“You’re talking about this guy a whole lot, did you notice? Oh, you didn’t notice. Izzy, come on,” my cousin, Evie tells me over the phone on her walk home from the precious bookstore she works a stupid number of hours at.
come onIt’s already ten-something, and she’s walking home, and while Montreal is known for its night life, there’s always some asshole out there who thinks he deserves more than your time. So she calls me, and conversation is usually intermittent while I take my first fifteen minute break of the night to coincide with the phone call and my manager doesn’t care as long as I put my hours in.
“I don’t know, he’s in my class. He’s kind of a part of my daily life, Evie. It’s not like I can just forget about him,” I say, pressing my phone harder against my ear. The wind’s h
