Tongue Tied

Kinley Thompson

The first thing Simon noticed was the snake tattoo traveling down her spine. Her top was backless, a shiny piece of material that sparkled in the flashing lights around them, connected by a simple silver chain around her neck. The tattoo was completely exposed between her shoulder blades, revealing its smooth, dark lines that formed the slithering serpent.

Simon had gawked at it for a long moment before he noticed the second intriguing thing about the girl. She had on headphones. The white, wired kind that connected to the phone tucked in the pocket of her tight pants. It wouldn’t have been strange except for the fact that they were at a nightclub with blaring music. Other people danced and drank around them, under the trance of the DJ who had been set up near the dance floor. The disco lights flashed assortments of colors, and the bass could be felt through any type of shoe. Even the talk black boots the mysterious girl wore, though she was dancing to a different beat entirely, consumed by her headphones.

He didn’t blame her for not wanting to listen to the garbage that was being played, as Simon was there against his will and didn’t want to either. One of his lab partners had dragged him along, giving the same clique speech that they were young and only got to drink copious amounts of alcohol in their twenties without being judged once. Simon didn’t even drink. He had been watching people in the uncreepiest way possible since he wasn’t fond of liquor. He came from a long line of drinkers, the kind that liked cold beer and bruising their kids. Seeing all the people around him stumbling to the bathroom and thinking they didn’t look like absolute messes when they danced was enough sober entertainment for him.

Then she caught his attention, standing in the crowd of sweaty, thrashing bodies. Only her head bobbed slightly to her own music. Simon wasn’t one to typically approach someone, especially a woman, but her eccentric method of clubbing had him curious. He made his way over to her, tapping her bare shoulder. Her head whipped around, surprised by the sudden touch.

Simon was met with a pair of startling gray eyes as she acknowledged him. Her stare was sharp enough to make him freeze on the spot. Even in the dimness of the disco ball hanging over them, the dark outline circling her irises and smudged eyeliner made her gaze almost glow. She looked supernatural. Her dark hair was in curled tendrils around her shoulders, shades of dark blue peeking through, and the tightness of her mouth showed she wasn’t looking to converse.

Simon still leaned closer, gesturing to her headphones. “Is there a reason you don’t like the lovely techno songs of the 2010s, or are you just a rebel?”

She flicked her eyes up at him, unresponsive. He felt as if he was frozen under a spell, waiting for her to bewitch him. He wouldn’t have even been mad. Instead, she turned away and slipped off into the sea of people.

Simon only hesitated for a moment. His plastered labmates could take care of themselves. He had to know who she was. Maybe he was put under a spell, and she was a siren leading him off into some dark alley. Again, Simon wasn’t opposed, and his heart was pounding from the adrenaline of the possibility. Something in her eyes had latched onto Simon as if wrapping a chain around his neck and pulling him along.

He shoved past shoulder after shoulder, losing sight of her as he reached the front of the club. The chilly night air threw itself inside with short bursts as people entered, giving Simon goosebumps. His shoulders slumped. She was gone.

He sat there for a moment and sulked over the failure to solve his mystery, a rowdy group of men barreling past him. They were nothing but hoots, hollers, and drunk trouble. Simon was sure they would be the cause of some sort of disturbance tonight. He decided to follow them out of the club since he wasn’t eager to go back into the hot and crowded space.

The coolness outside felt nice. He took the time to smoke a cigarette. The cold air and smoke mixed as he exhaled each time, people-watching again. The group of guys was slowly making their way down the street. Simon wouldn’t have even noticed their departure, except for the newfound quiet, if it hadn’t been for one of them yelling out a name.

“Millie... Millie. What are we listening to tonight, babe?” One of them called teasingly, getting playfully jabbed by another as they approached a girl. She cut off into an alley, and Simon just barely caught a glimpse of the snake on her back. He took off after them.

