by L. B. Carter
Rena slunk up the stairs, ready for a shower and sleep. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. Pausing on the top landing, she noticed Grandpa’s bedroom door was open. Flicking on the light confirmed his bed was empty. Trooping back downstairs, she flipped the switch to the living room. Grandpa was asleep in his chair. He must’ve been there a while, based on the fact that he hadn’t turned a light on, although the sun set not long after she left.
She tiptoed over and gently removed the whittling knife from his loose hold, placing it on the table next to his new project. She glanced at it and paused.
The scene was a tree-covered mountain with a small clearing on which Grandpa had carved the outline of a wood cabin. It wasn’t wholly finished. The bottom half of the miniature windows and door had yet to be crafted out so the building appeared to rise straight out of the wavy surface carved across the rest of the buoy like an iceberg. On the other side, also marring the smoothed base, a curved lump rose next to a thin wall jutting upward. Rena moved closer, realizing it was the back and tail of a whale. It wasn’t unfinished—the house was partially underwater.
Rena glanced back at the drooping cheeks and sagging bags under Grandpa’s eyes, noticing the heavy lines denting his forehead and thick brows pulled down even in sleep. She knew the Coast Guard was becoming more and more overworked and hectic as the coastlines migrated inland and became more hazardous to people. This was the first she’d seen him address it. His pieces usually portrayed the beauty of nature, not the danger.
She gently removed his glasses and added them to the table, then hesitated for a moment. With a breath, she placed a hand on his arm, giving it a slow shake.
Grandpa grunted and groaned as his slumped back straightened and he blinked heavy lids open, frowning until he took in his foster child crouched beside his armrest. The frown deepened. “You can’t run off like that, Guppy,” he scolded. “You didn’t take your phone or keys. How was I to know where you went or if you were okay?”
She hung her head, indicating with body language her apology.
He sighed heavily. “I didn’t mean to push you so quickly,” Grandpa ruminated. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. I just want to see you happy. I’m not going to be with you much longer, and that leads me to jump in a little fast.” It sounded almost like an anticipation of death rather than referencing her impending move. “Next time, please just tell me that you aren’t ready, rather than running, okay? On my part, I’ll take it slower. Deal?”
A salute for the man who’d been in the coast guard his whole life was rewarded with a slight smile. He went to pat her head and paused, his eyes wary as though asking permission.
Baby steps. Rena steeled herself and rose a bit until the warmth of his shaky palm pressed against her sweaty hair. There. This was fine. No problem. The cut on her lip recommenced bleeding. Pride and love lit his eyes and he suddenly looked much younger, despite the salt-and-pepper beard covering most of his face. Rena inhaled slowly, counting to ten. His palm slid softly down her temple to cradle her cheek, as the beads of sweat had only a short while before. It tickled a bit with how carefully he was touching her. Her heart started to race.
“I’m so proud of you, my Guppy.” Grandpa’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears of joy. He leaned forward in the chair, bringing his lips to her forehead.
Too much! Rena jumped backward, falling on her butt on the floor as she scrambled away, heart pounding.
Grandpa remained where he was, his hand hovering as though embracing a ghost. His expression sagged like the cushion under him. He shook it off a moment later and pushed himself to a stand, seeming to regain excitement with each inch he rose. “I pushed too far again. I apologize. That was good, Guppy. It’s wonderful to be able to caress my granddaughter. Thank you for that gift. I promise to wait for more until you’re ready.”
Snap. Half on the rug, half on the hardwood, Rena allowed herself a shy smile that radiated a little less wattage than his.
“C’mon, Guppy, it’s been quite a day. Let’s head to bed.” He waited while she gained her feet and started in front of him up the stairs. She waited at the top until he reached it, much slower than her. Before they parted ways he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. Her eyes traveled down to it.
“Sorry.” He dropped it to his side again. “I know this is tough for you, but do an old man a favor and don’t vanish like that again, okay?”
Knowing he’d worried about her, more than he already did, she reached out and after a moment gave a single pat to the flannel covering his shoulder.
He grinned. “Getting better already. Good night, Guppy.”
