Free Run by Amanda K. Byrne Page A

I’m McKenna, and I’ll be your server.”
           He took the menu with a grunt, and I retrieved a glass of water for him, hurrying away to the kitchen to retrieve the broom and a dustpan. Charlie may have said something. It was a buzz in my ears. Nothing more. One day. One whole day where the calm lasted and I didn’t want to curl into a ball. It was so little, and too much to ask.
           I greeted another table, handed out menus and waters and silverware. The ghost from the past ordered the chili, and I drifted around the restaurant, scrambling to recover my equilibrium.
           The guilt, the whispers and doubts, were getting worse. It had been three years. Three years, drugs, therapy, a year of moving from place to place. And none of it had worked. Supposedly the guilt would go away, or I’d learn to live with it. When? When would that happen? When would I wake up and not immediately think today ’ s another day I could have been teaching except I screwed up so badly I lost a student ?
           Gwen kept a small calendar on the wall next to the cash register. I glanced at it as I was ringing up a table.
           May third.
            That was why it was getting worse. It had gotten worse the same time last year. May sixth was the anniversary of Deirdra’s death. May sixth was when I’d left Bend behind in the middle of the night, without a word to anyone.
           The rest of my shift passed in a haze of orders and concerned glances from Celia. I protested as she followed me to my car. “Seriously, I’m fine. Exhausted and I’ve got a slight headache, but I’m fine.”
           She frowned. “That came on pretty quick.”
           “That’s the nature of headaches,” I said wryly. “They like to spring themselves at the most inopportune time.”
           “You sure you’re okay?”
           Any other time, I would have welcomed her concern. It was a sense of belonging, of friendship and love, something that filled some of the cracks in my lonely soul. Right now it was bugging the shit out of me. I wanted to be alone. I managed a small smile. “I’m going to go home, take some painkillers, and maybe take a nap. I’ve got the early shift tomorrow anyway, so going to bed early might be a good idea.”
           She groaned. “God, I hate those shifts. Six fuckin’ AM. The human body is not meant to be up that early.” She nudged me into the car. “Go. You’re gonna need that sleep.” Her face brightened. “Hey, I think we’re both off Friday. Umphrey’s Magee is in town, and I can score some tickets. Wanna go?”
           “Sure.” Anything to get her to go away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
           Half an hour later, I trudged up the stairs to my apartment, bracing myself for the blast of heat that would hit the moment I opened the door. I probably ought to eat something first, but I wanted the dead space of drug-induced sleep.
           The apartment was a sauna. I locked the front door, opened the windows facing the alley, found the Lunesta and dry swallowed a tablet. I stripped off my clothes and fell on the bed as the chemicals took hold and pulled me under.
    * * *
           Not enough people appreciated sunrise. The grey softening and fading to gold, clouds painted colors you’d find in the fluorescent section of the crayon box, the rest of the world still sleeping, grumbling their way into wakefulness. No, they took it for granted that it would be there, and there’d be plenty of time to look at it later.
           The tables were still empty, the diner bright and cheerful on the shadowed street. I tipped my head back and stared at the sky. Gwen didn’t mind if I took these minutes for myself. No one else was using them, anyway.
           My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out.
           “Don’t think you can text that to me and get away with