My cellphone was so cheap that it only worked in Atlanta, so I had no way of calling him. My cheeks stiffened in the cold wind. I had no doubts that he’d left me. Only thought for a second that maybe something terrible had happened to him. I’d spoken to the store clerk for no more than two minutes. He would have had to run to get out of sight that fast. Had he been so serious about not wanting to get mugged, that he’d left me to face that possibility on my own?
I stuffed my hands deep into the pockets of my pea coat and headed back toward the subway. I’d met Lee over Christmas break my senior year of high school. He was a freshman at Colorado State when I caught him staring at me from across the dance floor at teen night at Dusty’s night club. We spent every weekend together, hanging out at his apartment until my curfew. When I turned eighteen, I started spending the night. One night, about three weeks into his spring semester, he shot straight up in bed gripping his chest.