I jogged back to the train, feeling the keys in my pocket and a stupid grin upon my face. Before I had left for work that morning I had preemptively packed my bag. I’d be in and out in thirty seconds. Then I’d be done with Jeff and his passive-aggressive bullshit, his knowing looks, the air of superiority with which he continually viewed me. Maybe I’d give him a final “fuck you” for good measure, draw a big dick on a sheet of paper and leave it on his desk for him to find. Then I could go back to being just another nameless face in a big city with a past that, as far as anyone knew, was no different or remarkable than anyone else’s.

When I made it back, I walked in and hung his keys on the hook beside the door. Good riddance, I thought. Down the hall and into the bedroom where atop the bed my bag would be waiting. Only it wasn’t there. I kept staring at the top mattress as if I’d merely overlooked the bag, and that if I looked more closely it would suddenly appear. And then I heard the floor creak from out in the living room.

Jeff stood firmly in front of the sofa with his arms crossed. His eyes stared through me beneath two tightly furrowed brows. He wore tennis shoes, mesh shorts, and a T-shirt as though he’d been to the gym. His hands were clenched into fists, ready for whatever may or may not happen. Luckily I had two fists of my own, and without telling them to, both tightened into balls.

“Give me back the forty dollars you stole and replace my bottle of whiskey and I’ll give you your bag,” he said.

“I didn’t drink a bottle of whiskey.”

“Bullshit,” he said, already breathing heavily.

I smiled. “Where’s my bag, Jeff?”

“Where’s my money and whiskey?” he replied.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Yes, Stratton, it’s all one big joke.”

I nodded. “You’ve sat here all day, haven’t you? Thinking this through. But really, Jeff, do you think this is going to turn out well for you?”

“Right, Stratton. You’re nothing but a worthless petty thief and I want what you took from me. Hell, you’re not even denying that you stole the money.”

I shook my head. “You really are pathetic.”

“Yeah, I’m pathetic. And you really are a worthless thief. I mean, do you see yourself right now? Like, really? What the hell, man? I helped you out and let you stay here for free and all you did was freeload off me, and when that wasn’t enough you stole my money. You’re a charity case, you know that? You’re—”