part for info cause I'm late for my bus! lol
The cell phone vibrated in his coat pocket and he clumsily reached inside to retrieve it. He looked at the name flashing on the screen. Foster.
“Hello, luv” he spoke. Keeping his eyes on the road, he settled the phone between his ear and shoulder and switched the gear, speeding up.
“Hi, Cal”. She sounded chipper, and Cal could feel the smile in her voice as she continued. “Where are you?”
“I’m almost there. I know I’m late. I’m sorry”.
“You know, it’s not a good idea to leave a girl hanging when she’s moving out of her ex-husband’s house”.
He knew she meant that to sound like a reprimand, but her tone implied that she wasn’t pissed at all -though she was indeed eager to leave that place.
“I’ll make it up to you” he responded, then quickly added: “or maybe I’ll just crash at your place next time so that you don’t have to be waiting on me. How does that sound, eh?”
A smile played upon his lips when her answer came with a few seconds’ delay.
“Just get here, Cal”.
He turned the corner and grinned when he caught Gillian on the porch, smiling, one arm crossed over her chest and the other one holding up the phone.
“I am here” he said before he hung up and honked at her, startling her. Gillian shook her head in disbelief and walked down the steps to the edge of the road.
“Hey” he greeted as he climbed out of his car, taking a moment to appreciate her casual look. She was wearing a sleeveless V-necked shirt and denim shorts which showed off her long slim legs, and she was barefooted. It was so odd to see Gillian like this, especially because there was more skin showing than not, that it made Cal wonder whether she was secretly trying to kill him.
He cleared his throat and straightened up.
“Sorry, really” he said, placing his hand on her forearm loosely. “I overslept and I had to take Emily to baseball practice”.
She shook her head. “It’s okay”.
Then her eyes wandered down his body, taking in his appearance. Blue Converses, rugged jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which showed off his biceps - and especially his tattoos. She raised an eyebrow.
Cal held out his arms and his jaw dropped, slack.
“What?” At her lack of response, he shrugged. “I figured if we’re going to be carrying dusty boxes I might as well wear something that can get dirty”, he licked his lips and smiled smugly.
Then he raised his eyebrows, reminded of something else.
“I brought you something” he said, turning back to his car and grabbing something from the passenger’s seat.
He handed Gillian a paper bag, which she took curiously, peeking inside.
“Really, Cal?” she grinned incredulously, looking up. Dangling between her thumb and forefinger was a pair of chopsticks. “It’s 9:30 in the morning”.
He frowned.
“Oh, crap. Wrong bag” Cal replied, scooting into his car seat again and rummaging through the many things littered in there.
A smaller bag in his hand, he stood, snatching the first one from Gillian’s hands. He lifted it.
“This is for later”. Then he held the smaller one out to her. “Here” he said with a triumphant air. “I need you as high on sugar as you can get”.
This earned him a smile and a gentle hand-squeeze.
“Thanks, Cal”.
The look of gratitude in her eyes told him that she knew he was not doing this just because she liked sugary foods.
Her reaction made him want to treat her to these small things every single day if it was necessary; whatever it took to let her know he cared, and that he was there.
“Come on” she said all of a sudden, pointing back to the house over her shoulder. “We’ve got lots of work to do”.
Cal nodded, hands shoved into his pockets, and followed her in.
He looked around and his stomach knotted: the boxes lay scattered around the living-room, which now looked so empty without Gillian’s pictures and canvases filled with flowers. The house seemed colourless, and cold. His only comfort was that this coldness did not belong to her. The colours, the warmth, and in some way, Gillian herself, were packed into these boxes, waiting to find a new and better place.
For some reason, even though it seemed childish for him to think so, the thought of each one containing a little piece of Gillian stirred something inside of him. All of a sudden, he felt the urge to see what was inside the boxes exactly. Fully aware that this was inappropriate, he settled for carrying them out and into the car one by one, with as much care as he could.
“Oh, careful” Gillian told him as he lifted a box and stumbled backwards because of its weight. “I didn’t label that one, sorry”.
“What in the bloody hell have you got here?” he protested, hitching it upwards with a little more effort than he let on.