She waved and headed into her bedroom, stripping as soon as the door was shut and turning on the shower, reluctantly. The bed looked so inviting. She froze, completely naked in the bathroom, steam clouding her in warmth that did little to dispel the cold that settled into her stomach.
If Grandpa hadn’t known where she’d gone, how had Coach known about Their homework assignment?
Chapter Twelve
The promising prospects from their weekend investigating fueled Nor’s intent. He focused on his target: one of two people he had hoped to leave town never interacting with again.
Shayna Tate chatted to her friend with excessive gesturing, not even pretending to work on the pile of dirt centered on the unmoving wheel she straddled. Miniskirts were really inappropriate attire for pottery. Thankfully, lip-reading from across the room required Nor’s full attention since she spoke fast and turned her head often, with a toss of glossy hair. He had no idea how he was going to talk to her alone. As popular as an upper-class teen girl blessed with womanly curves at a young age was, a small hoard of so-called friends, admirers or JT seemed to always flank her. That dick. If he got him out of the way, it would be a bonus.
“Never transcend beyond the artistic plane,” Paul reprimanded and Nor dutifully spent a few minutes pressing clay into a wide bowl. The teacher’s voice spoke again from the next wheel over. “A happy flower; petals open to embrace the world.”
Nor shifted his eyes. Sirena grinned up at Paul, her hands around the thick base of a convex serving bowl. Her smile was almost as wide as the bowl’s rim, and the contentment she exuded would more than fill its massive volume. It was a sharp contrast to the shuttered victim on the beach, whose eyes had been equally wide, but empty, bottomless wells. This Sirena was empowered and in control, even more so than the serene one he’d seen the Monday after the party. What had triggered the switch?
He didn’t realize he was emulating her grin until it fell from his face at the sound of Shayna Tate’s nasal voice informing them all that Sirena was more of a weed than a flower.
Interestingly, Nor caught Shayna fixated on him when he looked back and swiftly hid his expression. Sirena didn’t need defending. He was almost anticipating another clay projectile, especially with the confident armor she had on at present. In any case, he needed to switch sides. Aware that Shayna thought he’d thrown the clay the last time she’d insulted Sirena, Nor suspected she was probably just trying to rile him. Shit. Reed had been right about ‘fraternizing’ coming back to bite him in the ass. This was going to require being an ass to Sirena.
“The most pungent plant on Earth is a flower: the corpse flower.” The same way Barb often did to Tom, Nor raised a brow in challenge. Shayna Tate’s plucked brow rose in acknowledgment. There was a rustle of movement as others in the room also recognized the ensuing battle. The wheel behind Nor fell silent. He kept his eyes on his opponent, who licked her lower lip as though his slander were a delectable dessert. He imagined lip-gloss didn’t taste so great. Characteristically, Shayna Tate demonstrated that she didn’t prioritize comfort above a good performance.
“How fitting for a ghost. At least I’m not the one sitting within range of its odor,” she taunted.
The chair behind creaked. Staunchly Nor remained fixated on his target who was fairly blooming under his attention. “I think that implies I’m stro
ng enough to withstand it.”
She made a show of eying his arms and chest. He allowed the scrutiny and waited for her rebuttal patiently. She set him up perfectly. “I assumed you thought it was beautiful.” Her eyes narrowed until the blue irises were hidden behind unnaturally long and thickened lashes.
“I think I’m allergic. ” He continued, metaphorically crushing Sirena’s delicate petals with one final stomp. “And some flowers are just more beautiful than others.”
Shayna Tate’s lashes fluttered and her teeth bit down on her lip, fully blossomed thanks to the dual effects of his comment lifting her up and slamming Sirena into the ground. Her friend giggled. Someone gasped. Sirena... Nor didn’t know what Sirena did and that felt uncomfortable like an itch. He held his eye contact a bit too long, then suggestively glanced at the door.
“Allergies can be dangerous: shortness of breath; your lips get all tingly. Usually I find sucking an inhaler helps.”
