Minding Q's

Chapter 3

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     SCREEEEEECH.

     Celain sat on her hands, restraining herself so she wouldn't cover her ears. The noise of the TRAX rails wasn't bothering anyone else—although the group she was with was probably too busy chatting to stop and ask why she was overreacting.

     A man on the far end of the compartment was listening to music with earbuds, and Celain had to force herself to not tap her foot to the rhythm. She'd made that mistake before.

     "It's kinda nice just going as us girls," Marilynne, one of the girls in the group, was saying to the others. "I feel like we haven't had a girls' day in a while."

     "Well, that's 'cuz Katelyn's always working now," Paige said. "And Suzanne's always out with her boyfriend."

     "We could go on group dates if you would just start dating," Suzanne pointed out. "Like, if you'd just get a Tinder or something--"

     "That was already a disaster, remember?" Paige interrupted. "And don't start trying to set us up with Eddie's friends. I personally don't wanna date a guy that's fresh outta high school."

     "First of all, Eddie is nineteen," Suzanne scoffed. "Second of all, you can't deny that his friends are good options."

     "They're options," Paige said. "But definitely not my first ones."

     Celain fiddled with her spinner ring, trying to think of something to add to the conversation—but all she drew were blanks.

     Finally, they made it to their stop and flooded out of the train with practically every passenger. The crowd was suffocating. Celain clung to the sleeve of one of her companions—only to be shaken off. She immediately withdrew, embarrassed.

     She didn't want to be there. There was a pack of earplugs in her pocket and another in her bag, but she knew how everyone would react if she wore them—although maybe they would be more understanding, seeing as a football game was a lot louder than a movie theater.

     Her vision swam. Frantically glancing around to make note of landmarks, Celain excused herself and fought her way to the restrooms—but it was even worse there with the walls that were closing in. Desperate, she found herself back in the parking lot that they had crossed, searching for a place to lower her head between her knees.

     She made her way to one of the lamp posts that were arranged in lines across the lot, collapsing against the cement base of the lamp like it was a buoy in the sea of cars. Hugging her legs against herself as she sat there, Celain shut her eyes to try and block out the sunlight that forced an orange glow through her eyelids. She managed to steady her breathing, but she was starting to regret her choice of wearing two layers on her lower body—especially when the fabric was black and absorbing enough heat to fry something.

     A shadow fell over her.

     "Hey, uh—you okay down there?"

     Celain flinched, startled by both the suddenness of the question and the familiarness of the voice. She tentatively glanced up, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the light.

     The first thing she noticed was the guy's lanyard.

     It was the same sunflower lanyard that she was wearing.

     He was the same guy that she'd had an encounter with only a few days earlier—the guy that had asked to sit at the same table as her.

     Recalling how annoying he had been during that first encounter, Celain was unsure whether or not to feel relieved—but she offered him a spot to sit down next to her on the cement cylinder.

     "Oh, thanks." He sat down, propping a foot up and resting his elbow on his knee. "I like your shirt," he said, pointing at the retro blouse that Celain was wearing.

     "Thanks," Celain managed to say. "Um, I like your shirt. The over one. The one-- The-- This." She mimed tugging the open front of a button-down shirt as though she were wearing one and trying to straighten it out.

     "Thanks! I got this one while thrifting, actually. I wasn't sure if it was gonna be warm or cold today, since it's s'posed to rain later or whatever, so I just went with layers like usual. I think I made a mistake wearing pants, though. Damn, it's hot out here." He shook the collar of the shirt under the button-down to fan himself off.

     A car alarm suddenly started going off, making both of them jump. Celain clapped her hands over her ears.

     "Oh, hey—do you want some of these?" The guy held out an unopened pouch of earplugs. They were bright orange, opposed to the skin-colored ones in Celain's pocket.

     She shook her head, making sure the car alarm had stopped going off before taking her hands away from her ears.

     "I've got some." She fished the earplugs out of her pocket and held them up. "Thanks, though."

     "Nice." He grinned. "I always bring spares, just in case. My buddies always make fun of me, but eh—what'cha gonna do?" He gave a dramatic shrug, leaning back to kick his leg up and rest it on his other knee.

     "Are you here for the game?" Celain asked, regretting the question immediately after she said it. What else would the guy be in the parking lot of a stadium for?

     "Yeah, my friends dragged me along. I needed a breather, so I came out here before it starts. Besides,"—he leaned farther back and craned his neck towards the stadium—"it's not like I'll miss anything with that jumbotron or whatever."

     Celain glanced at her watch. If she took too much time, she wouldn't even be able to use the classic "There was a huge line" on top of the restroom excuse.

     "Honestly, I'll prob'ly leave early," the guy went on. "It used to make me feel stupid, but hey—at least I can admit my limits." He flicked the beads on his necklace.

     "It just feels so lame," Celain muttered, spinning her ring. "It's not like leaving a party or something."

     "Yeah, I get that." He shrugged again. "It just sucks that not everyone does. Get it, I mean. But I just have to remind myself that my needs are important, even if other people think it's stupid or whatever."

     Celain looked up at the jumbotron as a particularly loud roar came from within the stadium. She didn't want to go back in. There were too many people. Too much sound.

     Too much.

     But she had made a promise, and she intended to see it through. If she backed out now, the group she was with would add it to the list of things to exclude her from—which she hated because it felt different than the way her younger sister would let her sit in the air-conditioned car when running to the store. It felt different than being offered earplugs. It wasn't the same when there was no choice, when there was no invitation, when it wasn't her fault and yet it was.

     Celain's phone buzzed in her pocket, making her flinch. It was a text from Suzanne, asking where she was.

     "Someone wondering where you are?" the guy guessed.

     "Yeah." Celain sent a text saying she would be there in a moment. "I should go back," she mumbled, twisting her earplugs between her fingers, letting her hair down to cover her ears as she started heading toward the stadium.

     "Don't die in there!" the guy called after her.

     Celain waved back at him, unable to get any words to leave her mouth.