Noise

Another story from the short story collection I'm working on.

It was all new to me. The loud music, the flashing lights, the shamelessness of the barely-covered bodies all around me. I’d heard of places like it, of course. Some of the girls at the support groups I used to go to talked about places like this. They didn’t speak very fondly of them. Their words were tinged with “I wish I hadn’t” and “I wish I had known.”

Somehow I felt prudish and overexposed all at once, sitting there in a corner in my floor-length skirt and floral blouse. I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or furious that Lupio hadn’t said a word when I came out of my apartment looking like this. “It’ll be fun,” he had coaxed, “We’ll get dressed up and I’ll show you were I hang out. Sebastián isn’t much for night life, so he’ll stay and watch the little guy for you. Come on, it’ll be good for you.” I still wasn’t sure why I agreed. I found myself wishing I had stayed back to help Sebastián take care of Zee. Thinking of his tenderness brought a smile to my face, but soon my smile was washed away by a wave of guilt and worry. How could I trust this man, such a new face in my life, with my child’s safety and wellbeing? I huddled into the leather couch and began to nibble at my thumbnail, trying hard not to envision what the couch might have been used for in the recent past.

Before long, though, my pensive thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a young woman wearing a leather jacket over a neon green bra and a startlingly short plaid skirt, all of which stood out starkly against her eerily pale skin. I had no chance to identify the colors of her multi-colored, half-shaved hair before she shouted in a slurred voice “Ya in my seat, b***h!”

My response stuck in my throat like a wad of dry paper as I readied myself to stand up, but before I was able to move, a flamboyantly-clad girl with umber skin pranced up behind the first girl and smacked her playfully over the head before signing something to her and turning to me with a smile on her face, “Sorry ‘bout that, Pulse’s bark is worse than her bite, mostly because she can’t hear herself barking. Mind if we sit with you?”

I shakily let out my pent-up breath and mustered all of my strength to nod meekly. The girl called Pulse took a seat on the foot rest across from me while her colorful friend cheerfully seated herself right beside me, causing me to flinch away involuntarily. She smoothed out her polka-dot skirt over her rainbow leggings and introduced herself as Lirpa, leading me to silently wonder if anyone here went by their real names.

“I’m Aqui,” I murmured back, hoping my given name was exotic enough to avoid scrutiny.

“Gonna have to speak up�"it’s mad loud in here!” Lirpa shouted a little too close to my ear. To my relief, I noticed that Pulse had pulled out her phone and tuned out of the conversation.

I took a deep breath and repeated, “My name is Aqui.”

“Ohh!” Lirpa nodded, “Like you’re having fun being awkward�"awk-weeee!”

“Yeah,” I said, wishing I had the energy to say something more articulate.

“So, what brings you here?” she continued.

“An overenthusiastic neighbor,” I replied.

She clapped her hands together in delight, which might have startled me if the music hadn’t drowned out the sound, “Oh, you’re Lupio’s friend! It’s nice to meet you�"can I give you a hug?”

My body language must have answered her question, because she followed up with, “It’s okay, not everybody likes hugs. Oooh, I’m really glad we got to meet you, though! Do you like it here, so far?”

I bit my lip, “Sure, yeah. I dunno, I guess I feel out of place.”

“Aww, it’s okay. We’re all really nice, here!” Lirpa assured me, “What kinds of things are you into?”

“Oh, n-n-no, I’m not into that kind of stuff…” I explained frantically.

Lirpa giggled in response, “I didn’t mean sexy stuff! What do you do for fun?”

I shrugged, silenced by embarrassment. I wanted to mention dance. I always want to mention dance. It’s always on the tip of my tongue. Like the time Iami, my social worker, asked “what will you do to take care of yourself,” and I wanted to say I would start dancing again, but instead I told her some half-truth about rocking chairs and healthy dinners.

“Aww, don’t be sad. I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Lirpa pouted dramatically, causing her fish-shaped hat to flop forward pathetically.

“It’s okay,” I replied, not sure what else to say and secretly hoping my lack of responses might bore her into leaving me in peace.

My hopes seemed to be in vain, though, because a moment later, her freckled face lit up and she exclaimed, “I know! Why don’t I introduce you to the rest of our friends?”

I immediately flashed back to my earlier conversation with Lupio.

“Don’t worry,” he had assured me, “I’ll introduce you to everyone so you won’t feel awkward.”

“Maybe…” I had pondered my words carefully, “Maybe we should wait. Maybe I should come get you when I’m ready for you to introduce me?”

“Sure,” he agreed, “If you’re sure that’s the way you wanna do it. Don’t be too nervous, though�"they’re all really excellent. I think you’ll like ‘em a lot.”

Back in the present moment, I swallowed hard, “Maybe in a little while?”

“Nonsense,” Lirpa retorted, “Let’s just rip that shyness band-aid right off. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Pinky swear!”

Suddenly, Pulse’s brightly manicured hand came out of nowhere and swatted Lirpa’s extended pinky out of the air. “Would you shut up?” she bellowed. Then, to my surprise, she calmly stood up and extended a hand to me, raising her pale, perfectly-trimmed eyebrows by way of invitation.

I took her invitation but not her hand, following her outside to the patio, which was covered with a sparse layer of smokers.

Once we stepped out into the quiet, fresh air, Pulse took a deep breath and began talking and signing simultaneously, “If you know ASL, tell me now and save us both the trouble.”

I shook my head, “No, sorry.”

