Queen of the Headphone Zombies

Tangent

"First day nerves?" she asks as her mouth makes a little pout.

Oh, hell no. I hate pouty chicks. The docs almost had me, but the pout pushed away any thoughts of getting to know her better.

I roll my eyes, "No. First day disgust." I answer as I look around the segregated quad. I have no chance at happiness in a place like this. Happiness? My inner cynic laughs at such a ludicrous thought.

"Yeah, high school does have that effect on teenagers." She nods. "I'm Chelsea, by the way. Welcome to our little version of prison."

I look back down at blondie and realize she's a social enigma. She has a fresh face free of the typical gallons of make-up most girls wear now, but her almost preppy clothes are paired with the red boots. And damn, the girl has no social filter, obviously since she didn't hesitate to come right up to the new guy, not worried about crossing any invisible boundaries by being seen with me.

"Emerson. And thanks, super excited to be here," I say with zero excitement. My head cocks to the side as I imagine what my dad would think of her. I honestly don't know because I have the feeling this girl would fit in basically anywhere she goes. That's kind of refreshing. But also a little disturbing considering my main goal in life, after music, is anarchy.

Then I take another look around, trying to decide if I should bother assimilating into any one of these groups. Hard pass. I just don't have the energy.

But then I look past the quad and out to the grassy hill beyond the buildings. That's where I find the only people at this school who might have something to offer. They all have their headphones on and sit separate from each other, bobbing their heads and not speaking. My idea of perfection.

My little companion must notice the direction of my gaze, because she comments on it immediately. "I didn't take you for the zombie crowd, but you're practically drooling right now. Interesting."

I don't confirm or deny her suspicions so she continues on blabbing about music and bands and blah, blah, blah. I don't listen. Instead I zero in on one girl sitting on that hill--purple headphones that speak to me, non-descript grey hoodie, jet-black hair in a blunt cut with a splash of blue at the tips, and lips that are moving as her eyes are closed.

Shit. I need to see those eyes, because those lips, moving to the words of whatever song she's listening to, aren't just lip syncing. She's living those words, breathing them in, they're a part of her.

God I need to see her eyes. Do they live the words too?

"That's Zoe." The girl next to me, Chelsea, is speaking again. Had she ever stopped? "The girl you're staring at."

I look down at Chelsea once again. She's smirking at me. Awesome.

"And?" I challenge the smirk by crossing my arms.

"And, she's the queen of those bozos over there. The only one worth making an effort for."

My eyebrows bunch together. What is the little blondie talking about? "Are you one of them?"

Chelsea laughs. "Ha! As if. Nah, Zoe's my girl." She looks back over to the hill. "See all those wannabe's around her? They follow her moves. Go where she goes. Zoe, she sets the tone, the beat, and they all bob along."

"Sounds like a cult." My response sounds dismissive, but I'm actually intrigued. "Why'd they make her their queen?"

Chelsea looks back up at me, eyeing me hard. "Right now, as we speak, Zoe's got a playlist going, listening to her favs and memorizing every nuance of every breath in every song." She pauses like the little drama queen she is. "But the rest? They're all listening to her." Chelsea punctuates her point with another dramatic pause. "That's why she's the queen."