Are you going out with friends for your birthday?

I don’t really know if they’re my friends, but they’re people I know.

Tasha, enough with the negativity. You have lived in four different states since you left home. Will you ever be satisfied and just settle down already?

I fucking hope not; that sounds terrifying.

You’re an adult now, Tasha. It’s time to start thinking responsibly. If you continue this behavior and this attitude, you’ll never amount to anything. What happened to the 8-year-old who used to want to be the first female president? Now you’re a nobody.

I’d rather be a nobody than an everybody. I slam my phone shut and throw it in the trashcan. I look past the trashcan and see a bus stop. Maybe it will take me home. I cross the street and see a southern gentleman sitting on the bench, pretending to be ignorant of my presence so he doesn’t have to stand. I lean against the bus stop sign and stare at the back of his shirt. “RUSH AE” he has on a backwards cap, with the Red Sox “B” staring at me and my lack of conviction. I walk up to him and knock his cap off. He looks up and pulls the cigarette from between his grinning lips. Hey sexy lady, he laughs as I grab the lit cigarette hanging limply between his two fingers and place it in my mouth. He fantasizes about throwing me against the pavement and boarding the bus, leaving me lying stunned, motionless, and freshly exhausted, and I realize I am in love with the girl I just left. I envision her still lying in bed, thinking of me, wondering when I’ll call and crying when I don’t. I see her two years from now. I see her gaunt complexion and sallow face from too many years of neglect and drugs. I want to tell her I am in love with her. I inhale and hold in the cigarette smoke long enough to eliminate my need to breathe. I think about flicking the cigarette onto his face and ripping his stupid cargo shorts off so he never makes the mistake of wearing them in front of me again. I turn my head and exhale. The bus pulls up; I flick the cigarette into the street; we board the bus, and the doors close behind us.