by C. L. Stone
“No.”
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper and read down the list of charges. “Room Reservation Fee: $1050, Room Cancellation Fee: $1050, Comprehensive Fee: $1087, Housing and Meals Fee, Late Cancellation: $5084, Supplemental Room Charges: $853…” He dropped the paper next to him, blowing out a breath.
“How did I not realize how much they fuck you?”
“You have a scholarship.”
“Still, I get the bills. I guess I just look at the total.”
“This bill is bullshit. It’s been four days, but they’re not budging. No exceptions.”
The front door opened and closed. “I want to throw up.” Nora sat next to Apollo. Her face was grey.
“We’ll figure it out.” Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her close.
She took a deep breath and he chuckled. “Are you sniffing me?”
“You always smell so good.” She rubbed her face against his shirt.
Apollo sniffed her head. “You smell like me still.”
Matisse rolled his eyes. “Now I’m going to throw up, allons-y, chère.” He grabbed Nora and pulled her into his lap, earning a glare from Apollo. He didn’t miss the nervous glance she gave him. At first, Matisse was offended, thinking he made her nervous, but then he realized she was worried about Apollo’s reaction.
Turning his attention to his friend, he saw his knee shake, and then relax as he forcibly unclenched his muscles.
Maybe I should go easy on the PDAs. He thought about Apollo’s reaction when any one of them grabbed her. He certainly snuggled her in front of the other guys, and Apollo never checked himself either, but he seemed to be the only one with an issue when someone else was affectionate.
It bothered Matisse, but not enough to stop. He needed a physical connection with her. Since he’d fallen for her, he’d been less jumpy, less overwhelmed. Things that used to trigger him: being inside for too long, too many people talking, the tags on his shirt; those things didn’t flood his system anymore. When he was crawling out of his skin, he pulled her into his lap. It was like his brain rebooted. She was the best anti-anxiety medication he ever had. He wouldn’t stop reaching for her, touching her, kissing her, even for Apollo.
Hunching his shoulders, he rubbed his chin against the top of Nora’s head. He slid his hands along her arms until he could wrap her up tight. Just thinking about how he used to feel made his stomach clench in anxious knots. Her hands ran up and down his arms, setting off nerve endings and tingles along his skin. Her weight on his lap grounded him.
Apollo ignored them, and after a moment, stood. “I need to run upstairs for a minute.”
Nora reached out, faster than he’d seen her move before, and grabbed Apollo's hand, tugging him back. He dug in his heels a moment, but she peered up at him with entreating eyes, and he sighed, sitting next to them.
Still on Matisse, she swung her legs onto his friend's lap, holding his hands with both of hers. She dragged him closer, and closer.
Matisse couldn’t move. Watching Nora take control made his pants increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, she cupped Apollo’s face in her hands, and kissed him.
“I love you both,” she said, drawing back. “You both have my heart.
Her words nearly put him over the edge. He was so hard he suspected he’d find the imprint of his zipper along his dick. Nora shifted in his lap, and he groaned.
“Switch.” Setting her in Apollo’s lap, he adjusted himself. “Sorry,” he said, when she looked at him in confusion. Her eyes flicked to his lap, and her cheeks pinked.
The door slammed, making all of them jump. Ryan came inside, dropping his book bag on the floor with a heavy thud. His face was dark. “We need to talk.”
10
One More Thing To Worry About
“What’s the problem?” Matisse asked.
“Law School,”
“It’s full of lawyers,” he tsked, shaking his head.
Ordinarily, Ryan appreciated Matisse’s attempts at humor, but today, it merely grated on his nerves. “I was wait-listed. Which means paying the tuition to hold my spot, should it become available, but without the loans that come with free-and-clear admittance.”
“I thought your parents were helping you out.”
Nora got off their laps and walked over to him, sliding her smaller hand into his. Her touch eased his nerves, and he squeezed her hand gratefully. “Yes. As much as they can. But their help was more along the lines of books and car insurance, not tuition.”
As he spoke, she rested on his chest, her arms going around his back to pull him closer.
“I don’t get it,” Apollo said from the couch. “You got a letter. Early admission.”
“I know. I don’t get it either. Professor Bismarck is calling the dean, but I don’t know if it’ll make a difference. They won't tell me why. If I knew, maybe I could do something about it. It doesn’t sound like some random admittance mistake. Shit!” He moved away from Nora, putting his hands on his hips and staring at the ground. “I don’t know how I’m going to pay for this.”
“How much?” Matisse asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t want your money, Matisse.”
“I couldn’t give you my money even if I wanted to, Ry. I’m doled out a certain amount each month, the rest is kept in trust as part of the settlement.” His voice was distant, devoid of his typical humor and sarcasm.
Concerned, Nora went toward him.
“I’m going to make some calls, chère. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” He dipped his head to kiss her. “That’s what I forgot! I meant to buy you new soap. You still smell like Apollo.”
His attempt at humor earned a giggle, and he lingered a moment, smiling down at her. When he met Ryan’s stare, the smile slipped from his lips. "I need to make those calls," he said again, leaving unspoken, keep her here.