The group trailing after the girl only consisted of four guys. Simon wasn’t a fighter, nor was he nearly as big as these assholes, but one glimpse of what they were doing sent him into battle. The loudest one, the one that had called out the girl's name, was the one that had her cornered. His beefy arms were posted up on each side of her, his silky black shirt shining in the street light. His smile was sleazy, his curly hair greasy, and his face puffy from consistent drinking. Not even close to a winner. If that wasn’t enough of a reason for Simon to dislike him, the way he was smirking at the girl as he had just found his prize for the night was. The other three surrounded them like an audience, their similar snarling expressions making them look demonic in the night.

To her credit, the girl—Millie—didn’t react. When a hand brushed her bare arm, or a finger grazed her cheek, she jerked away, shooting him a mean look. Simon inched forward in case he needed to intervene. He got within earshot as the guys snickered.

“Care to share the song of the night?” The guy in the silk shirt asked, toying with the earbuds Millie still had in her ears.

“She can’t hear you, Trevor. I think she needs to disconnect.” One of the other guys replied, reaching over to snatch Millie’s headphones out. She gasped, launching at the guy for them. “Oh, there she is, feisty as always!”

The headset was held in the air to tease her, the girl thrashing in the grip of Trevor. “Can you hear us now, Millie?”

“Yeah, Millie, you love talking with us, don’t you?” The other boy closed in as the girl went rigid at their words. Her eyes were wide with fear as he leaned against the wall beside her. His hand grazed her skirt. This time she didn’t fight, and since the touching got bolder, Simon went into action.

“She loves doing a lot of stuff with us, huh, Millie? You want to come back to my place. I know you want to—you want to.” Trevor said, his features turning victorious.

“Nah, she wants me.” Said the second guy. She thrashed in the other boy's grip, growling at him in response. Simon stepped into the alleyway. He saw fear and anger in the girl’s eyes as she continued to struggle.

“Don’t fight it—you only make it worse,” Trevor told her, and that caused Simon to rear back and sock him in the face as soon as he got close enough. Trevor’s henchmen quickly advanced on him, and Simon did his best to fend them off. While he might not have been as strong as the men, he had some experience putting fists to faces. He elbowed one guy in the chest. Kicked another in the stomach. Growing up an army brat and dealing with years of moving, the title of new kid, and school bullies had led his father to teach him some defense moves. Not to mention defending himself against the same man who taught him. The sudden attack had all four of the guys scrambling to get away, tails between their legs. Blood covered their faces and stained the black satin shirt that led the group away. The dark eyes of its owner glared at Simon as they fled. In the process, the second guy dropped the headphones.

“Stay away from her!” Simon warned them, only to double down. Only then did he feel the sting in his jaw and taste the metallic flavor of blood on his tongue. A drop had leaked out of his mouth, and his spit the rest out. Someone had gotten a lucky hit. It had happened too quickly for him to decipher which one.

He looked back to check on the girl, only to find her mouth mirroring his own red. Simon froze, finding Millie hunched over on her knees. She looked up at him with her wide gray eyes, hair falling in her face, and blood dripping from her mouth. She threw up again, more dark red splattering onto the concrete. Despite this, she didn’t look alarmed, as if puking up blood was a regular occurrence for her.

Simon just stared at her for a moment, trying to piece together what might have happened. How she knew those random men at a club. How they knew she was, for some reason, dependent on the headphones. As he took in the sight of her, it slowly hit him. This scene before him was the reason the headphones were so important to her. He retrieved her headphones, carefully walking over to her. While her body tensed, she didn’t run. He gestured for her to take them. “You dropped these.”

There was a long moment of her just staring at him before she took the headphones and placed them back in her ears. She then gave a small, blood-coated smile that made Simon’s heart flutter. He gave her a matching one in return.

