Walk Among Us, page 4
Wordlessly, Clea shuffled up to the front of the room and got in line with the others, plopped her doughnut on a paper plate, and caught Ingrid’s eye at the end of the line from where the woman stood handing out cocoa—out of earshot of Finn, who was making small talk with the cluster of awkward boys, many of whom stared up at him in unconcealed awe.
Ingrid’s cold eyes shot from Jade to Clea, and she leaned forward, proffering a cup of cocoa, and said offhandedly, “Having a lover’s quarrel?”
Clea blinked a few times and swallowed heavily. Ingrid arched an eyebrow at her, her perfect red mouth curving into what she probably hoped was an understanding smile but, to Clea, seemed more smug than anything, because what could she possibly understand about me? Nothing. Just look at her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clea said stiffly. She took the cup of cocoa out of the woman’s hand and nearly ran back to her seat, thinking of the drawing she’d made in her sketchbook. A chill ran through her, and she sipped the cocoa in an attempt to staunch it, to no avail.
When she glanced back at the front of the room, she saw Ingrid studying her with that same smug look, and she averted her eyes back down to her Styrofoam cup and took a long swig of cocoa.
By then, the last of the group had grabbed their drinks and doughnuts, and Finn and Ingrid moved the table to the side and stood at the front of the room. A hush fell over the small crowd; maybe twenty people had stuck around to eat.
“Last week we told you that we weren’t going to make you sit around listening to lectures,” Finn began with an easy smile. “This week is a bit different—”
“It’s not a lecture. It’s more like . . . life advice,” Ingrid said. “Consider Finn and I your life coaches, if you will. Just for a night.”
A murmur went through the group, but no one spoke up directly. When the buzz subsided, a look passed between Finn and Ingrid, a beat of silence.
“Show of hands,” said Ingrid to the assembly. “How many of you have ever felt invisible?”
The new guys all raised their hands. After a moment, Clea tentatively did the same. In the end, the only person who hadn’t raised their hand was Jade. But then again, she was still playing her Switch.
Ingrid fixed her with a stare. “Hmm, is that so, Jade?”
“Yeah, I’ve always felt too visible, if you know what I mean,” Jade said bluntly, without looking up.
“And why is that?” Finn asked kindly.
Jade put down her game, reached over, and lifted up her crutch. “Because I’m gay and disabled. No matter how much I want to blend in, I can’t.” She cast a sidelong look at Clea. “And I have a feeling I’m not the only one who feels that way, honestly.”
Clea’s face began to heat up, and she shakily lowered her hand, and the rest of the room followed suit. Every face had turned to look at her. She had never wanted so badly to disappear.
“I m-mean,” Clea stammered, “it feels like all the times I want to be invisible, I can’t be. I feel like I take up too much space. And all the times I want to be seen, I just get ignored.”
“Aha, and there it is.” Finn clapped his hands together loudly, and everyone faced the front of the room again. Clea exhaled shakily and pressed her cold hands to her hot cheeks, taking deep breaths and giving him a look of silent gratitude.
“There what is?” Jade demanded.
“There’s where we can help,” said Finn, smiling, as if this were the simplest answer in the world. “You see, you may think that being invisible is a curse, but I choose to think of it as more of a superpower.”
“A . . . superpower?” Clea said, lowering her hands from her face.
“Yep. I mean, there are superheroes who can turn invisible. Think of what you can do with invisibility. You could go anywhere, do anything, and go completely unnoticed.”
“Okay, sure,” said Jade, “but that’s if you’re talking about literally being invisible. Not other people making you feel invisible.”
“Yeah, seriously,” said one of the guys, a greasy-haired kid in a death metal T-shirt with an illegible logo. “Why would we want that? I thought the whole point of this group was to help us feel less invisible.”
“The point of the group is to foster camaraderie among people who may be feeling that way,” Finn said amiably.
“That sounds pretty unhelpful to me,” Jade drawled. She picked up her crutch again and waved it at him. “So, like, as a highly visible person, am I free to go? I must’ve misread the flyer last week—clearly there’s no place for me here.”