One thing Nor was grateful for was that Shayna Tate picked up on his insinuation. But hot damn, this girl did not mess around with her innuendos. Liam and Reed had nothing on Shayna and Nor. Or rather, it was pretty clear she did mess around.
“I happen to have an inhaler on me. I could use another hand getting it to work.” There were snickers. Nor was not looking forward to when this class ended and the gossip spread. He hoped it would be worth it for the information and he wouldn’t have to knock out JT again for nothing.
His target said something to her friend without her baby blues leaving Nor’s, gracefully swung a leg over the wheel and stood. She wasn’t the least bit satirical with the finger she crooked at him before waltzing to the door. She nimbly grabbed the bathroom pass without altering her hip-swaying stride, then turned her head to call over her shoulder, “Bathroom, Paul,” and give another lascivious look at Nor, concluding the scene with a sashay into the hall.
Nor took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The mutterings and movement around him didn’t matter. The self-disgust congealing his gut didn’t matter. The success at cornering his quarry did.
He took his time rubbing the excess clay off his fingers and scrupulously inspecting between them for any he missed, then dried them on the dirty towel beside his wheel. He stood, straightened his shirt, ran a hand through his hair and headed toward the door, heedless of the stares that were almost tangible. “Bathroom, Paul,” he also called out.
That seemed to penetrate the ‘transcendence’ Paul had achieved painting some minute details on a pot at his overflowing desk. “Someone is already on a journey.”
“I’m not feeling well,” Nor countered, fairly honestly. “I don’t think I can wait.” Also true; he’d miss his chance and likely ruin the rapport he’d just built. He must really have looked as ill as he felt, because when Paul eventually blinked up at him he just dismissed him with a wave of his hand, flicking paint all over various papers from his tiny brush.
He didn’t mean to. He had been adamant in disallowing his eyes to dart to the side. It wasn’t something he truly wanted to witness. Alas, it was his periphery that failed him. Betrayal removed any trace of the exuberance Sirena’s features had displayed earlier. In that moment, Nor was just as bad as the people their organization worked against. It was as if Reed’s dagger had sunk into his stomach the same way it had in the tree near Sirena’s house. A little bit more, Nor empathized with his brother.
As it turned out, Nor had only the length of the corridor to try to numb the self-hatred and redirect his mind, before an arm snaked out of the men’s restroom and snagged his belt-loop. He fell through and righted himself to find his target backing toward the sinks, her heels clicking on the tiles like the timer of a bomb and echoing around the empty stalls. He’d already checked they were alone, of course; must be aware of the surroundings.
Nor thought he’d have more time to prepare himself. He’d been heading toward the bathrooms-of-unspoken-mistakes in the history wing. Evidently, his target wasn’t that picky and a lot more urgent. The shorter walk had somehow been enough time for Shayna to re-shine her lips. Once again the performance was flawless as she lured him in like a juicy bird in a lion’s cage, a willing, self-sacrificing bird.
“Well. How about I help you with your condition, huh?”
“Listen—”
Flipping their roles, Shayna pounced, latching all limbs around him as if she were a vine and he a trellis. Lip-gloss really did taste awful. She was a thin girl, but her height added weight and Nor lurched a step back, unprepared as he was, banging into the door. He instinctively moved his hands to support her and met bare flesh thanks to her short skirt riding up. If Reed could see him now. Learn to talk to girls, my ass.
He carried her ass to the sink and replaced warm palms with cold porcelain. She gave a muted shriek. “Slow down,” he implored while his mouth was free, restricting her grabby hands and holding them at bay. He was reminded of Kayna’s little brother making clutching motions at his sister.
Undeterred, she leaned forward to purr in his ear. “More of a slow and sensual guy, huh? I can do that.”
“Shayna.” His voice sounded strangled.
“Mmm?” Her lips met his neck.
“I need to know…” Over her shoulder, Nor caught sight of himself in the mirror, wrapped in the arms of a girl several years younger, even if she was more experienced. He needed this to stop. “I want to know about your relatives.” Nice. That opening was as smooth as rolling down a gravel hill.
