It was the middle of winter. The new year had come around, and it was now February. Each day, more red and pink seemed to be going up everywhere for the upcoming holiday. The amount of extra bright pink, combined with the higher volume of giggles that had been building gave me a bit of a headache.
My train of thought was derailed when my attention was grabbed by my friend, ${friend}. At least, I assumed she was my friend. We sat next to each other in class and at lunch and would talk sometimes after school, but I was never 100% sure if we were friends or what, or what that would entail, even. She was usually pretty outgoing; which was good, considering I've never had much luck with making friends. It seems most anyone else can just...talk to people, but that seems beyond me for some reason. My Mom and therapist say that it's a social disorder or anxiety of some sort. Whatever the case, I'm...glad that ${friend} decided to hang out with me, for whatever her reason to—
"${name}?"
I snapped back to reality, seeing ${friend} trying to get my attention again. I've never been good at keeping attention on anything, to be honest, though thankfully it hasn't affected my grades much.
"${name}, do you wanna...go have dinner this weekend? There's this new place that ought to be fairly nice," she asked, being surprisingly tentative. Ordinarily, she was a lot louder and outgoing.
This wouldn't be the first time we'd had dinner, though usually it was also with one or another set of our parents. You know, just as friends. No reason why this one, in the middle of February, would be any different.
***
The restaurant, like many no doubt are today, is festooned with hearts of pink and red. It's a nice place, but not too nice; a perfectly fine family restaurant, filled mostly with couples rather than families today. The lights are at a decent level, and thankfully the sound of the diners are quiet enough I should be able to concentrate. If I'm lucky, I won't be incidentally hearing a half-dozen conversations at once. The smell of a dozen different meals, plus even more different perfumes in the air dizzies me a bit, but I can deal with it for a bit.
Sometime after being seated and ordering, a squeal of feedback went through the speakers of the restaurant as the quiet background music was replaced with someone with a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, to serenade you on this most romantic of days, let me introduce you to 'The Lovebirds'"!
A cacophony rang out. The instruments, playing over each other with microphones way too close turned way too loud, played at full volume, stunning me. Instantly, I screwed my eyes shut and clamped my hands over my ears. This was way, way too much. The restaurant was more or less fine since I had a heads up; I knew there was only so much social interaction I would need to do, but this? This was an assault on the senses. I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't, I couldn't, I couldn—
I needed to leave. To go somewhere, anywhere. The feeling of sensory overload was crashing down on me, and I can't make a scene here. I start to bolt, but end up guided by a pair of surprisingly gentle hands to a quieter, darker location. It felt...safe. Less input from everywhere.
***
It took several minutes before I could manage to look around. It seemed like a back room at the restaurant, but surprisingly cozy. The faint strains of the band are only barely audible to my sensitive ears. Finally, I managed to focus on the person that had guided me here. It was... "${friend}?" I asked quietly. Oh, man, she must hate me now. I've already been enough of a pain for her in everyday life at school, now she has to see me like this? But then, why is she still here? She's been sitting quietly, waiting for me to recover...but why would she do that?
Her hand reached out, then hesitated. I was never great with gentle touches at times like this. It made me wish for my weighted blanket and its soothing pressure. "Are you...more centered now?" she asked, as if uncertain what the right phrasing was. I wasn't sure how to respond, but I think I nodded somewhat, though I'm not sure she was able to see it in the darkened room. "Some friend I am," she started, "Try to make a date and I end up choosing the loudest one in the area. I'm sorry."
I blink in surprise. Date? As in...?
Seeing the confusion on my face, she takes a breath and confesses, "