A murmur of agreement ran through the room, and another one of the guys—a gangly young man with blue hair, several piercings, and a large birthmark spanning half his face—said, “Yeah, same.”
Finn rubbed the back of his neck, abashed. “That’s not it. It’s just the theme of today’s talk, that’s all.”
Ingrid put her hands up. “I’m not sure why Finn decided to phrase it the way he’s phrasing it, but that’s not what we’re saying. We’re trying to create a safe space for everyone who joins Common Cause. We’re saying that it’s okay to be who you are, even if who you are is an introvert who has trouble making friends. Does that make sense?”
The group was quiet, contemplative. A few of the guys were looking at Ingrid with renewed interest and in some cases lust, which made Clea’s stomach twist uncomfortably.
But she wasn’t really focused on this conversation—something in her had shifted at the word superpower, and it kept invading her mind. She struggled to pay attention.
“So you’re not necessarily going to help us learn how to make friends,” Illegible Metal Band Boy was saying.
“That’s something you’ve got to learn on your own, I think,” said Finn, once again confident after Ingrid’s clarification, “but you could start by making friends right here in this room. What do you say?”
A couple of the Awkward Boys—as Clea had started calling them in her head—glanced at her and Jade and looked doubtful. Jade took notice of this and set her face in a sneer to stare down any of the group who dared to make eye contact with her.
“So back up,” said one of the guys, and when Clea turned slightly to look at him, she saw it was the same guy in the anime shirt she’d made eye contact with earlier in the evening. The chair creaked as he leaned back in it, attempting to look haughty. “From my experience, being invisible just means that the girls you like never like you back and stuff like that. I don’t see how that’s a superpower, like, at all.”
“If the girl doesn’t like you back,” Jade said loudly, “that means she has noticed you. She just doesn’t like you, Nice Guy Syndrome.”
“The name’s Brendan, actually.”
Clea’s eyebrows shot up and she glanced toward Finn and Ingrid, wondering if they were going to step in, but they both looked on with thinly veiled interest. The Awkward Boys all gave Jade identical contemptuous looks, but Brendan actually looked contemplative.
“That’s a fair point, though,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess what I meant to say is the girl you like doesn’t notice you, either. So she can’t like you back, right? Because she doesn’t even know you. You’re not putting yourself out there. You’re not even giving yourself a chance. So you can’t even complain, y’know?”
“That makes sense to me,” Clea said quietly, looking to Finn. “So you’re saying we should give ourselves a chance and try to be noticed? Especially by the people we like?”
Finn opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Once more, his smile faltered just slightly. “I mean, not exactly—”
“What Finn is saying,” Ingrid interrupted, “is that you don’t have to change who you are in order to be accepted. That’s what we’re getting at. So what if you’re an introvert? So what if you have social anxiety?” She gestured around them. “Within these four walls is a place for everyone. And this city is so big that it can be hard to find people to identify with. So let’s start here. Let’s start with getting to know the people in this room, and maybe those of you who are shy or feel invisible will have less trouble reaching out to others out there in order to find the people you fit in with, and those of you who feel too visible or too different will know that there are people out there who won’t judge you. This is only the beginning. These are your first steps. Does that make sense?”
Clea grudgingly had to admit that it did. This sentiment seemed to be shared by the rest of the group, even Jade, who folded her arms and cast her eyes to the ground, mollified.
“Right, right,” said Finn. “The world needs invisible people just like it needs fast-food workers. We can’t all be rich, or who would flip the burgers?”
“That’s gross and classist,” said Jade, and Ingrid pursed her lips like she agreed.
Finn raised his hands, palms up. “What I’m saying is that there is a way to take advantage of being invisible. It’s more like . . . not everyone can be a stage actor. You need stagehands working behind the scenes, or the production will fail. Does that make sense?”
Jade made a face. “I mean, it’s less gross . . .”