࿓

Millie shared the loophole to her silence with Simon. It took time, but she eventually opened up to him about her attachment to her headphones. She called it a condition, but that was something a doctor could diagnose. Simon saw it more as an inability to control herself. Others’ words affected her in a way that they did not affect anyone else. Her headphones blocked all of it out—the instructions and demands she didn’t have a choice but to follow if she heard them. Simon had compared her to the movie Ella Enchanted and had gotten slapped on the arm for it. Millie’s “condition” was worse than that. Her body physically rejected the ability to refuse. So, if she couldn’t hear any of the words being projected at her, then she didn’t have to worry about losing control.

Her unfortunate situation meant people had to use their hands instead of their mouths. Simon didn’t know sign language, but Millie had offered to teach him, which led to late nights together. She had been eager to teach him so she could better explain to Simon what was wrong with her. It was her way she could keep her headphones on and still communicate. She couldn't talk, but using sign language gave her a voice.

Simon was impressed by her vow of silence. He was happy that she was sharing it with him, that she trusted him. It led to a friendship blossoming. Along with sign language, he learned that she didn’t have any other friends. She spent many weekends at nightclubs and parties just to feel some sort of socialization. No one ever talked to her, except creeps like Trevor and his crew. Simon quickly learned that wasn’t Millie’s first run-in with them, but he decided it would be the last.

During the days when she couldn’t immerse herself in flashing lights and shiny clothing, she loved to read. It was the only way she could get her hands on words and keep them as such. Just words. She explained she had excelled in high school, but had been passed over due to being seen as unresponsive. She hadn’t even bothered applying to college. She worked at the local library in records.

Her parents were estranged because they could never connect with her. She was always moving because people couldn’t get the hint to leave her alone. Plus, she didn’t want anyone asking too many questions. While Simon could relate to never being stationary for long, he hated that she was so isolated. This led to him sticking around, which then led to the friendship blossoming even more.

He sat with her under their tree in the park one day, watching as she read, his arm around her. He liked seeing her gray eyes zoom across the pages, how she’d bite her lip in anticipation, jumping at every surprise. Her shoulders weren’t tense, and her guard was down. There was no need to keep watch because Simon was now there to do so for her. Dark looks were given. People kept moving. She got to read, unbothered.

His eyes traveled across her pretty face and up to her dark hair, where the blue strips had faded. The headphones rested gently in her ears, blocking out the world. Simon wondered what she listened to. It felt too personal to ask, being the one thing she got to hear and control. She caught him looking, and his eyes darted away to the grass he had been picking with his fingers, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. Millie nudged him, smirking as she always did.

Sorry. He signed, Not trying to stare. She shook her head, smirking. Instead of teasing him for it, she slipped an earbud out and offered it to him. Simon gawked at her and then at the device in her hand. It wasn’t safe for her to take them off. He pushed her hand back towards her. Put it back in—this isn’t safe.

He didn’t feel comfortable talking, too fearful he'd say something that would hurt her. Millie shook her head, insisting he take it. With a lot of hesitation and double-checking to make sure no one was around to harm her with her defenses down, he took a headphone. The sound of classical music filled his left ear.

Millie waited for his reaction, and Simon furrowed his brows in response. No words, just to be safe. She explained.

Her condition was that powerful. She stuck to the instrumental, so no words were able to influence her, not even the kind with a catchy tune. It made Simon’s heart ache. She shoved him softly as he looked at her with sad eyes. Stop looking at me like that. I like classical music.

But that’s all you can listen to.

Millie rolled her eyes, and he knew that she didn’t want to talk about it. They had conversations like that all the time, about how she couldn’t do so many things. A single glance told Simon she didn’t want to mull over it again. Other than sign language, eye contact was their way of connecting. With a single look, Millie could tell him everything she was trying to say. Her fierce gray eyes had a bright enough spark in them to make up for all the words she couldn’t say.

He hadn’t expected to go out on the town that night. Since they had started dating, Simon and Millie had spent most of the time in her studio apartment having lengthy movie marathons. There was an occasional dinner, but there wasn’t much to do with Millie’s condition. He had taken her to some high-end bookstores across town. He was even planning on taking her to Coney Island once it got warmer. It was cheesy enough that she would love the irony in it.

