I've Never Told A Lie

I wake up at 4:28 AM every day. No more, no less and that’s the way it’s always been. It’s the perfect time to look out my little square of a window and see the faintest hint of pink of the dark canvas of sky, looking at the promise of morning. And it’s the best time to run, feeling the faint whispers of night surround me as I quietly sweat. I sigh, leaning away from my window to leave the warm cocoon of sheets and stumble into my princess-pink bathroom. I yawn as I sit at the edge of the tub and pull my cat, Mr. Sheldon, out of the sink. As I change into my running shorts I pause to look in the mirror then smooth back my hair into a headband, grab my iPod, then quietly close the door.

The rhythmic smacking of my feet against the cold pavement eases me into my zone and I feel unstoppable. As I power along to Christina Aguilera, something abruptly brings me back to the early March morning. About a foot away, a dark shape in a pink bra is spilled out on the sidewalk. Hurrying forward, I see it’s a teenaged boy, one hand around a crushed red cup, the other peacefully resting on his chest which sports a pink push-up bra. A sharpie tattoo on his face proudly declares GAY and quiet snores tell me he’s not dead. As I step forward, he suddenly stirs and sits up facing away from me.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

He turns and looks at directly at me and smiles sleepily. I suddenly feel embarrassingly conscious of my bright yellow running shorts. He ruffles his messy brown hair and looks at me sideways, groans and flops back down.

“Umm,” I think of something to say, “what’s your name?”

“Alex,” mumbles the boy, “What’s yours?”

“Taylor,” I look down at Alex while re-adjusting my headband.

“See you around, Taylor,” he looks up at me and smiles again.

Not sure, of what to say, I turn and head back home, hearing the Alex’s words in my head. See you around… see you around.