by L. B. Carter
“Here you go. I doubled the fries.” Reed appeared and handed over a plastic bag. He waved away Tilly’s credit card. “This is on us. As a small step toward making amends to your friend.”
“Thank you. Maybe my first feeling about you two wasn’t so off then and you can redeem yourself, Nor, though that part is mostly up to Sirena, and bloody good luck with that.” She didn’t have the accent her brother did, though she’d absorbed some of the Irish vocabulary. “I wouldn’t want to cross that girl. You do know she trains in some kind of boxing right?” That explained the excellent punching skills and aim. “In acknowledgment of your potential return to the land of the good, I, in return, promise to hold the hounds at bay if you try to talk to her,” she held a palm aloft as though swearing an oath, her bracelets clacking like the gavel on a sentence, “so long as you’re attempting to make amends for how brutally you treated her. Got it?”
Nor mimicked her gesture.
“Brilliant.” Tilly suddenly became all smiles, back to the bouncing, bubbly energy she had before she got pissed. “I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Nor, and thanks again for the food, Reed! Namasté.” She jingled as her palms came together once again, the food bag swinging from her wrist. She bowed at the waist, then trotted to catch up with her table who were headed out the door, causing the bell atop it to jingle marginally louder than Tilly’s earrings.
“Brilliant,” Reed intoned, unamused, addressing his brother. He crossed his arms like Tilly had. The difference here was that his muscles popped in a far more menacing manner, and his jaw clenched. “You didn’t tell me you had trampled anyone to get to the cheerleader.”
Nor couldn’t help a little indignation slip through. “You didn’t ask. And you didn’t tell me how you got through to her aunt! I am not a trainee anymore. I can decide how is best to progress on the mission.”
“I know you’re not a trainee. That doesn’t mean that you can do whatever you want. I’m still lead on this mission. You think Father let me decide how to go about any of my past missions with him?” he asked incredulously and shook his head. “Like hell. You don’t have the same level of experience. Like we discussed the last time you foolishly got involved with this girl’s life, the deeper you get, the harder it gets for us to keep this mission a secret. You want to go around screaming to the town that there’s a murderer in their midst and just expect him to happily present himself? Jesus, Nor.” He ran both hands down his face. “I am not explaining this to you again.”
Nor waited without interrupting or responding. None of it was really any different from what he’d been told on Sirena’s road.
Reed dropped his head backward to stare at the dirty tiles dotted between fluorescent lights on the ceiling, one hand grabbing the pen behind his ear as his arms fell to his sides. “Val…” He blinked a number of times, keeping his grief held tightly. “Valerie needs to be the last person who gets hurt because of us. Hers was already one too many civilian deaths. Got it? I won’t allow that to happen again.”
Nor stared hard at the ripped pieces of napkin spread across the tiles below his feet, seeing instead body parts scattered across grass. His family, the Green Team, had been ripped apart in that explosion, not just Val.
Reed’s head dropped to his chest, much like the gentleman who was somehow still asleep. His coffee would be cold. Reed could attest after his experience on Saturday that it wouldn’t be tasty to drink in that condition. “How much does she know, Nor? That redhead?” Reed wearily lifted his head. “What did you tell her to make that return promise?”
Nor was honest. “Not much. Just that I’d needed to talk to Shayna and hadn’t meant for Sirena to get hurt.”
Reed considered, his lips twisting as though swishing a fine wine around in his mouth to decide if he approved of the flavor. “That’s not bad.” He thrust the pen in Nor’s nose, much as he had the dagger. “Do not expose any more. I know you. I know you’re going to do as the redhead said and attempt to apologize to her friend. No. I forbid it. It won’t help. Believe me; women hold grudges. Just remove yourself from Sirena’s world and from the redhead’s world, permanently, with as few scars as possible.”
“Reed!” Barb’s voice grated, startling the gentleman awake. He jerked upright and as though no time had passed, continued reading his paper. He reached out a hand for the mug. Nor watched, anticipating the look of disgust when the lukewarm fluid reached his taste buds.
