BooksBarbecue
Back The Infinite Noise Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

Sometimes being out and about in the city can be way too overwhelming. All those people feeling all those different things, weaving in and out of my body like hot and cold breezes. But today, I put on my headphones and click on the link to listen. “Arsonist’s Lullaby” starts to play and I tune out the world around me, focusing on typing back a thanks to Adam. Texting him back brings up all the feelings I had during our lunch, and that warm, solid feeling moves into my chest again. Even just thinking about Adam makes me feel a little less like a sponge that doesn’t get a say in what it soaks up.

As the song winds down, I start to feel jittery, the protective shield around me beginning to crack. I can feel my heartbeat kicking up as buzzing enters my head, making me slow and dizzy. Whatever peace I’d had just a second ago is being destroyed by someone’s emotions.

The feelings are grating at me—making me clench my jaw and shove my fists into my coat pocket. Something isn’t right. This isn’t just the noise of a busy street’s feelings. This is coming from one place.

I look around me for a person in crisis. A rush of anger and sadness has pushed into me, making it hard to breathe. Someone who feels this way has to be noticeably upset, right? You can’t just carry this with you all the time.

But looking around me, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. People rushing to work, talking on their cell phones, a college student trying to get signatures on some petition, a homeless man sitting against a building—normal city stuff.

No, the only thing out of the ordinary is me.

22

ADAM

I don’t know how it happens, but after that first awkward, amazing, painful, incredible lunch, Caleb and I keep going. Exactly a week later, I find myself taking my Pizza Wednesday pizza out to the bench behind the gym and sitting down like I belong there. And that’s when things get really bizarre—Caleb comes out, sees me, and sits down like I belong there. We sit in the cold and stare at each other for a few seconds before Caleb does this little blinking thing like he’s resetting. Then he launches into a story about how he thought it might be worth it to read The Aeneid in the original Latin and get some extra credit for both classes and I’m so charmed that I momentarily forget how to breathe.