The Lights Kept Turning Green

i left his place a little after two, still hadn't said it back. he asked if i wanted to stay and i said i should go, my roommate, an early thing, none of it true.

first light on his street turned green before i even slowed down. so did the next one. i started counting without deciding to. eleven in a row, every single one on cook street, right as i got close enough to have to stop.

i know how traffic lights work. i know it's timing, some signal grid doing its job at an hour with no other cars to hold it up. i know that.

but i kept waiting for the twelfth to catch me red, kept slowing down early like i wanted it to, like i needed one light to just make the decision for me. stop here. go back. say it.

none of them did. i got home in eleven minutes on a route that usually takes twenty, parked in my spot, and sat there a while before i went in.

he texted goodnight before i even reached my door. i typed you too and meant it, which isn't the same as what he actually asked me, and i already know that difference is what i'll be doing math on next time he asks.