She leaned back. “My relatives? Why?” Her forehead wrinkled. This close he could clearly see the layer of makeup caking the surface like the clay on his hands. He opened his mouth with no idea how to save the conversation, when her face cleared and a devious look curled her smudged lips. “You looking for a threesome?”
Sure. Why the hell not. That idea might defer any present action, at least. “Yeah.”
She pouted, jutting her bottom lip out in a way he was sure she’d used a mirror to perfect. “I’m not enough?"
“No! It’s not that. It’s just…” He floundered, trying not to piss off the woman from whom he wanted to pry secrets.
Sitting back against the mirror, Shayna waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “My cousin doesn’t live in town anymore anyway. And I’m not willing to share with my mother, no matter how much she tries.”
Revolting. “Why did she leave? I have a...thing for family members.” Nor internally cringed. Never mind, he did not want Reed to see him now.
“Kinky.” Shayna winked. “Jen’s just so over it here,” she responded flippantly.
He fed her a false option. “An ex?”
“Nah. Her dad died. I don’t think she really cared about losing her ex.” He noticed the term ‘her dad,’ not ‘my uncle.’ Kayna’s comment about Shayna being unfeeling toward her relatives seemed to be holding up. “Her loss, if you know what I mean.” He did. He wished he didn’t. “Andrew’s secretly quite the fire cracker.” Andrew? Cupid Andrew? Andrew and Justin, at least, behind JT’s back? Not that Nor felt bad for JT. That asshole had also tried to cheat on her, in the worst way.
“Andrew was dating your cousin?”
Shayna snorted and looked to the side, blasé. “I guess, but only because she was his in at BSTU.” So Nor needed to talk to Cupid. “Whatever. He gets me now. And you can too, lucky duck.” With Nor’s fingers still encircling her wrists, his arms involuntarily rose with hers, leaving room for Shayna to press against him. Shit. He hadn’t planned an escape.
“I—”
The door banged open and Nor jumped back. Without his chest for support, Shayna toppled forward off the sink. He barely caught her.
“Shayna?” JT. Double shit.
“Babe!” She detoured around Nor and nestled into her boyfriend’s arms.
He glared at Nor. “What’s going on here?”
This was the moment when Nor would be thrown under the bus, not that he needed any help getting on JT’s wrong side. Just as the reverse was also true.<
br />
Shayna surprised him. “I got something in my eye in pottery. Nor was helping me.”
JT was leery of the excuse. Nor kept his face impassive. “We just got it out, so I’ll head back to pottery now…” He snatched the bathroom pass from the second sink and zipped around the couple and out the door.
He let out a huge breath on his trip back down the corridor, now doubly sure that he didn’t want to interact with either of those two humans ever again. He’d talk to Andrew. After he took a shower and brushed his teeth. He rubbed the back of his hand over his lips to remove any remaining oily gloss.
The pottery room was abustle. The clock indicated only a few minutes left in the period, so Nor joined the other students cleaning up and moving his half-formed bowl to the drying rack. He needed to call Reed. He needed to talk to Andrew. Someone jostled into his shoulder and the slick surface of his bowl slipped right between his fingers, splatting into a misshapen blob on the cement floor.
There was a universal “Ooo” from onlookers of the party foul. As Nor sighed and stooped to scoop up the mess and throw it in the scraps bucket, the shoes that stepped superciliously over him gave away who the guilty party with good aim was. Nor knew missions weren’t always smooth. Father never forewarned his younger son that trying to save the world would so frequently make him the enemy.
◆◆◆
Reed’s information had been gained without any molestation, assuming phone sex didn’t count. Nor didn’t want to know if that had been involved, regardless. Reed leaned over the diner counter, keeping his voice low. “They’re definitely connected.”
“The professor?” Nor asked, intrigued.
“It has to be. Obviously she couldn’t outright say she hired us while I was role-playing journalist. But she said she hadn’t been in contact with the colleagues she wrote the award-winning paper with for a while.” He raised his brows. “A while,” he repeated for emphasis. “How did she phrase it? ‘There was a conflict of interest in the next phase of the research.’ That it had hit a dead end.” Reed slapped the counter.