“Promise me, Nor.” Reed pulled Nor’s attention back before the old man took a sip. “Promise that you will check with me in the future, on everything, for the rest of this mission so we don’t get unnecessary complications on what is already an understaffed and data-less cluster-fuck. And promise me that you’ll heed my advice. Do I have your word?”
“Yes,” Nor promised again. It was a pledge he was mostly making to himself.
“Reed!” Barb was unrelenting.
“Coming!” he called back over his shoulder. “Go home,” he instructed Nor, “and start writing up your report on the information we got today. Do not send it before I get home and take a look at it. Got it? Don’t do anything else tonight.”
Great, Nor was grounded. Feeling like the teen he was impersonating, Nor twirled around and stood, the plastic of the blue-sparkled stool creaking. He was bound to following those orders. Looked like a long boring night of writing and contemplating their earlier conversations ahead. He could at least plan out the next step, for Reed’s approval: talking to Andrew, a newly minted member of their interrogation list.
Nor took a glance before he left. The old man was pushing the mug as far across the counter as he could reach, the disgust from his sip plain on his frowning face. Nor was Reed’s mug. But he’d fix it. He’d fix all of it. I promise, he reminded himself. He hoped, somewhere, Mother heard and that she too would forgive him for his mistakes.
◆◆◆
Hump day was certainly a hurdle. Nor learned the hard way that becoming the social pariah made questioning people impossible. His teammates wouldn’t speak to him. Justin in particular gave him such a cold shoulder, Nor wondered if he was off the team. Tilly and Kayna threw him dirty looks in the hall. Of course, Shayna’s crowd didn’t welcome him into their embrace warmly, either. Shayna was miraculously cruising around with JT’s hand planted on her ass as if she’d sat in glue. He’d thought she was more of a one-timer. Based on the amount of secretive winks Nor got, she was okay with repeat offenses. Nor wasn’t looking for any more one-on-one time with the cheerleader anyway. One taste of her lip gloss was more than enough for a lifetime. Essentially Nor was invisible. Was this how Sirena felt all the time?
On top of that, he didn’t do well on his test. American literature was too abstract for Nor. Why couldn’t authors just say what they meant instead of getting all metaphorical? Things got lost in translation. Straightforward was how Nor and Reed were raised; with science. If someone informed him their mother was a fish then some interesting genetics were going on, or else they needed severe psychiatric intervention.
Nor’s crestfallen status led him sullenly to catch up on the rest of the homework he’d put off in favor of the mission, after he’d eaten a greasy burger and watched Surfer inhale his without even a “dude” in Nor’s direction. Andrew wasn’t at their table. He hadn’t been spotted all day. Thursday was much the same: no Andrew. Was he in hiding? Was he transporting the specimen validating Nor’s insane idea about Cupid’s role in the mess?
At lunch, Nor headed toward the library entrance, not bothering to try his usual table. Tilly saw him first and her green eyes narrowed. She was the one who’d asked him to apologize to Sirena. However, Reed’s demands had a stronger grip on Nor’s life, usurping Tilly’s suggestion with a more violent tirade. Tilly was Nor’s target today.
“What do you want?” Liam had followed his sister’s eyes, narrowing his in much the same way. The siblings looked more similar than he and Reed. Burned that bridge.
“I wanted to speak to Ti
lly, if all right with you.”
Tilly made a face at the name, glancing over at her silent friend pointedly.
“To Tilly?” Kayna was baffled.
Nor waited.
“All right,” Tilly huffed. “I’ll be back.” She sprang up in a billow of flower fabric and stepped over Stew to lead Nor a few paces down the hallway. “What do you want?” she hissed. “Sirena’s over there. You already know my thoughts on your attitude.”
“I’m aware. I thought it best to leave her in peace for a few days to cool off,” he lied. “Then I’ll give her a sincere apology.”
Her arms crossed. “She is still pretty pissed. I wouldn’t put it past her to sock you.” He agreed with a quick touch to the root of his nose. “Fine. I accept your plan. Tomorrow, then.”
She moved to go around him and Nor stepped into her path blocking her. Her freckles bunched up as she screwed up her face in irritation. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What then? Hurry it along. Sirena won’t like me talking to you,” she added in a whisper so the subject couldn’t hear.