Taking Matisse's hint, Ryan pushed aside his problem, and turned his attention to Nora. “What are you doing today? More job applications?”
She blanched at his question, and shook her head.
“No?” he asked surprised.
“You can’t give up already, baby,” Apollo said from the couch.
She opened her mouth to respond and then shut it, looking defeated. “You’re right. Can I borrow one of your computers?”
“Of course.” He sensed they touched a nerve, but she’d only gone to two interviews. It was too early to give up hope. Picking up his backpack, he unzipped it and pulled out his laptop.
Giving him a tentative smile, she took it. He sat beside Apollo and took out his phone, shooting off an email to Professor Bismarck, and opening some of his other messages.
“Sorry,” Nora interrupted. “Can you put your password in?”
“Cerebro,” Apollo answered next to him.
“Okay.” She sat down again, a small frown appearing between her eyebrows. As she typed, he watched her.
Only when she seemed absorbed, did he go back to his email, opening one from Cai to the group. Supervisor said no to hiring Nora. Won’t even take an application. I went to her supervisor, and was shut down. Have a call in to the director, but it’s not looking good. Sorry.
He began to write an angry email in response, but quickly erased it. It wasn’t Cai’s fault his supervisor was an idiot.
Glancing at Nora, who continued to click and write, he sighed. She’d been cleared in the school shooting. Not only that, but she’d risked her life to save those students. It didn’t matter though, everyone believed the bad press and ignored the police statement declaring her innocence.
A headache built behind his eyes. Another thing to add to his ever-growing list. Looking up, he caught Nora watching him. She bit her fingernail, and when he caught her eye, she dropped her hand into her lap. “Are you okay?”
He paused, contemplating lying to her before dismissing it. “Overwhelmed.”
Closing the laptop, she slid next to him and laid her head on his shoulde
r. “Take me off your list.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your to-do list. Whatever it is you think you have to do for me, you don’t.”
He tried not to get angry, but he was already on the edge, and the idea he could wipe her off the list of things he wanted, and needed, to care about, pissed him off.
Did she think he’d forget about it because she told him to? He must not have hid his feelings as well as he thought.
“I just meant…” Her voice trembled. “I…” She swallowed thickly. “I have an interview in thirty minutes. I’m going to get ready.”
Without replying, he watched her go.
“Fucking hell, Ryan. What the fuck was that?”
“She can’t expect I’m going to let all this go.” He met Apollo’s disappointed stare. "Who does she think I am?”
“I think she wants to make sure you don’t give up law school because you’re stressed about her.”
“Of course I’m stressed about her. She can’t find a job, and she owes how much to the school now?”
A sense of being watched overtook him, and he turned, knowing he’d see Nora there.
Her dusky skin was pale, and she gnawed on her lip. “I’ll be back in a little while,” she choked out.
“Nora.” He stood.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I know. I’m going to figure it out.” She opened the door to leave but then turned around again. “I know you worry about me, Ryan,” she said quietly, her tone cowed. “But I don’t want you to start resenting me. I want to be a help, and not a burden.”
She left.
“Nora,” he called to her.
She stopped and looked at him, waiting. He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t resent her, but he did feel like he had a lot of things to fix, and he had no idea how he was going to do it. When he didn’t say anything, she peeked at Apollo and then back at him. “See you in a bit. Don’t wait dinner, okay?”
She closed the door behind him. Apollo stood, shouldering past him none-too-lightly. “Nice fucking move.”
He sighed, wiping his hand down his face. That was for sure.
11
No Choice
Nora wrapped her arms around her chest, walking quickly down the hill toward the north end of town. She had a specific place in mind. She would ask for her old job back.
Sam’s Quik Stop and Deli was always open, and Sam, the owner, would be in the back, like he was every day, listening to top 40 pop music and the police scanner.
Rapping quickly on the office door, she opened it when she heard Sam’s accented voice. “What? You better not ask for another break, Victoria, because I don’t pay you to take breaks.”
“It’s me, Sam.”
Her old boss was a small, wiry man with unnaturally dark hair, and bright blue eyes. He was a hard worker, and expected the same from his employees. She’d never had a problem with him, and she suspected she was fired as much for missing work as for being a suspect in a shooting. In all probability, missing work probably weighed more heavily against her than the shooting.
“I need my job back,” she said, not giving the man a moment to tell her to leave.
“Nora, Nora, Nora,” he began, shaking his head and making the sign of the cross: head, center, right, left. “No.”
“Sam,” she argued. “You know I’m a hard worker. I’m healed. I won’t miss work again.”
He shook his head, gesturing to the old orange vinyl chair he kept in his office for guests. “Nora. You are bad for business. I won’t hire you.”
Trying to look fierce in a non-threatening way, she crossed her arms. “You hire actual criminals, Sam. People with records.”
“They are cheap.” He shrugged. “And I have video.” He gestured to the surveillance cameras he had set up around the store, one on the register, another on the merchandise, and a third by the gas pumps.
“I’m cheap.” She blushed, but the idiom went right over Sam’s head.
He got a gleam in his eyes the way he always did when he thought about saving money, but then he shook his head. “No, Nora. Not even at less than what I paid you. I can’t risk losing business. I’m sorry.”
