Finding Nora
Page 7
“Okay.” Her mind was already moving ahead, trying to figure out payment plans, jobs, interest, rent, groceries. Fuck saving. That wasn’t happening.
She left without saying goodbye, or even seeing where she was going
“Nora!”
Without remembering how, she’d left Converse Hall. The rain was coming down harder, and she put her hand above her eyes, trying to see through the water dripping into her face.
“Crazy girl.” Apollo grabbed her. “I should have given you an umbrella. How’d you get so wet between here and the bus stop.”
“I walked.” Her teeth chattered so hard she could barely get the words out.
“Oh, chère.” Matisse took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. He wrapped his arm around her, hurrying her to the parking lot.
The boys talked around her, but the rain poured harder and harder, drowning out their voices. Apollo’s car was ahead of them. The lights flickered when he unlocked it, and they piled inside, the windows fogging when he blasted the heat.
“Why did you walk?” Seok asked in a low voice.
The four guys were packed in back like sardines, shoulders pushing against each other, but he inched forward, trying to get closer.
“I was done early, and—“ She stopped. “I needed to get out.”
Cai caught her eye. He understood everything she wasn’t saying. “Job a no-go?”
Willing her body not to cry, she shook her head. When it seemed like she’d lose the battle, she turned around in the seat, looking forward. And then, when she felt Apollo’s stare on her face, she turned toward the window.
“Nore?” Ryan asked.
Her voice cracked when she tried to reply, and Apollo immediately took her hand. “We’ll talk at home, baby. Just get warm.”
She nodded, still not looking at him. The wind and rain whipped at the trees, covering the road in orange and yellow leaves. The storm would strip the foliage and by tomorrow, the trees would be bare, and everything would be brown or grey.
Apollo maneuvered around the other cars into his space. As soon as he was parked, she opened the door before anyone else could. The guys jumped out behind her, all of them rushing to the front door.
“Go upstairs and dry off,” Apollo told her. “Take a warm shower. We’ll wait for you here.”
Matisse's head whipped toward him, worry tightened Ryan’s face, but no one said anything.
Kicking off her soggy shoes and socks, she hurried up the stairs and into the bathroom. Her fingers were pruney and numb and she struggled with the button on her pants and shirt. She’d been so careful choosing her interview outfit, and in neither interview did she even have to take off her jacket.
Her clothes hit the ground with a wet smack, and she turned on the shower as warm as it would go.
Yanking the elastic out of her hair, she finger-combed the braid until her hair laid against her skin in long, wet curls. Her reflection stared back at her, the steam slowly filling up the room to obscure her face and she climbed into the shower.
The warm water did nothing to dissipate the dread settled firmly in her stomach. She was fucked. So fucked. The water pounded against her muscles, but her entire body ached, tense from both the events of the day and the cold. As she warmed up, her shoulders slumped, but she was far from relaxed. She still had to talk to the guys, and then she had to figure out how deep in the hole she was. She knew they’d want to pay whatever debt she accumulated in 24 hours.
It seemed unbelievable, but she knew how the college worked. There were fees on top of fees on top of fees. She hadn’t even spent a night in her dorm room, but she owed for it as if she had.
Groaning, she leaned her forehead against the tile.
“Are you okay?” Ryan asked.
No. “I.." She opened the curtain to look at him, and shrugged. “I’ll be right out.”
A look of hurt flashed across his face, but he didn’t argue.
It is possible to feel worse. Alone again, she turned off the water and got out of the shower. She wrapped her long hair around and around, securing it in a bun, and dried off quickly.
The boys were where they said they’d be, eyeing her cautiously.
First thing’s first. “I’m sorry,” she apologized to Ryan.
“I think I know what happened.”
She nodded, wiping away her tears with the palm of her hand. “Both jobs were busts. They saw my name and said no way.” She sat, pulling her legs up and stretching her sweatshirt over her knees. “That was it. Just, ‘You’ll scare the customers.’ ”
Cai exchanged a look with Ryan, but neither of them said anything.
“I offered to stock shelves at night,” she went on. The boys immediately began to argue with her, but she held up her hand. “He didn’t go for it. I offered to work evenings, nights, weekends. In the back! Neither job would take me.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t think I can get hired in this town, and honestly— maybe not in Vermont.”
The guys wore similar looks of disbelief.
“You can’t leave.” Cai’s deep voice was worried.
“I don’t know what to do.” She hesitated, formulating the next blow. “Dr. Murray told me I owe the college money.” ‘
They were as angry as she expected. Ryan’s voice boomed the loudest, and she had to hold out a hand, asking for his phone before he started making calls. “You know how this place works.” She stared pointedly at Apollo and Ryan who she knew were currently enrolled, and Matisse who was auditing. “There are registration fees, and holding fees, lab fees, and taxes.”
“I’ll help you,” Ryan said.
“I don’t even know how much it is.” She rubbed her forehead before leaning her face against her knees.
“We’ll figure it out,” Matisse added. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
nine
Jealousy
MATISSE WALKED INTO the house and threw his wallet on the coffee table before falling backward onto the couch.
“What’d they say?” Apollo dropped the book he was reading.
“Tough shit.”
He smiled, a quick flash of dimples before getting serious. “How much was it?”
“I didn’t think Nora heard them correctly,” he mused, not answering the question.
“Where is Nora?”
“Outside. Walking up and down the block. She wanted to walk back from the Business Office, but I was worried.”
“I notice you’re purposefully avoiding the question.”
Matisse sighed, running his fingers through his long hair. “Around ten thousand.”
“Ha. Funny. How much?”
He stared at Apollo.
“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 off
ended, 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.”
ten
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 shoulder. “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.
eleven
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.”