Contemporary edgy romance

The leaves were a crisp burnt orange. That was the first thing I noticed on my morning run. Last week they were red bleeding to yellow with swirls of brown. Still clinging to the branches as if they had a say in the matter. Some still a watery green, resisting the change. Others fractured, before readying themselves for the descent to the cold hard earth where they’d turn mucky brown and crunch under my feet.

This was my favorite season, when the last of the summer heat thankfully departed and the mornings were brisk. Sweater weather made for the best PR’s, but of course I didn’t really care all that much about personal records, at least not anymore. I wasn’t in competition with anyone else. I knew if I’d really wanted to, I could be top of the pack with the rest of the Varsity cross-country team, and probably even win because I was good enough to do so, rather than lagging behind, but I wasn’t running for that. I ran, at my own pace, because lately, running had been the only thing in my life I could control. Running was something that made me feel, made me forget, and with the way things were going, these mornings before my 45- minute drive to school were absolutely necessary.

Nate used to say brisk mornings like this were meant for people like us; two souls who didn’t give a fuck, which I never understood, because while I’ve tended to be oblivious to what others thought of me, I never would have said I was the type to not give a fuck. Sometimes I gave a lot of fucks, but anyway, he’d lace up his shoes, the ratty Nike’s with a hole in the left toe, take a final drag of his cigarette, smear it on the sidewalk and take off ahead of me as if he stood a chance. His lungs burned but he’d said it’s what made him feel alive. He kept pace with me, pushed me, encouraged me. It was something that belonged to us. Mom used to say despite our three-year age difference we could have been twins. I missed running with him.