The Definition of Time

Chapter 32

I clench a key in between my fingers
when there is a man walking behind me
I wear loose shirts and long shorts
and run away from catcalls
and hide in bathroom stalls
to avoid rejecting a boy
and carry pepper spray with me everywhere i go.

men do not define me.
but sometimes i am still afraid
because they can hurt me.

November 6, 2014

When Josh and I pull apart and return to opposite sides of the table, I can feel the loss of him in every molecule of my body. With Collin, I felt wanted; with Josh, I feel belonging. One was temporary, the other feels timeless.

The evening passes in this sort of ethereal reverie; everything feels hazy, the edges merely muted shadows. It's almost as if magic has fallen on us for the evening. We laugh, eat too much, and talk like old friends. When Chloe shows up, her hair in a halo of curls and a dimpled smile on her face, she's brimming with energy.

"Oh, guys, so sorry I'm late. I started reading Anna Karenina on the bus on my way, and I got so into it that I missed my stop." She sits down with a huff, and I recognize the outline of a large book in her bag.

Josh laughs at her. "No wonder you and Rachel get along so well."

Chloe laughs when she sees Luis and Jordan caught up in each other and ignoring the rest of us. "I see you two are having a good night."

Jordan turns towards us. "Oh, hey, Chlo. I didn't see you come in." Jordan's eyes sparkle as she looks back at Luis. "I was a little...distracted."

"We couldn't tell," I retort with a roll of my eyes.

"Oh shut up," Jordan bites back and then plants a quick kiss on Luis.

My phone buzzes on the table, and I jump up. "I'll be right back, give me a sec."

As I walk to the corner of the room where I'll only bother the more drunken patrons of the bar, I glance at my phone to see who's calling. Collin. I question whether not I should answer, but I haven't heard from him since he abandoned me in the parking lot, and I'm curious.

"Hello?" I answer tentatively.

"Rachel Evans." His words are slurred, but I would know his voice anywhere.

"Collin? Uh, why did you call me?"

I hear garbled words on the other end of the phone, and I cover my ear, descending into a darkened hallway of the bar to try to find enough quiet to hear him.

"Rachel Evans," Collin says again with a harsh, embittered laugh. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, the last tme I saw you, you abandoned me in a parking lot."

"The last time I saw you, you screwed me over." His voice is rising, and guilt slams me like a familiar hammer into an anvil.

I sigh, reticent to rehash the past. "What do you want?"

"I...I just want to tell you that you suck." His voice is slurring quietly now, and I wonder just how wasted he is. "You promised you would try to make us work. You promised."

I remember that night, leaning against his car. I promised I would try, and I did try, I just didn't succeed.

"Collin, I already apologized." Guilt fills me for the umpteenth time. "What more can I do? I...I never meant to hurt you."

"You can feel the same pain you gave me," he rasps, his voice steadying. "You can open your own chest. Cut your wrists. Throw yourself on a railroad track. Then maybe you'd understand."