“Do you know where Andrew is?” he blurted.
Green eyes pierced him. “Andrew? Like your teammate Andrew? Why do you need to know? And why not ask Justin?”
Nor looked to the foam ceiling tiles. “Because he’s not speaking to me.” Nor skipped over the other inquiry.
Tilly snorted. “Serves you right.” She shrugged, bangles jiggling. “To answer your question, no idea.”
Nor’s brows slammed down. If the gossip queen didn’t know… Nor’s inkling increased a notch.
“What do I look like, his mom? Why would I know where he is?” She stormed off and Nor let her.
His mom; there was an idea.
After school Nor took a detour, following the directions he’d gotten from the school directory and pulled noisily up in front of a small bungalow. A pleasant plump woman opened the door, flour coating an apron a lot less frilly than the one Reed wore at Barb’s, who informed her son’s kind friend that Andrew was unwell but Nor was so sweet to check on him. Yes, it would be great if Nor could pick up his schoolwork for him. Such a polite boy.
Nor was forced to concede to Reed that his idea had been too far-fetched. Unless, Nor clung hopefully to his sleuthing ability, Andrew was avoiding them.
“And he’d know we were on to him how?” Reed punched through the amendment, following up with a punch through Nor’s defenses. Flat on his back on the grass, Nor surrendered.
Friday, Nor added Andrew’s work to his backpack, asking each teacher about Andrew, to which he received only compliments on the kid’s workmanship and get-well messages to pass along. He could probably get into BSTU without Katheryn’s sway. Nor gave up on Andrew. He tactfully brought up Mr. Tate a few times, offering condolences. The teachers all displayed sorrow and a great amount of discomfort at the subject, giving Nor nothing new.
Tilly gave Nor the stink eye all morning, going out of her way to bump him with her hip into Sirena at one point. Oh sure, that’d help improve Sirena’s opinion of him. He snuck out the back door for lunch outside.
Unfortunately, it was Sirena who stumbled into Nor as he raced to his car at the end of the day, marching with her chin down, ignoring the jeers of JT’s cronies. They generously tossed a few Nor’s way as well. Even if JT believed Shayna’s fib, they’d never be on friendly terms. Sirena’s brows dropped as soon as she looked up and saw who she’d walked into. With a literal sneer of clear not-apology, she took off.
“Do it!” someone yelled. Tilly was getting into the backseat of a car down the row.
Nor sighed, raised his eyes to the building clouds above, and under Tilly’s scrutiny, called out, “Sirena wait!”
She didn’t.
Nor chased her, jumping in front and walking backward to avoid being plowed over. “Please. I’m sorry.”
She halted unwillingly, glowering.
“I didn’t mean to offend you on Tuesday in pottery.”
Her brows shot up in disbelief.
He nodded. “No, you’re right, I did. But I didn’t mean to hurt you. Ever. I don’t— It’s a strange experience for me being hated.”
Her eyes rolled.
“I mean I try to do everything in my life to keep peace and happiness. Clearly I failed.”
Sirena huffed out a breath and hiked up her bag, raring to depart the conversation.
Nor hurried on. “So, if you’ll accept it, I’d like to extend a heartfelt apology. Trust me, I didn’t want to be doing what I was doing either.” Nor’s lip curled. “Don’t ask,” he said darkly. “Just know that it was beneficial. It’ll bring justice back to things.”
Her head cocked, seeming intrigued and approving of the justice. He assumed she was thinking of JT and vengeance regarding what happened to her at the beach. That would be Nor’s intention if only Reed allowed it.
He held out his hand. “Sirena Whatever-your-last-name-is,” he stumbled through his apology, to her amusement before she stifled it. “I’m humbly and deeply sorry for the pain I caused you. Will you accept my apology?”
Sirena eyed Nor’s hand for a moment then let go of her locket, reached out and placed her small palm against his larger one, giving a hint of a smile at the touch. Nor swallowed and shook once, then took a step back, running his fingers through his hair as though to wipe off the feeling. Sirena turned her smile on him. He grinned back. “Tilly was right. I needed to make amends.”
