Running on nothing but an apple for breakfast, and a few cigarettes at lunch, I didn't have the fuel or the stamina to win the race.
Every step I took forward, Bonnie took five, seven - ten steps further. She was the literal incarnation of Alice's white rabbit; impossible to catch. No matter how hard I pushed myself, I couldn't eliminate the distance between burned. I wanted badly to quit, but with every breath I inhaled, I was struck with the image of Bonnie's face during her last visit; tears welling up before she darted off.
I figured if I gave her some space, she'd have a chance to relieve herself of whatever upset her that day. I thought she'd message me after some time to apologize or to explain the situation to me clearer. But after two weeks and no word, I started to question if it had something to do with me; something I did without realizing it.
I was confident I could resolve the issue if I saw her in person, rather than through texts. Especially since she'd been ignoring my messages all that time.
I never considered she'd go running off after seeing my face.
"Bon, wait!" I called out between pants as she stopped at a cross walk with her friend, frantically pressing on a button for the lights to change. "Bonnie!" I called again. She didn't look back.
Then the walk-symbol glowed white.
The distance was too far at that point. I was certain that by the time I got down there, those lights would change again and the distance would only increase to an impossible length to shorten.
There was only one option left to possibly secure a win.
I had to throw the race.
"Fuck!" I yelped after throwing myself on the floor, trying to fake a fall – only to skid down, into a fire hydrant, banging the side of my skull into it.
I clutched my head, curling into a ball on the sidewalk and questioning my own sanity. Strangely enough, there was something familiar about the whole situation, like de-ja-vu. But I couldn't remember the last time I had gone to such lengths for a girl. Or rather, I didn't want to remember.
"What are you doing?"
I opened my eyes to snow strands dancing in the wind, brushing against a pink face contorted into a worried expression. Her head glistened under the suns light, glowing like a halo; an angel's essence.
"Isn't that my line?" I tried masking the throbbing pain with a smile and extended my hand to her. "You going to leave me down here?"
Her brows furrowed a bit, less worried and more peeved at my not-so-critical state. But she took my hand anyway, helping me up.
"See! She's not dead! I told you she'd be fine," her friend said at her side, tugging on Bonnie's arm after I returned to my feet.
"We had to be sure," Bonnie insisted quietly.
"We didn't have to do anything. People don't die from bumping into—"
"I'm assuming you're Tasha?" I guessed.
Her faced flushed suddenly. "H-How did you—"
"Bonnie mentioned you a few times," I explained, based on the bits of information Bonnie shared on our date. "Only good things though. I promise. I think she's really lucky to have a friend like you."
"Yes, well, um—" she cleared her throat and locked arms with Bonnie, linking her tightly at her side. "Of course, she is."
"You mind if I steal her for a minute?"
"Um," Tasha glanced over at Bonnie. Her peeved expression avoided both of us. "I don't think that's a good idea."
I turned to Bonnie, trying to find her eyes behind her bangs. "Just five minutes."
"I have plans," Bonnie answered.
"Two minutes?"
"Look," Her friend came in between us, blocking Bonnie's face. "You can't just storm after us and assume you can whisk her away and smooth things over by pouting and begging if she doesn't want to—"
"Please?" I redirected my method onto Tasha instead, pouting with the usual pathetic-puppy-dog-look that always guaranteed me anything whenever I threw it at a girl. She put up a bit of resistance, but after several seconds, her stance crumbled.
"Bon, maybe you should just hear her out?" She suggested, unhooking herself from Bonnie as she stepped off to the side.
"What? Whose side are you on now?" Bonnie grumbled.
"It's only two minutes. I'll put my timer on," she glared at me on her way down the sidewalk and held up two fingers, mouthing the words "two minutes" before she turned her back to us.
"Tasha, wait—" Bonnie tried to follow her, but I quickly seized her wrist.
"Bon, please—"
She wrenched her hand free, glaring at me. "It's Bonnie," she insisted harshly.
