“Just once I’d like to get to work on time,” a man in scrubs muttered.
“Just once I’d like to get anywhere on time,” another person agreed, “but that ain’t going to happen on a city bus.” Everybody laughed.
Sophie wasn’t in any hurry, but she didn’t like the heat. She fanned herself with her hand, feeling her face flush. A familiar anxiety crept over her. Not now, please, she willed herself. Not now, not now not
A woman beside her was holding Sophie’s arm, and Sophie shoved her hand away, inching the other way in her seat.
“Whoa!” said somebody on that side.
Three people were picking something up off the floor.
“You dropped these,” said a man in scrubs, placing some coins in her hand. “Threw them, actually.”
She shoved them into her empty pocket, where her own change should have been. The other two people handed her more coins.
She tried to gather her mind back. First check: Bladder okay? She shifted in her seat to check. Yes, thank goodness. That had happened only once, but once had been enough. Wallet? Yes. ID bracelet? Yes. Keys? Yes. Change? All over the floor. Where was she? Bus. Heading to the meeting space. Heading away from home. Engine problem. Brain present and accounted for? Mostly. A few casualties, Sergeant.
“Are you okay?” whispered the old woman on her left.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” What was the proper response to that question. “I’m okay. Are you?”
“Yes, but I didn’t just fling money across the bus and then stare into space while everybody else picked it up.” The woman took on a reproving tone. “If you’re okay, that’s a strange thing to do. If you’re not okay, it’s more understandable.”
“I’m okay.” Sophie stood and swung her bag onto her back. She didn’t want to be on this bus anymore. She pushed the rear door, but it didn’t open, and when she tried the stop-request cord, it didn’t ring.
“Can I get off?” she called to Javon.
“Sit tight,” he said over the intercom, to her and everyone. “I promise we’ll be on our way shortly. They’re sending another bus.”
“I’ve got to get off.”
“Then come to the front door.”
Sophie walked the aisle with all the dignity she could muster. She felt every eye on her. Where before she had relished the attention, demanded it, now she wished herself invisible. Why couldn’t they ignore her?
“Thanks a lot,” she said to Javon in her most sarcastic tone as she stepped off.
“No transfer if you leave now,” the driver said. “Are you sure you want to get off in this neighborhood?”
“This is my stop. I was heading here.”
She walked in the direction the bus had been heading. Where had they stopped? She recognized the neighborhood. Javon was right: it wasn’t a great one. Nothing but liquor stores and check-cashing joints. She didn’t want to be here on her own if she had another seizure, however unlikely that was. She could always call her moms from one of the liquor stores and sit tight. Val would arrive no questions asked, the guilt trip unspoken, or else Julie would ream her out and then it would be over and done with. She couldn’t do it.
She walked until the bus was out of sight, then stuck out a hand to gesture for a ride. Hack cabs, private drivers picking up passengers for cash, were the only ones that traveled this stretch of road, but that worked for Sophie. Hacks were cheaper, and besides, a hack would take her money and not give her grief. A ride-share app would trade her information privacy for convenience; not to mention she’d left without her phone.
Three minutes passed, then five. The new bus roared by. As it passed, Javon saluted her, but didn’t stop to let her on again. This night had to get better.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JULIE
Sophie displaced a lot of air these days, with her stomping feet and her slamming exits. By now, Julie had practice in nonresponse. She didn’t rush to the window, or worse yet, the door, as Val did. She didn’t shout after her departing daughter.
Instead, she started a bath. She poured herself a generous glass of cheap Malbec, cranked her let it out, sister curated station loud enough for Blondie to make sure she couldn’t hear herself think, cycled down her Pilot to its lowest setting, and dumped enough lavender bath salts into the tub to saturate herself in relaxation. She picked the cheesiest-looking audio romance novel in the library app, pressed play, and closed her eyes.
She chose not to think about the dangers that lurked beyond their front door. Not that the house had ever kept Sophie safe. There was no safe place for Sophie in this world. A room full of pillows, maybe.
Val was so much better than Julie at hiding her protective instincts from Sophie. Sophie had developed into the kind of teen who would do the opposite of anything you wanted her to do. She homed in on anything you held back, like a boxer recognizing an opponent’s weak point. Maybe someday she would recognize that her mothers had her best interests at heart. For now she chafed, she seethed, she slammed the door on them hard enough to blur the literal and the figurative; and Julie bathed, and bathed again, and smelled of lavender.
She had only offered to drive Sophie to her FreerMind Association meeting space; she shouldn’t have. Moreover, she definitely shouldn’t have said she’d prefer Sophie get home by midnight, and definitely definitely shouldn’t have said Sophie should get a hobby outside of protest-planning meetings. She hadn’t meant FreerMind was a hobby; it was amazing they’d hired Sophie and Gabe to run the local field office. Even if it paid a pittance, it was the only job around that truly valued non-Piloted staff over Piloted. She’d meant she’d love to see Sophie doing art or puzzles or something again, maybe going to community college,