With that, Sirena’s grin vanished, whipped from her face like he’d slapped her. She growled, shooting a vicious snarl in the direction of the redhead who was still watching their exchange with satisfaction. Poof. She was gone, sprinting down the road with her bag bouncing at her side. Sirena’s escapes were epic.
It was just as well. That afternoon was the sailing team’s first day on the water. Nor hoped Andrew would be there. Even if he wasn’t their killer, he knew about Katheryn.
After the mission was over, Nor reflected driving behind bobbing green hair, he needed training from Reed on women.
◆◆◆
The ocean was mostly flat. Little crescents of white dotted the surface far out where a light wind tossed the sea into waves. The speed at which the boat was cruising caused the longer parts of Nor’s hair to dance across his forehead and snapped the canvas sail as it billowed out in a satisfying convex arc. With the bright sunlight unobstructed by cloud cover for a few minutes, Nor squinted against the glare reflected off the water. He closed his eyelids and tilted his head back, feeling the rays’ warmth competing with the bite of the cool sea breeze on his cheeks. As far as his façade went, sailing wasn’t a bad life.
The boat hit a large swell and Nor was jostled, a few droplets of spray making their way to his face. Voices shouted directions and Nor opened his eyes at the loudest which shouted, “Boom, duck!”
The supporting beam of the back sail suddenly swung to the other side of the boat, port to starboard. He knew that much of the jargon. Evidently “boom, duck” was also some sailing terminology that had nothing to do with birds and everything to do with almost getting decapitated.
Two of Nor’s crewmates were running to and fro, tying off and untying way too many ropes to keep track of. Andrew was the only one stationary, besides Nor. He was crouched at the rudder, or ‘helm’ as Coach had called it, in the stern of the sailboat, near where Nor was seated. The whole boat wasn’t long, with only a quarter of it available to them as a sort of cut-out area like the opening of a clog. Strike that. Surfer climbed right up onto the elevated part at the front and was messing with the rope connecting the mast to the puffed sail pulling them forward. Nor imagined he was supposed to be doing something useful too, this being a four-man crew. Since he was new to the team, his crewmates were pulling the slack, literally, as they tied off yet more thick ropes, bracing a foot against the railing to use body strength to pull it tight.
Mrs. Melody Jakowski, Coach Mel, had pulled Nor aside, and tol
d him, while pulling her thin red ponytail through a white baseball hat, that he would mostly be watching today and getting a feel for how the team worked together as a crew. His “skipper,” evidently Andrew, would ease him into his role (of which he’d already forgotten the title). She threw a white windbreaker over her white polo, zipped it to the neck and added that she’d be filling in as the fourth person on Justin’s boat since someone was sick that day but he should radio as needed. Not Andrew, who to Nor’s great relief, was well again. Something must be going around. Thankfully; she would remain oblivious to his ignorance about sailing. He doubted the jacket would be enough to keep her bony frame warm, because her reedy, freckled legs were exposed, stuck out from the wide opening of navy blue shorts. She, like pretty much everyone else (Nor hadn’t gotten the memo) wore expensive yacht shoes. He was being extra careful not to scuff the interior of the boat with his boots.
Andrew yelled at the other two and turned the wheel. The sails caught a sudden gust, lurching them forward. The wind was now angled almost directly perpendicular to their trajectory and the force pressed the sails down toward the water. Their little mobile island was going to tip!
The third crewmate settled down next to Nor. He was a stocky kid with perfectly coiffed and gelled hair, visible because of the sheen and its complete indifference to the wind, who’d pulled Nor onboard with a firm grip, shaken his hand solemnly and reported that he was ‘Daniel Preston Jr.’ Daniel Preston Jr grabbed onto a rope for leverage and leaned far back, hanging low over the ocean the way Rena had that first time he’d met her on the dock. Daniel Preston Jr turned to Nor and shouted something inaudible through the wind. He pointed at the rope. Nor hoped his bluff was holding when he presumed Daniel Preston Jr was using his weight to hold down the suddenly airborne starboard-half of the boat. He copied the pose, a little tense as he eased his back out over the open water. Once secure, he dared to looked down, watching the wake their little boat cut into the glittering water.