But Simon hadn’t thought to go back to the club where they met. Millie was the one to suggest the idea. It was their regular movie night when she mentioned a good drink and dressing up, her eyes so bright they appeared translucent against the television screen.

Classical music played throughout the apartment. The extra space that wasn’t taken by her bed or dining table was made into a makeshift mini living room where the two sat on a small futon watching The Quiet Place with subtitles.

Simon wasn’t going to tell her no. If she wanted a drink, he would buy it for her. If she wanted to listen to classical in a high-energy club, he’d stand right beside her, dancing too. If she wanted to show off her snake tattoo with a backless top, he would happily watch it slither as she danced all night.

Before he knew they were in line to pay their fee, Millie linked to him by their elbows. Simon was trying his best to keep his breathing steady as they slowly approached the entrance. It wasn’t the hanging out with Millie that made him anxious. It was who was out in public. All that could go wrong was running through Simon’s mind as he handed the bouncer cash. It was what she wanted, and he hadn’t seen her this excited. So he would just be on lookout. Just with Simon being there, he knew she wouldn’t be cornered in some alley, and that gave him a little peace.

They reached the crowd of heated bodies, and Millie was already in the process of dancing. She had her classical pop playlist on shuffle, which was much more upbeat and matched the atmosphere around them. She had never looked so stunning. Simon was just as bewitched now as when he had first seen her a few months ago. Her snake tattoo was unfortunately hidden under a black crop top and his leather jacket, which was oversized on her. But she had donned her thigh-high boots again with a tight skirt. Her hair was wild with curls, barely contained by a headband. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, though that wasn’t new.

He watched her jump from one foot to the other, happily. Simon took a moment to just capture her spirit, a blissful smile taking over his features. He then took a deep breath and stepped forwards, hoping the small idea he had had would make her night even better.

He had to gather the courage to tap her shoulder, earning a curious look as he held out his hand for her to take. Is there a reason you don’t like the lovely techno songs of the 2010s, or are you just a rebel? He asked her the same question as when he had first dared to talk to her.

This time, instead of a disinterested look, she quirked a humorous eyebrow at him. I like to think I am a rebel. Plus, my music taste is better.

Simon smirked, revealing his own pair of headphones. Care if I listen too then?

He had stashed them away in his coat pocket. Millie’s eyes widened as he put them in. After syncing their phones to their shared playlist, the same music began to play. Simon led Millie deeper into the crowd. Speedy classical blasted in their ears simultaneously, and they danced in their own bubble. Instrumental Avril Lavigne and Matchbox Twenty played out just for them. The playlist slowly shifted, just as Simon planned, to something slower.

Millie leaned in close with her wondrous gray eyes staring into Simon’s soul. He silently asked if she would dance with him. Despite this not being a high school slow dance, she grinned, a rare blush appearing on her face as she nodded. His hands gently wrapped around her waist, and he took one of her hands as they started to shuffle back and forth. The DJ played songs that made the crowd go wild around them, but the two stayed where they were, slowly rocking in unison. Millie shifted so that her head lay on Simon’s chest, and his arms wrapped her in a hug.

As they swayed, she reached up right where she could feel his heart racing with her hand and began to trace out letters. T-H-A-N-K Y-O-U.

Simon smiled as he did the same across her back, right over her covered tattoo. 

A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G F-O-R Y-O-U.

࿓

Her head lifted, and he was shocked as she reached up to kiss him. Simon cupped her face as their lips pressed harder together. “The Night We Met” blasted in their ears as he pulled away. Millie beamed at him. Her eyes were like the night sky under a full moon.

She held up her hand where her pointer and middle fingers were twisted together, her sign for the bathroom, pecking his cheek before scurrying off. He watched her walk out as fireworks went off in his stomach. It was short-lived as someone shoulder-checked him from behind.

“Watch it, asshole.” He said, snarling as he saw Trevor and his goons walk by. Just from the smell of them, he could tell they were wasted. The boy shot him a loose smirk, muttering something as they headed for the bathrooms.