Gillian looked over her shoulder while she crouched down to tape one of the last boxes and checking it on a list.
“You don’t want to know”.
His eyes went wide and then he regained composure, giving her a crooked smile.
“That’s dirty, Foster”.
Gillian smirked.
“Do you think so, Cal?” she asked him, approaching with movements that seemed to him as if his life was happening in slow motion.
He snorted.
She stood before him, doing her classic hands-on-hips stance, and studied his eyes, an amused smile threatening to break loose.
“It’s just books”.
Cal groaned in disapproval and she resisted the urge to shove him playfully, only because he was carrying one of the heaviest packages.
“I’ve got two more of those, so you better get going” she teased, walking out into the garden to turn the sprinklers off. This elicited another groan from him and he followed her out.
“I will get something in return, yeah?” he asked as he walked up to the back of his car. Gillian’s was already full.
Slightly wobbling with the weight on one arm only, he opened the trunk and slid the box inside, then turned back to Gillian.
She didn’t seem to have heard his question, with her back to him and bent over as she picked something up off the floor. Cal laughed.
“What?” she asked, straightening herself and pushing a strand of hair back from her face.
“Nothing, love”. He shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head to the side. “Just enjoying the view”.
Gillian blushed and smacked his arm, then started into the house. She looked over her shoulder to see Cal following her steps.
“So, since when does Emily play baseball?”
He shrugged.
“Two weeks, I guess? Some of her friends are on the team and she decided to try out”.
“That’s great” Gillian nodded in approval. “It’s gonna be good for her”.
“And hell on Earth for me” Cal grumbled. “I hate waking up early on Saturdays”.
“Cal, we usually work on Saturdays. You’d still have to wake up early” Gillian laughed incredulously.
He frowned and took a step forward, invading her personal space.
“That doesn’t make me like it” he said in exasperation.
Gillian shook her head.
“Fine.”
She checked a few more boxes on her little notebook and looked around, making sure she wasn’t forgetting anything.
“Anyway, I assume you’d take turns with Zoe to give Emily a ride” she continued, glancing at Cal, who was still standing in the threshold. Gillian was getting quite good at handling her expressions, but not enough to hide them from Cal.
“Yeah” he sighed, observing her after the flash of contempt -and jealousy?- at the mention of Zoe. “I guess”.
Gillian turned away when she felt him still studying her face, and changed the subject.
“Come on, these are the last ones” she looked at him quickly and smiled. “I just have to close everything and then we can go”.
Cal watched her race up the staircase and soon heard the sound of the blinds being closed. With a deep breath and a long look around, he set to carrying the last three boxes outside.
***
“I can’t find the keys” Gillian sighed, sticking her hand into her purse. “Hold this”.
She handed Cal a bag and kept searching, while he tried to peep into the new house through the thin curtain covering the glass on the door.
It looked small, but very Gillian.
Several trees and plants surrounded it; it was a brick house just a few feet away from the sidewalk, separated from it by a short staircase. Two lanterns -which were now off- framed the door, and a coir doormat with the word “welcome” on it decorated the flagstone flooring.
Cal held back a grin. That was such a Gillian thing to do, bringing a welcome mat before anything else.
She glanced at him and smiled coyly. “I brought that on Wednesday”.
Cal looked at her as she finally pulled the keys out and stepped on the doorstep to open up.
“Okay, I did call the movers” she admitted. “But only because I needed to get the furniture in here before the rest of the stuff. Come in”.
Cal held his hands up in an I’m-not-judging-you gesture and walked in behind her, taking in his surroundings. The place was very luminous. The walls of the hall were painted green and white, and there was a door leading into the kitchen, and an opening to the living room, which stretched some feet to the left. On the far end of the living room, there was a door which, he assumed, opened up to the corridor and therefore the bathroom and other rooms.
He nodded his approval.
“Nice”.
Gillian stood beside him and grinned, her hands on her hips.
“Thanks”. After a short silence, Cal placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.
“Congratulations”.
Gillian turned and pulled him into a hug, tears forming in her eyes. She pulled away shortly after and wiped a tear with the back of her hand.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to feel about this yet. I should be happy, but - I don’t know. I guess I just can’t believe I’m really going to live alone, you know? On my own”.
