After shit went down ten years ago, I swore I’d never go back.
But I did. Walked right into this life. Into a cage I knew I’d never get out of. It was personal then.
Something I swore I’d never let happen again.
Then I laid eyes on him.
Limping into that diner, flinging those wide gray eyes around like weapons from beneath a snow-speckled fur hood. Sometimes, I still thought about the way his feet dangled over the floor, legs not even long enough to touch the ground.
An adorable party for one that I couldn’t ignore.
I glanced down at the bandage covering the bullet wound, then the one plastered to the inside of my elbow.
He was more than personal. He was someone I was willing to bleed for.
Andhooty-hoo,did I fuck it all up.
But what in the mini-muffin hell was I supposed to do when I saw him standing in the Neon Reef with a pizza box half his size?
Yes, I said mini-muffin hell. The kind with those fake blueberries. Ireallyneeded a snack.
A cigarette would be better.
I walked to the end of the block and hailed another cab. The entire time, I fought the urge to look back. And it wasn’t because of the view. This place was a certified dump. Leaving him here was causing me actual pain.
“You already took my heart. I’m not giving you anything else.”
Oh yeah, I heard. He was the one with the hearing problem, not me. This wasno exitterritory, so those words lived inside me now. Caged up. Locked down. A permanent echo that noteven time could quiet.
If I were good, I’d keep driving (or, you know, riding) and never look back. Find a way to return that heart to sender.
“Hey, pull over here,” I said to the driver.
He slammed his brakes and swerved to the curb.
“Wait here. Leave the meter running. I’ll be less than five.”
He nodded, and I jogged into the small bodega on the corner, the bell on the door announcing my arrival.
“Shirt and shoes required!” the woman behind the counter hollered.
“You know you’re enjoying the view,” I hollered back and grabbed four bags of mixed nuts and some lightly salted cashews off a nearby stand. On my way back from grabbing a water (status: hydrated king), something caught the corner of my eye, and I stopped abruptly. My bare feet squeaked on the old linoleum floor.
Good thing I was already on antibiotics.
After debating for half a second, I snatched the item off the shelf and then unloaded my haul onto the counter. The woman glared, and I gave her my best smile.
Sighing, she rang up the items, and I paid with my phone.
The second I slid into the back seat, the driver craned around and looked at the items filling my lap. “Man, you ain’t got on a shirt or shoes, but you bought mixed nuts and?—”
“And after we talk about my choices, we’ll do yours. Specifically, that you look like you grunt a lot in the bathroom.”
Redness bloomed over his face. Looked like embarrassment.
I hitched a thumb toward the bodega. “I can grab you some meds for that.”
He barreled out into traffic, and I ripped open the cashews and poured half the bag in my mouth. Bold of him to start something he clearly couldn’t finish.