Simon waited for Millie to get back, a frown stuck to his features after seeing her stalker. It gave him a bad feeling in his gut. He waited ten minutes, about to go and search for her, when she returned. She was readjusting her headphones as she stumbled towards him. Her headband was missing. Her curls looked disheveled. Her hands ran through them haphazardly.

He scowled, seeing the wide-eyed look on her face. Everything okay?

She nodded quickly. The bathroom was crowded. Her eyes darted around the room without the sparkle they had held before she left. Can we go? These boots are killing me.

Simon didn’t question her as he held his arm out for her, and they left.

࿓

Something changed in Millie that night. After their dance, there was a darkened glint in her eyes that had replaced the sparkle. Simon gave her space, but after a week of tense silence, he had to pry.

They sat on the couch watching their newest show. Millie had taken a spot on the opposite side of the funky orange futon, leaving him alone on the other end. Usually, she would snuggle up next to him without her headphones, fully relaxed with Simon’s fingers running through her hair. The timidness that typically left her shoulders when she stepped into her room hadn’t dissipated, and they were halfway through an episode of Veronica Mars.

Simon reached over and tapped her foot so as not to scare her, tearing her eyes away from the show. Are you okay?

Yeah. Her short answer was enough to make him hesitate.

Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird since...His hands froze as he thought of the right way to phrase himself. Millie stared back at him with sharp eyes. You’ve just been acting weird.

Her face scrunched in an irritated manner, and she turned her head back to the television without answering.

Millie, you can tell me. I want to help.

She still didn’t respond, and Simon almost spoke to get her full attention. Usually, she would listen to him, or at least look in his general direction, so he could sign his sentences. But this time she didn’t give him the chance, so he had to turn off the television. Millie frowned when the screen cut off. He gestured for her to answer his question.

Nothing is wrong. She insisted.

Why are you lying?

I’m not.

It was his turn to frown. Her ears were rimmed red, giving her away. The glare that had been in her eyes darkened as she waited for him to test her. Simon didn’t normally push, but he knew something was eating at her, enough to fight her. Tell me, please.

Nothing is wrong, Simon, drop it.

A huff escaped him. He swallowed hard. “Tell me.”

Millie’s eyes widened, fear falling over her features at the sound of his voice. Her limbs went rigid before she sprang up from the couch to get away from him. Simon hated how scared she looked, but he needed to know. He stood slowly and followed her around the sofa with open arms.

“Please, Millie, just tell me.”

She shook her head, stumbling back, hair falling in her face. Anger bubbled in Simon’s chest as he pleaded with her. He had been patient with her the whole time, and he was still trying to help, but she wouldn’t let him. “I just want to help, but you’re not listening to me. What happened last weekend? I know it was something bad. Was it me—the dance? Did someone hurt you? Just tell me!”

Her body shuddered, and she coughed, grasping her chest. Blood started to drip down her chin. She looked at him with horrified features. It was enough to make him freeze. The rest of the words stuck in his throat. He should take them back. “Millie, I’m sorry.”

She crumpled to the floor. Simon’s heart stopped as he rushed to her. He wrapped her up in his arms as she started to convulse, resisting whatever was forcing her to speak.

“I’m sorry, I take it back, I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. Millie—please!” He begged, wanting the pain on her face to disperse. The jolting only worsened as her eyes rolled back into her head. “Millie! Please, whatever happened, it isn’t worth it.”

Her hand grasped his wrist tightly, her nails digging into his skin. She was ghastly pale. Blood spilled from her mouth. He flipped her onto her side to see if that would help, but she only coughed up more. Simon shook her violently.

“Millie.”

She suddenly went limp. Her body fully relaxed. Her hand let go of his wrist. Simon couldn’t even feel the slightest beat of her heart as he placed a hand on her chest. A sob racked his body. Slowly, he took her into his embrace. He sat there on the floor with her wrapped in his arms, her headphones a few feet away on the floor.

࿓