Standing By

Through the Door

(Tim)

I was only somewhat satisfied by the assurances that Scott and Mitch were OK. Wasn't so sure about Kirstie though. She'd said she would be OK, but she didn't look it. Her eyes had given it away. A mixture of sadness, shock, and hurt pooled together. And what the hell was she running for? Where'd she think she was going?

"We buying that?" Austin asked under his breath.

"Not sure," I said slowly. "She looked really upset."

"It's not really our business," Adam tried to say diplomatically, but I could tell he didn't really believe himself.

"Why not?" Rob asked. "They're our friends. And I'm sorry, but I'm not buying the 'they're fine, I'm fine' song and dance."

"Me either," Chance admitted, playing with his cap, adjusting it around and on his head.

"I'm less concerned about Scott and Mitch now," I began, "but more concerned about Kirstie. She seemed really upset about something."

"About what?" Austin wondered, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Who knows," Chance murmured. He pointed to the door to the room they'd just disappeared into. "They're talking to her."

"Is she upset about Scott and Mitch disappearing or did she find them but they are upset, or did she find them and they weren't truly OK, or is it something else entirely?" My mind was whirring, going crazy with endless possibilities.

Adam put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't play the what-if game. It doesn't help and it never ends well."

Rob eyed me. "And do not work yourself up into a panic attack."

"I'm no-ot," I said, a bit of a whine in my voice. Oh God. Was I going to be forever viewed as a walking panic attack waiting to happen now? "I'm just thinking out loud, OK? And quit looking at me like that!" I whine-snapped at him as he just continued to watch me through half-squinted eyes.

"Like what?" he asked, still staring at me like I was a bug.

"Just—with—you—," I sputtered before finally just telling him to stop looking at me altogether. He rolled his eyes but at least he fixated on something different.

We leaned against the wall and waited for a few minutes, getting more and more impatient with each tick of the clock.

"What the hell are they talking about?" Austin exclaimed irritably after about five minutes (or five hours? That's what it felt like!) "How long's it take to say something?"

"Depends on what the something is," Adam remarked wryly.

"It is taking an awful long time," I complained, frowning at the frustratingly closed door. "How personal can it possibly be?"

Chance shrugged. "Who knows? I never have understood women."

"I know, right?" Austin agreed, rolling his eyes. "With guys, you never have this problem. They either hide their issues so you never know about them or say what they're thinking and just let it fly."

"Pretty much," I said, nodding. "No guesswork."

"For better or for worse," Chance grumbled, making Austin, Adam, and I whip around.

"What's that mean?" I asked Chance.

"Never mind," he muttered. He pointed to the door. "Anybody want to eavesdrop?'

"Sure,"Austin said, easily distracted. He turned in the direction of the door.

Adam and I gave pause though. "So much for no guesswork with guys," he mumbled, shaking his head.