To his credit, he did look sorry. He wasn’t a bad guy; he was a cheap-skate, but he wasn’t cruel. Every moment he had was spent at his mini-marts, if not this one, than the second he’d owned with his brother. The business was their life, they wouldn't risk it. She was fighting a losing battle.
“Please, Sam,” she asked, begged.
He reached across his desk, patting her on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nora. You are a good worker. The best I had. Not like this lazy whale.” He gestured to the video camera showing the new employee, who happened to be the thinnest women Nora’d ever seen, tapping at her phone. “Victoria! Get off your phone before I take it!”
The woman flipped him her middle finger and he shook his head. “Never hire family, Nora. That is some advice I give you for free.”
She smiled despite herself. “Thanks, Sam.”
Patting his dark hair into place, he sighed. “Come back to me in a year, Nora. Maybe if nobody remembers you, I will hire you.”
It was actually a pretty generous offer for Sam, so she smiled, holding out her hand. “Okay. Thanks.”
He stood, shaking her hand and patting her again, this time on the cheek. “Good luck to you, Nora.”
As she walked out, she happened to glance toward the register. The woman held up her phone, following her path across the store. Staring at the floor, she quickly left.
One interview down, one to go.
She’d gotten an insta-interview at a call center, and was hopeful it was something she could do. No customers would see her, and there wasn’t even a question on the application about whether she had been arrested for a crime.
The call center was in the heart of downtown Brownington. The store fronts eventually became cleaner, and fancier. They displayed items she could never hope to afford. For having lived most of the last decade in this town, she hadn’t ventured into the stores. Ever. She assumed they’d watch her to make sure she didn’t shoplift, or ignore her completely.
The call center was located in the basement of one of the fancy stores, through the beautiful antique door, and then down a rickety set of stairs. A hand lettered sign indicated the call center’s vague name, Consumer Human Resource. She stared at it in confusion, wondering what the hell it meant, but shrugged. She didn’t really care, as long as they hired her.
What she found was a line of cubicles, each of them occupied by someone on the phone. The office was loud enough she didn’t hear the door close behind her. There was no reception, and nobody seemed to care she was there. Trying to find someone who looked like they were in charge, she started walking up and down the aisles of cubicles. Toward the back of the office, she saw a smaller office. A man stared at the computer, but looked up when she knocked on the door.
“Yeah?” He wore a dull yellow button-down shirt which probably hadn’t fit in years. Tired and bored, it was apparent he didn’t give a shit who she was.
“I applied online,” she told him. “I’m here for an interview.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, rustling through some papers on his desk. “Tina Higgins?”
She shook her head.
“Linda O’Neil?”
She shook her head again and the man rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just tell me who you are.”
Here goes. “Nora Leslie.”
The man’s eyes opened wider, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.. “Oh. Yeah.” His hands trembled as he shuffled the papers. “I remember. I saw that. Ummm. Thanks for coming in, but the position has been filled.”
Her stomach cramped. She didn’t want to work here. It looked like a place where souls went to die, or an earthly purgatory where sins were worked off at $7.25 an hour.
But she needed to work.
“Are you sure? There’s nothing?” She swallowed her pride. “I�
�m desperate.”
A sheen of sweat broke out on his brow and before her eyes, rings of sweat appeared near his arms.“No.” Though his voice trembled, he had the air of someone who would not be swayed. “I’m sure. Thanks for stopping by. There’s nothing. You can go. Now.”
He reached a hand to his forehead, wiping off the sweat with the back of his hand. She hitched her bag up higher on her shoulder, and the man flinched, startling her.
He was terrified. Of her.
It was one thing for her to plead her case, market herself, but another to stand here terrifying a pathetic middle-manager.
So she gave up.
She walked out. Out of the beige underworld and up the stairs to the carefully quaint downtown. She walked by stores, some with help wanted signs. If she couldn’t get a job at an anonymous call center, she definitely wasn’t going to be hired as a barista making $7 coffees.
Now that the stress of the job search was over, and she was vindicated in her belief she couldn’t get hired, a different depressing-as-hell thought took its place: she was messing up the guys’ life. Ryan had come right out with it, and she could see the beginnings of resentment forming. The tendrils of a feeling which would reach out and strangle the relationship they were attempting.
As if it isn’t challenging enough, working out a relationship between the six of us.
She brought nothing but added stress. She stressed them emotionally, and now she stressed them financially.
What Ryan needed to do was concentrate on himself. He should be worrying about law school, not her. None of them should be putting her before their careers, or dreams.
But they were.
After Saturday, each and every one of the guys had rearranged their plans around her.
Cai went after Tyler. Ryan tried to get her out of the contract. Apollo had been her emotional safety. He literally shoved aside his homework to take her in his arms. Matisse skipped classes today to go to the business office with her. And Seok. Seok risked an assault charge to what? Avenge her? She was the idiot who got in the car.
And was what happened so bad, really? Dr. Murray was offering her a hell of a lot. So he scared her. He told her why. He was a psychologist, and it made sense, even if it was an asshole way to get the information.