“So,” said Ingrid, clapping her hands together, “in the spirit of my friend Finn here digging himself into an ever-deeper hole—”
Finn gave a good-natured guffaw and shrugged, which endeared him to Clea somewhat; she wished she could take being called out with the same grace, especially when she could barely handle the imaginary callouts she was always scolding herself with in her own head.
“—tonight, let’s play a game,” Ingrid finished. “Let’s go around the room, and Finn and I would like to hear about what you would do if you were invisible.”
“Literally invisible or, like, the same things we’re doing now?” Brendan asked.
“Literally invisible,” Ingrid confirmed. “Who wants to go first?”
As they went around the room, some people gave the standard answers—mainly robbing banks and stores and spying on people. One of the Awkward Boys shamelessly announced that he’d use his powers of invisibility to spy on women in the locker room.
“Wow, you’re disgusting,” Jade said loudly, and even Ingrid wrinkled her nose in distaste. Clea, who was still trying to think of a response that wouldn’t embarrass herself, didn’t even react.
“Okay, smart-ass—what would you do?” the guy sneered.
“Oh, that’s easy,” said Jade, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. Unlike Brendan earlier, she was genuinely haughty. “I’d be a vigilante.”
“That’s what I was going to say,” said Brendan, who hadn’t gone yet.
“What kind of vigilante?” Finn asked. He’d perked up a bit from where he stood beside Ingrid, a spark of sharp interest in his pale eyes.
“The kind that serves justice,” Jade said. She stared him down, expression set in stone. “The kind that fucks up rapists who think they’ve gotten away with it and beats up wife beaters and child molesters and anyone else who preys on the innocent. The kind that stands up for people who can’t stand up for themselves. The kind that punches up.”
A slow smile spread across Finn’s face and not the kind smile that Clea had been so used to seeing. For a moment, his expression had a hint of sadistic delight in it, like he was imagining all the things Jade was saying, picturing them in his mind.
Savoring them.
“That’s a very good answer, Jade,” Ingrid said, and even she was smiling. But unlike Finn’s, the usual sharp edge to Ingrid’s smile had softened, like how she’d looked when she’d spoken to the breastfeeding mother at the last meeting. Clea noticed that woman was suspiciously absent and hoped she was all right.
“I think I’d be more like Robin Hood,” said Brendan, unprompted. “Stealing from the rich to give to the poor. Same idea, less violence. Or like Batman.”
Finn’s eyes darted to the boy, and in a beat, he was back to his normal, cheerful self. Clea wondered if she was the only one who noticed the look that had just passed across his face.
“That’s a good answer, too,” Finn said cheerily. Then finally, his eyes moved to Clea, the last person in the room who hadn’t responded. “And what about you, Clea?”
Clea twisted her hands in her lap and looked down at the table, at her empty plate and Styrofoam cup. “I . . . I honestly don’t know.”
“Really? You had all this time to think of something,” sneered the pimply boy who’d called Jade a smart-ass. “You’re the last one to go.”
Jade opened her mouth to retort, but for once in her life, Clea didn’t shrivel up at a taunt; she kept her eyes on Finn and continued:
“I think I would try to use my literal powers of invisibility for good.” She took a deep breath. “But I don’t know. I really don’t. Because I think you don’t really know what you’ll do with a power until you have it, you know? So what’s the point in even thinking about it now?”
“I mean, she’s not wrong,” said Brendan. “Like people who talk about what they will do when they’re rich, and then they get rich and blow all their money on stupid shit.”
“That’s a fair comparison,” said Ingrid, with a wave of her hand. “I suppose.”
But Finn was still looking at Clea, grinning. “That’s a pretty wise answer, too, Clea. Good job.”
“She just couldn’t think of anything else,” Pimply Boy said, rolling his eyes.
Clea clammed up, again desperately wishing she could take being called out with a little more dignity. Instead, her shoulders slumped and she looked away. Is this what the point of this group is going to be, then? Forcing me to be visible by making me feel like an idiot? Is this what my “first steps” are going to be to get over this feeling? Like peeling off a Band-Aid?
