it was late winter, early spring and i could breathe better than i had in autumn. there was an open blue sky covering every road, peeking through the empty branches. usually when i started my walk down the block to his apartment in the mornings, the pale white of my wrists faded into the snow. i could pretend i was an ethereal princess, lithe and lovely, even as my heels cracked against the pavement, even as the drab gray of my coat drowned the blue of my eyes.
today though, sickly yellow fistfuls of grass shot up from the ground in spurts of confidence. i bent to appraise their struggle with my fingertips. the blades were rough and uneven, but firm in their future path. i stood and scuffed my feet against the melting slush, stepping carefully around any weeds that were weaving upwards until i reached his apartment stoop. it was still covered with ice and i was uncertain where to plant my feet when i heard a yell from the window. i looked up as a small key dropped on the ice and slid across to my toes to see his mouth turned up in a smirk. i hated the expression on his face. it was the same one he made when i was going to be late to work, when he finished the crossword before me, when he held my wrists down against the pillows.
i dropped the key, he called out.
obviously, i murmured under my breath and bent to retrieve it.
i kicked my heels against the dirty floor as i entered the apartment, glancing at the piles of crumbled leaf pieces still embedded in the floor mat. i could see his feet on the stained coffee table in the living room, eyes stuck on the television. the peeling wallpaper made me curl my fingers into fists and i took a step forward.
i’m done, i said evenly.
he couldn’t hear me because the television in the living room was too loud.
what, he yelled. i took a breath.
i’m leaving. i’m getting the fuck out of here, you asshole.
what, he yelled. i can’t hear you.
i spat into the ice on the doorstep as i hefted a box full of my underwear, my books, a toothbrush. i didn’t have much money, maybe a five dollar bill and some change. enough for the bus fare, at any rate. the long walk home didn’t seem nearly as enticing with the weight of my belongings in my arms. i glanced right and headed towards the nearest bus stop.
i sat on the thawing bench and watched the dirty snow water running down the street to the drain. it would travel pipes and sewers and streams but eventually it would become the ocean, ebbing and surging at will. i thought about the wind, how easily it changed directions.
when the bus came, i paid my fare and sat in the back. it was warmer back there and i wasn’t getting off anytime soon.
Callie Ingram graduated from Rockville High School in June and will attend Ursinus College in the fall.