She dropped her hands, “That’s fine. S’why we’re outside. Can’t talk worth s**t in there, even if your ears work.”

“Are you from New York?” I blurted out, attempting to place why her accent sounded so familiar.

My question was met with raucous laughter. Once she recovered enough to speak again, Pulse straightened herself up and replied, “Nah, I’m from Maine. I get that all the time, though. Either that or British. Everybody thinks my dad’s British. Nope. Just deaf. We come from the exotic isle o’ can’t-hear-s**t. What about you?”

Unsure of whether to laugh along or be embarrassed, I responded simply, “Oh. I… I actually am from New York. I left in high school, though.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” she nodded, “What brings you here?”

“It’s a long story,” I hung my head, “I’d rather not get into it.”

“S’fine. Whatever,” she shrugged, “So, club’s not really your scene, huh?”

I shrugged back, “I’ve never been to one, before.”

“I like it,” Pulse offered, “Gives me a chance to dance. And flirt. You into guys or girls or what?”

“Um…” her question gave me pause. I wracked my brain trying to remember a time when love and sex weren’t some kind of currency in my life.

Finally, I replied, “No one, I guess?”

I don’t know what kind of reaction I expected, but her response caught me off guard, “Ace?”

“What?” I tilted my head to the side.

“Asexual,” she clarified. Or at least, she meant to clarify, but the last time I had heard that word was in my 9^th grade biology class in reference to cutting worms in half. Since I was fairly certain I was not a worm, her clarification meant very little to me.

Luckily, she sensed my confusion and elaborated, “Like when you’re not into anybody, at least not for sex.”

“Oh, uh…” I mulled over her words for a moment, “Yeah, I don’t know. I’d never heard of that before. I guess I’m still learning. Sorry.”

“S’fine. Just curious,” she assured me.

I was curious, too, but before I had a chance to ask any more questions, our conversation was cut short by a heavyset man, maybe a few years older than us, whose plaid shirt and blue jeans implied that he might have gotten lost on his way to a different kind of bar. 

“Heya, Pulse!” he shouted as he engulfed her in a bear-hug from behind, “There y’are. Been lookin’ for you all over the dance floor,” he paused and looked up at me, “Hey, who’s the new lady?”

“This is… s**t, I always forget to ask for names,” Pulse grimaced.

“I’m Aqui,” I supplied mildly, “I’m Lupio’s upstairs neighbor, if you know him…”

“If I know him? S**t, Lupio and Scooty are only like my best friends in the whole universe! Nice to meetcha,” boomed the newcomer, releasing Pulse from his bear hug and extending a surprisingly small hand for me to shake, “I’m Raine. Raine Forrest.”

I extended my own hand cautiously and wondered if that was his real name. Pulse rolled her eyes, “Always gotta show off that your name’s as punny as you are.”

Raine beamed, “If you got it, flaunt it.” As he spoke, he produced a cigarette and a lighter from one of his pockets and lit up. I subtly shifted away from the smoke, trying not to think of the way my father would sneak cigarettes in his car with only my brother and I as witnesses, desperate to impress his wife and his friends at the synagogue, but not once thinking to impress his own children. “Shh, it’s our little secret,” he would say with a wink, the same way the one who hurt me would talk to me almost a decade later when I told him I was pregnant.

After a moment of silence, Raine piped up, “So, what brings y’all out to the smoking patio? Aqui doesn’t seem like your usual type,” he winked at Pulse. I cringed.

“Shut up!” Pulse gave him a playful shove, “I just wanted to give her a break from Lirpa. She’s my best friend, but y’know how she is.”

“Right you are,” Raine nodded knowingly, then turned to me, “How you likin’ it, so far?”

I shrugged.

“S’alright. Not really my scene, either. Lupio dragged me here, too. I only stick around because someone won’t let me leave,” he raised an eyebrow at Pulse, who proceeded to flip him off.

I managed a weak smile.

“So,” Pulse turned to Raine, “I take it you came out to find a dance partner?”

“How dare you discount my experiences!” Raine gasped in mock offense, “I came out because I felt uncomfortable with the gender thrust upon me by a terrible, horrible, no-good cissexist society based on what my junk looked like when I was born, thank you very much. Not because I wanted a dance partner.”

Pulse rolled her eyes.

“However, I did come outside to find a dance partner,” Raine continued with a grin, flicking out the rest of his cigarette and dropping it, to my surprise, in an actual trash can, “Ready to head inside?”

Pulse nodded and turned to me, “You alright on your own?”

I paused a moment, then nodded back. When we went back inside, I looked around for Lupio’s tell-tale mop of curly hair, bleached at the front and walnut-brown at the back. I found him quickly, though I still wasn’t used to seeing him in a dress.

“Hey,” I said as I approached him, hoping my voice was loud enough to hear, “I think I’m ready to meet your friends.”

Author's Note

*Is the ending too abrupt?
*Does the dialogue sound alright?
*As always, title suggestions are greatly appreciated

Reviews

[Scout Lily]

I really enjoyed this piece, and the ending in particular. It is quite abrupt, but I like it as it is, it leaves the reader with the feeling of an impact, and shows character development nicely. (Of course that's just my taste - some people like more explanation)

The dialogue was believable, although I found it overemphasized, and perhaps overdone. For me, I'm often put off when too much of the story is told through dialogue and you seemed to jump from over description in the beginning to over-dialogue in the end. This isn't a problem that detracts hugely, but perhaps more balance could improve it even more?

I really enjoyed it and it was a pleasure reading :)