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The bar doors opened and the patrons started filing in. I would be swamped waiting tables and serving drinks and glad I didn’t have to think about this conversation anymore. It gave me a headache.
The headache persisted six hours later at closing time, but at least I knew I would be home in thirty minutes and finally in bed where I could forget everything for a little while. I wanted to forget who I was, who I should be, and who I wanted to be. It was all so confusing, these different versions of myself—all still me—but all so very different. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“Jim, I’m heading out,” I called to my manager.
“See you tomorrow night, kid,” he said, counting a stack of bills.
I’d worked nearly every night this week and I was looking forward to going straight to sleep. Even though it was only one in the morning and I might get a couple of hours of studying in, I decided sleep would be more practical.
I walked past the parking lot as I’d done all week. My car broke down, unfortunately, and I couldn’t afford the rental, but my mechanic said I should have it back by tomorrow night.
I took the main roads, the ones well-lit, and held my phone in one hand while the other gripped the bottle of pepper spray in my jacket pocket.
As I walked past the convenience store a block from my home, I felt it again, as I had all week. A tingle at the back of my neck and all along my scalp. It felt as though someone was watching me and my body knew, even if my eyes couldn’t see anyone out there.
I walked faster past a dark alleyway and pretended to be talking to someone on my phone. Someone kicked a can behind me but I didn’t turn around. I simply sped up.
Then a man popped up, out of nowhere, about twenty feet in front of me, and I gasped. He wore a black beanie and a puffy vest. He stared at me for a few minutes while I decided on my next move. I could walk past him, but I didn’t want to get any closer to him. I crossed the street instead, keeping as much distance between us as possible.
I turned my head to check for cars when a man grabbed me from behind.
He squeezed my arms, his fingers pressing into my flesh, and tried to pull me toward him.
I stomped on his foot.
“Ow,” he hollered, but I didn’t wait to see what he would do next.
I whipped out my bottle and sprayed the motherfucker right in the eyes.
“Ahhh… fuck… fuck… what the hell is that?”
Oh shit.
Ryan?
He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands and continued to swear in the most colorful descriptions I’d heard in a long time.
“What are you doing here?” I shouted, inexplicably angry with him.
“Shit… this stuff fucking stings!” He tried opening his eyes but covered them with his hands again.
Looking around us, I noticed no one on the street. The other guy must have high-tailed it out of here before he was my next victim. I grabbed Ryan’s coat sleeve and dragged him toward my house.
My father was at home sleeping, but if we were very quiet, I could probably get Ryan washed up without him noticing.
When we reached my front porch, I quickly unlocked the door. “Shh. My dad is sleeping and I don’t want to give him a heart attack. Okay?”
He nodded solemnly. “Wouldn’t want him to know what a bloodthirsty woman you are, huh?”
“Actually, he’d probably be really proud of me, but I still don’t want him to wake up.”
“What’s wrong with you people?” he muttered as he walked through my narrow hallway.
I led him to the bathroom and turned on the tap. He greedily washed his eyes, rubbing and splashing. I reached for the towel hanging on a rack behind the door and passed it to him.
After drying his face, he blinked continuously, squeezing his eyes open and shut. I turned on the lights to get a better look at him.
“Ow,” he cried and dropped his head.
