Red Flag Roundup

By Leo Jerez

“So I walk into my bathroom, hearing this vibrating sound, and—to my horror—he’s got MY electric toothbrush in his mouth. He looks me dead in the eyes…” I stick my finger in my mouth for dramatic effect, “and he says, ‘Hey, Alice, hope you don’t mind I use your toothbrush’.” I finish with a gag.

Clyde bursts into something between laughter and disgust.

“Oh, gross!” he says when he can manage to get the words out. “Yup, there’s your red flag, one hundred percent.”

I respond in kind with a snicker, which threatens to morph into my authentic, embarrassing laugh. For someone I only interact with once a week, I find Clyde incredibly disarming. He sits across from me in the same weekly business-casual look, briefcase beside him, brushing away curls of brown hair from his eyes only for the train’s motion to make them fall right back across his tanned forehead.

I settle down, folding my hands neatly atop my stack of book returns for the Smithtown Library. I wait patiently for his weekly update with a smile and my head tilted as if to say I’m all ears. The sun is warm against my freckled face as the train takes its last curve toward its destination. It takes every ounce of willpower not to pat down any bright blonde flyaways the sunlight no doubt reveals.

“My turn?” Clyde says as he lets out a breath and once again attempts, but fails, to push his curls away from his face. “Well…I got matched with this girl. We met up for dinner; she was a great conversationalist. We agreed to see each other again after her family’s trip to DC. Things were looking pretty good…”

“Until?”

“Until…she posted a selfie.”

“Now you’re just being mean. You’ve never posted a selfie?”

“Not in front of the Holocaust Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe…”

“Oh…”

He leans in, “...with the caption: Vibin at some Jewish place.”

“OK, for once I have no words. Other than the obvious—”

“Red flag. Yup.”

The train pulls into Smithtown not long after, and we go our separate ways with a “See you next week” and “Good luck!”

* * *

This has been our little ritual for longer than I can recall. Clyde donning his best business casual, sitting in the same train car each week from Penn Station. Me on my Monday commute to the library to exchange last week’s reads for my new holds. Despite spending most rides reading and keeping to myself, somehow it became clear that we followed a similar schedule.

Maybe he noticed my cheesy romance novels first, or perhaps it was the dating app icons I glimpsed on his phone screen, but quickly we discovered we shared a similar roundup of red flag offenders in our dating history. Thus, the swapping of stories began.

* * *

The weeks continue like this.

I start to look forward to telling Clyde about whatever red flag I discover, more so than the dates themselves.

“He brought me back to his place. I was honestly into it…then he showed me his Pokemon Collection for the next four hours.” Red flag.

“Our dinner conversation was a detailed rundown about each of her exes and how they were all crazy.” Red flag.

“Plaid sheets.” Enough said. Red flag.

“She claimed her pet hamster was her therapist and swore she could communicate with it.” Bat-shit crazy. Red flag.

“He didn’t know who Beyoncé was.”

“She said Laugh Out Loud…out loud.”

RED. FLAG.

* * *

It’s Monday again. I walk onto the train and don’t see my curly-haired friend. A knot forms in my belly, and I recognize just how much I’ve come to look forward to our weekly venting session. I try to open my book, but I’m unable to pull my gaze away from Clyde’s empty seat.

The realization hits. I miss him.

In the little time we’ve shared together, we’ve been vulnerable, sharing experiences. He’s always sincere and kind with his advice; he even allegedly loves my obnoxious laugh. I wish we had exchanged numbers. I’m now tapping my foot and biting my lip as I go through improbable reasons for his absence.

Did I insult him? I feel a vise squeezing my chest from the inside, leaving me with only shallow, frantic gasps of air. Maybe he found someone. My stomach drops. My palms are slick with sweat. Will I ever see him again?! The world seems to shrink, the edges blurring, as all my energy is channeled into this overwhelming wave of anxiety.

The train arrives, and I get to the library to check in my books.

“You’re all set. Friendly reminder: your one other book will be overdue soon,” the librarian says.

I look at him as if he’s speaking another language. I bring all of my returns at the same time every week. I never misplace a library book. This on top of the weirdness of not seeing Clyde today; it’s too much to handle. The emotions in my stomach threaten to bubble up when I’m interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind me.

“I think you may have left this on the train, miss,” an unmistakable voice says.

I about-face immediately, a watery smile already forming on my lips as inner turmoil from moments ago is chased away by butterflies that have invaded my stomach.

Clyde is holding my book out towards me. He’s in more casual clothes than I’m used to seeing him in, a graphic tee and a dark pair of jeans. It seems he skipped work and came straight to the library.

Clyde’s brow furrows in concern, noticing my expression.

“I’m sorry I messed with our train routine. I, uh, thought I’d just meet you here and return it to you…maybe grab some coffee?” he says.

I stare at him, my mouth working repeatedly like a fish just discovering an oxygenated world, but no words come out.

Clyde starts, clicking his tongue as if realizing something.

“Wait, is it a red flag if I hold your book hostage and skip work to give it to you at the library I know you're going to, like a total stalker?” he says.

I smile, my ridiculous laugh escaping me.

“Nope. Green flag. For sure.”

💕💕💕💕💕

---

Leo Jerez is an Afro-Latino writer and software engineer who helps build complex systems by day and impossible worlds by night. A lifelong nerd, he’s equally at home over a chessboard, deep in a game, or working hard at the writing desk. Leo writes short stories and flash fiction while working on his debut contemporary fantasy series, crafting relatable characters who face improbable odds in extraordinary worlds. His work explores found family, heroism, and emotional connection through immersive, sensory-rich prose. He’s also a devoted husband to his high-school sweetheart and a proud dad to a rambunctious mini-me. Connect with Leo at leojerezwrites.com.