"Bonnie," I corrected myself. "Look, whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry. Okay?"
She sighed, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest. Avoiding my eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Then why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not. I'm just busy." She turned to leave again, but I quickly moved in front of her.
"Can't you be upfront with me? You're obviously mad about something, so just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it."
"You can't…" she snapped, finally meeting my eyes.
"I can't if you don't talk to me." I held her gaze for a moment, but she shook her head to the side, chewing on her bottom lip; as if she was trying to hold her thoughts back. "Is this because of that night on the hill? Did I do something wrong? Is that why you've been ignoring me?"
"I'm not ignoring you."
"Then why haven't you been answering my calls? Or replying to my texts?"
"I told you. I've been busy." She looked up at me, sticking to her obvious lie.
"Doing what?"
"Why does it matter? I don't need to report everything I do to you."
"That's not what I'm asking—"
"Maybe I had a change of heart!" She blurted. It came out so suddenly, it made me flinch.
"Meaning what? You're not into me anymore?" I forced a laugh to subdue the anger bubbling up inside me. This conversation felt all too familiar, and it took everything in me not to blow up. "So you had your fill and now you're done with me? Is that it? Was I just some stupid fantasy you wanted to live out to satiate your curiosity?"
"What's it matter? You've got plenty of fans to curb your fill."
And there it was. The obvious truth seeping through the cracks of her lies.
I turned to the side, smothering a cackle.
"What's so funny?" She growled, glowing red.
"You're jealous," I let out a laugh. "You're so obviously jealous, it's hilarious."
Bonnie walked past me to leave, "I'm glad you're amused."
"Hey, hang on," I grabbed her arm gently. She swatted me away but I dodged her hand before I blocked her path. "I don't get why you're making such a big deal out this."
"A big deal?"
"Yeah. I mean, we went on one date. We hooked up one time—"
"My first time!" She blurted, tears welling up in her eyes.
I didn't know how to respond to that. It took a second to swallow.
"Bon, I…" I had a hunch that she hadn't had all that much experience in her past, she seemed too clean and innocent to have had too many partners, but I assumed she must have had some. Even just one. And even if she hadn't, I convinced myself it wouldn't have mattered anyway. We weren't exclusive, and yet, she threw away her virginity so easily. I assumed she would've given it up to anyone who offered to take it, but…
But the expression on her face told me something completely different.
"I thought you understood where we were going with this?"
"And I thought you were being sincere that night," she retorted, her voice trembling.
"I was! But…" I had to pause to choose my words carefully. It was clear she'd gotten too attached, too fast. I was sure she felt cheated, robbed of an experience, all because of me. I could see it glistening in her eyes, the betrayal eating away at her, as if she'd been toyed with…
I knew that feeling all too well.
"Bonnie, we never said we were exclusive. You never said 'no' either, so I just assumed—"
"You assumed I was looking for some random hook up?" She said between her teeth, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I assumed you were thinking rationally? Realistically! I mean, it was one date! One night! What were you expecting—"
"Not much," She wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater, looking off to the side. "And I sure as hell don't expect anything from you now."
"Bonnie, c'mon. I never meant to—" I reached out to wipe her tears, but she stepped away.
"Then don't worry about it." She put on a smile. "This was all on me. I was thinking irrationally. I guess I was just dumb to assume you actually cared about me after one date."
"I do! I still do!"
"Let's just drop this," She wiped her tears. "Let's just forget this ever happened. Your times up anyway."
She brushed past me to leave, and this time, I didn't stop her. I couldn't. I didn't feel like I had a right to, and I was afraid I'd send her the wrong message if I tried. I convinced myself to stay put, even after she was long gone. I'd caused her enough trouble already.
Then the sun fell. I tried to convince myself to head home, that I hadn't done anything wrong. That I hadn't led her on. That I had every right to go back to the den, put on a good show, and sleep with whoever I wanted, without feeling awful about it.
But the guilt was practically choking me. There was no way I could perform anything in that state.
I had to try again. One more time