My eyes were as much on my phone as they were on the street. I had to have typed the same message a dozen times without hitting send; probably drained half the battery with it.
“hay t. 4give me 4 bein a jerk???”
To send or not to send; that was the question. I mean, it wasn’t like I had anything to apologize for, did I?
An hour past midnight and a chill set under my skin. How long had I been walking?
The lines for the clubs had been replaced by the cue for taxis. Men smiling and reeking of alcohol leaned toward me as I passed them by.