Clea didn’t know if she could handle it.
When she didn’t say anything, Jade jumped to her defense. “At least she didn’t say the first perverted thing that came to mind, unlike some people.”
“But Clea does raise a good point,” Finn said. “So I’d like you all to think on this for next time. Really think about what you’d do—not the first thing that comes to your mind. Give yourself some time to digest it.
“And please feel free to come up here for more cocoa and doughnuts for the road! Otherwise, same time next week.”
As people got up and started to file out of the Community Space, Brendan came over to Clea and Jade’s table and said, “Hi, I’m Brendan.”
“You said that, actually,” Jade said.
“Ah, I’m so glad you’re all together,” Finn said, bounding over to them. He leaned over the table and watched as the rest of the group left in a herd and said in a low voice, “You three had the best answers of the group. I was wondering if you’d all like to join me for coffee on Friday evening and talk more about this? That is, unless you’re hitting up some parties or something this weekend.” He laughed. “I wouldn’t blame you in the least, honestly. I’d actually be a bit jealous—I can’t say I’ve met many of my fellow grad students who like to party. We’re all far too busy.”
Brendan, Jade, and Clea gave one another the exact same look: Us? Get invited to a party? Yeah, right.
“I thought you were giving us a week to digest?” Jade said, her dark eyebrows rising up under her bangs.
“Your answers were thoughtful enough without any further need to consider them. So if you don’t mind waxing philosophical with me for a little bit longer without the . . . ah . . . peanut gallery interfering, I’d appreciate it. Philosophy and psychology are hobbies of mine, and it’s rare to get a chance to speak with people with such interesting viewpoints.”
“More interesting than ‘spy on women in the locker room,’ at any rate,” Ingrid said under her breath.
“Sure, why not?” said Brendan, turning to Clea and Jade. “What about you guys?”
Jade looked over Finn’s shoulder at Ingrid. “If she’s there, I’m out.”
“How charming you are.” Ingrid’s smile took on its usual forcedness.
“It’ll just be me, then,” Finn said without missing a beat. When Jade muttered her assent, he looked to Clea. “What do you say?”
Clea inhaled deeply through her nose. All eyes were on her.
“Yeah, sure,” she said. Not because she actually wanted to talk about her answer—which, as Pimply Boy had accused, she had rather come up with on the fly—but simply because she was caving in to peer pressure.
And what else was she going to do on a Friday night? Her usual?
“Great,” Finn said, pulling out his phone, unlocking it, and passing it to Jade. “If I could please get your phone numbers, I’ll start a group chat. Don’t worry, I won’t blow up your phones—the most you’ll get from me is the time and place of our meeting. I was thinking, there’s this coffee shop in the Short North that’s open pretty late. I assume you all have classes during the day.”
The three of them nodded, and Jade passed Finn’s phone to Clea, who put in her number swiftly and passed it to Brendan. Their fingers brushed for just a moment, and he gave her a small smile and made brief eye contact as he took the phone from her. Her heart turned over in her chest, and she swallowed and smiled back.
“I should get your number, too,” said Jade to Clea. “Could you write it down for me, so I don’t have to dig up my phone?”
“For sure,” Clea murmured.
Brendan had given Finn his phone back, and Clea thought for a moment that he was going to ask for her number as well. She breathed a sigh of relief when all he said was “Okay, guys, I guess I’ll see you Friday.”
“See you,” Finn said, waving, as he and Ingrid moved to the table in the front of the room to clean up for the night. Jade and Clea stood and put their coats on, waved goodbye to both of them, and exited the Community Space.
“Well, that was weird as fuck,” Jade said when they crossed the street back on to campus and were roughly in the same place they’d been last time when they parted.
“Was it?” Clea asked. “It didn’t seem too weird to me.”
Jade gave her a look as if she expected Clea to say she was joking. When Clea continued to give her the same blank stare, Jade sighed.
