Fragmented by Eliza Lentzski

by the numerous delays, and I really didn’t want to be around when that frustration boiled over.
    “I’ll go with you,” Kelley said, hopping down from the railing. “You guys coming?” she turned to Lauren and Maia.
    The two made eye contact and shrugged.
    “I kind of want to stick it out,” Maia admitted.
    Lauren shrugged. “We’ve been standing here all day; might as well stand a little longer.”
    The explosions started on our walk to the nearest L stop. In another neighborhood I would have worried we were being shot at, but Kelley and I both paused and looked to the sky. Around the silhouettes of the downtown skyscrapers I could see flashes of colored lights in the direction from which we’d just come.
    “Looks like they gave up on the fire and went right to the grand finale,” Kelley said.
    “Do you want to go back? We can probably still catch most of the fireworks.”
    “No.” She turned on her heel and continued toward the train. “The sooner we get out of this rain, the better. Plus we can beat the crowds.”
    When our train arrived, I collapsed onto the bench seat, grateful for the ability to sit down. We’d been standing for too long in the cold, and my body was feeling its affects. The Green Line was nearly empty at this late hour. Only a few people rode in the car with us, and most of them were sleeping or deeply engrossed in whatever was on their handheld electronic device.
    Kelley blew into her hands. “Well, that was a bust.”
    “Agreed,” I nodded. “And after all of that mounting anticipation, I feel like we should set something on fire, or I’ll be dissatisfied the rest of the night.”
    “Isn’t that what your girlfriend is for?” Kelley said with a knowing smile.
    I cleared my throat. “I guess so.”
    “Are we ever going to meet her?”
    “She would have been here tonight,” I said, “but she had to go to her grandma’s birthday party.”
    “Sounds wild,” Kelley chuckled.
    “Uh huh,” I agreed. “Although I’m kind of wishing I’d done that tonight instead of standing around in the cold.”
    “Yeah, at least you would have gotten some cake out of the deal,” she laughed. “Hey, do you want to come over? Maxwell is supposed to be out with his friends tonight, so we’d have the place to ourselves for a while.”
    Kelley lived on the first floor of a three-level brownstone that she shared with her twin brother, Maxwell. Their parents lived out in the suburbs and paid their rent so they could focus on being fulltime college students. I should have begrudged her for having such a stable home life, but she was sweet and grounded and never took her parents’ generosity for granted.
    “No, thanks. I think I’ll go home, take a long, hot shower, and get into bed.”
    “That sounds dreamy,” she murmured, still rubbing her chilled hands. “I think I’ll probably do the same.”
    The train announced the next stop, and Kelley hopped up from the bench seat. “See you Monday at lunch,” she waved.
    “Yup. Be safe walking home,” I routinely voiced.
    “I will. You, too.”
    The doors chimed and opened and Kelley slid out of the train and onto the elevated platform. She continued to wave at me until the train lurched forward and continued to the next stop.
    I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket. My fingers were still numb from being outside in the cold all evening, and they clumsily worked over the text keyboard to send Jenn a message.
    Are you back from your grandma’s yet?
    Her response came, moments later. No. I’m staying out here tonight .
    Can I convince you to come over instead? I’d make it worth your while , I replied.
    I saw her typing and erasing and typing again as if she was struggling to come up with an answer. It was unfair of me to ask her to come back from the suburbs so late, but there was no harm in asking.
    Hatechu .
    Does that mean you’re on your way? I prodded.
    Can’t. Had too much wine with dinner. Stuck at my parents’.
    I