Cal smiled sadly and nodded.
“I know”.
He rubbed her arm softly and cupped her face in his hand.
“You’ll get through it, love. It’s gonna be fine”.
She nodded bravely, sniffing a little bit, and then he withdrew his hand.
“What do you want me to bring first?” he asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.
Gillian bit her lip and her eyebrows creased for a moment while she thought about it, looking around.
“Books… And lamps” she started, unconsciously pointing at the different places where those things should go. “…And silverware. We’ll start off here” she smiled. “I’ll be with you in a second, I need to use the bathroom”.
Cal agreed and walked outside while she rushed off in the opposite direction.
He breathed in the cool summer air and squinted when the sun hit his eyes after being inside the house for a little while. He gave a low growl in protest and rubbed his face as he made his way to the car.
He was almost finished unloading all the boxes Gillian had asked him to, when he heard her steps behind him. He turned around.
“Oh hey love. Almost done. Would you give me a hand?”
“Sure”.
They walked inside and started opening the boxes, moving things around, turning on lights and so on, exchanging suggestions and opinions as to where things should be placed, what looked good and what didn’t.
After a few hours, they had finished with the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom. Only the bedroom stuff was left, at least until Gillian bought the rest of the things she needed that Alec had kept.
“Why would you keep those under the coffee table?” Cal asked in mock disgust, motioning to a pile of romance novels Gillian had read time and time again, and had placed there.
She flopped down onto the couch and sipped her orange juice.
“I don’t know. In case I want to read them again, I guess”.
He huffed and sat down next to her, snatching the drink from her hands and sniffing it. He barely let the liquid touch his lips and pulled back, shaking his head.
“There’s no way in hell I’m ever going to be able to drink this”.
Gillian laughed and laid her head against his shoulder, propping her feet up on the table.
“I can fix you a drink if you want. It’s almost lunch time, anyway”.
Cal slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.
“Am I invited?”
“You invited yourself, remember?” Gillian replied, reminding him of the food he’d brought her earlier in the day.
“Oh” he sighed and put his feet up too. “Right you are. On second thought, though, I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to. Although I do think I deserve it, I dare say. You must admit I did a rather good job today”.
Gillian nodded against him and pointed to a picture on the wall above the fireplace.
“That looks beautiful”.
“It does”.
There was a moment of silence and Gillian spoke again.
“Thank you, Cal, really. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do this on my own”.
“Well, I know I’m as good as it gets, but you could have hired someone to help you” Cal teased.
She smacked his leg playfully and sipped from her glass again.
“I’m serious. I never thought, after I married Alec, you know-” she stopped short and breathed in, “- I never thought I would end up like this-”
“Like what, love?” Cal cut her off. “It’s not wrong, what happened to you. I mean it is terrible, when it happens. You don’t get married in hopes of getting divorced afterwards, you know I know, yeah?”
He looked into her eyes and cursed whatever God there might be above for not cutting her some slack. She was one of the best people, if not the best person, he had known in his whole life, and here she was, feeling guilty about a crime she hadn’t committed.
“Listen to me, love. Don’t beat yourself up over this. It’s not your fault-” his eyebrows wrinkled in sadness for her. “-or maybe it is, a little bit. Relationships are a two-way street. But this… it’s not something you can foresee. And I promise you will get past it, I know you will”.
She smiled at him genuinely, thankfully, and kissed his cheek.
“I know. I have you as proof”.
“Yeah” he nodded, pulling her closer to him. “Yes you do”.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Cal felt something move inside of him. Something big. Something he hadn’t had the guts to acknowledge earlier. And right this moment, looking at her, really seeing her, seeing every freckle on her nose, every coloured strand in her eyes, he felt like he was scratching the surface of their relationship, giving way to something deeper and much more intimate that had always been there but had never been brought to light.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by her slight cough and clearing of the throat.
“So, you’re staying, then?” she asked, standing up and starting towards the kitchen.
He took a second before answering.
“Yes I am”.
“Good” she replied, opening the kitchen door. She looked back at him before disappearing through. “Thanks, again”.
“You’re welcome”.
Scratching the surface
You better come up for air
A new experience to get you there