Henry Fisher

Mambo's Smoothie

I pushed through the smudged glass doors. It was just after midday and the sun was peeking through the clouds. I had worked up a good sweat playing hoops, and the L.A. breeze melded with my postgame endorphins to give me goosebumps on my walk home. I had walked this same mile hundreds of times, and today was no different. I popped my earbuds in and pumped up the new Cole World album Zeke had ripped onto my iPhone for me, a classic best friend move.