What Goes Around

8 - WOULD YOU CALL THE NUMBER ON A BATHROOM STALL?

Through the bank of windows, across the parking lot, the Catakano Community College's newsboard flashed a too-enthusiastic "YOU BELONG HERE!"

"Yeah, whatever," Tuesday said under her breath, shifting in the hard seat and forcing her attention back on the textbook in front of her. She kept reading the words but meaning refused to register. She'd been here too long–the sky going from peaceful baby blue to purple-red streaks to absolute nothingness–but she didn't exactly revere the motel any more.

She kicked her legs back and forth, resting an already-sore chin on alternating fists, trying not to sulk. It hadn't been an extraordinary first day, but she'd asked for it. She'd asked for a change of scenery, of tolerable mundanity, a just-enough-ordinary existence she couldn't choke on.

It had only taken one day to get an acceptance email, and another to squeeze in an appointment on campus with an advisor. On just her fourth day in town, Tuesday woke to the dawn of her first day at Catakano Community College, since classes had already started the week prior. Sneaking into her one class of the day, a tiny lecture hall that didn't fill even half of its seats, she stuck out about as much as her Caddy had in the parking lot. She was beginning to think she should dunk it in a bucket of mud, just to tone down its prep-girl shine a little. Maybe walking from now on was a better option.

Stuck out, but no one spoke to her, and she was jittery enough from anxiety and two cups of motel coffee to prefer it that way anyhow. It was noon, but somehow even that was far too early for a math class. She'd survived the monotony and settled on seeking out the library for shelter afterwards, setting up shop there for the rest of the day.

Books were good. They didn't gossip about you or set you on fire or carve cryptic warnings into your skin–

Tuesday shuddered, slamming the textbook shut and immediately wincing, but there were only two other people in the library including the desk clerk; no one was disturbed by her sudden fit.

Yeah, books were great, but not this one. If she tried to wrap her head around the atrocity of letters getting mixed into math she'd be the one magically committing arson soon enough. She glanced over the armful of fiction books she'd checked out as well, but reading about fictitious fantasies didn't grab her attention either.

Her gaze drifted to the left where a scrawny kid hovered in a shadowy alcove. He'd been there nearly as long as she had, long enough she felt like she knew him already even though they hadn't exchanged a single word. He wore awkward loneliness like an ugly Christmas sweater, and she couldn't help stealing glances now and then. She knew that feeling and wanted to try striking up a conversation, enter one friendly face into her Catakano catalogue, but it was so much easier staying planted at her desk.

Of course, it wasn't just his loner vibe that attracted her. There was that impressive shiner he was sporting, too. The one he both didn't bother covering up with makeup but was aware of enough to duck his head anytime someone looked in his general direction, letting choppy blonde bangs fall over his forehead and half-cover the evidence of a broken home life. Another thing she understood greatly, even if the Reverend had never laid his hands on her–well, not like that. He'd never had the pleasure of leaving such a visible mark.

The boy met the clerk's steely eyes and sighed, shoving books into his bag. Then the clerk slid that expectant look Tuesday's direction. Shit, it really was getting late. She took her time with her own things, wanting to give the boy his space to get out of dodge first and avoid an unfortunate meet-cute or something. Those never ended well.

She took her leave half a minute after the boy did, eyes already half shut and body aching for the motel mattress; surprisingly, it was easy to get used to the lumpiness. After throwing her own sheets over it, she could almost forget what it was, where it might have been...