Finding Honor

by Ripley Proserpina

  She rubbed her forehead and then her side. “You’re exhausting.”

  Tyler snorted. “That’s what she said.”

  Nora rolled her eyes.

  “Are you in?”

  She couldn’t help herself, and if she hadn’t been so tired, she probably wouldn’t have replied, “That’s what she said.”

  “I’m going to play foosball.” Cai sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “Are you coming?”

  “That’s what…” Tyler began again, but Cai’d already gone inside and closed the door behind him. “He’s too easy to get riled.”

  “He was riled?” she asked.

  “You sweet innocent,” Tyler said, ruffling her hair. “Come inside and get schooled.”

  ***

  The only reason Nora played foosball was to make Tyler happy. On a good day, she could hold her own, but not today, not feeling the way she did.

  They did a bracketed tournament, and while she made it to the second round after beating out Ida, she was not disappointed when she lost. She was more than happy to sit and watch Tyler play.

  He was the master of the spin and the push kick. At one point, he smacked the ball into the side of the table where it ricocheted and landed neatly in the goal.

  “Class dismissed.” Tyler turned his hat backward and threw his hands up in the air, making a celebratory circle around the table. Nora laughed, but she could see some of the other kids had crossed arms and narrowed eyes.

  Cai clapped him on the shoulder. “Ever the sportsman.”

  Tyler ignored him, sitting next to Emily on a huge recliner. “You don’t mind, do you, Cutie?”

  She blushed, and shook her head.

  Cai played next. If he won his game, he’d go against Tyler in the finals. Nora's side started to throb. She tried to find a comfortable position, but the chair was hard, and each breath rubbed her shirt against her stitches. She lifted one arm above her head, and stretched, trying to ease the kinks and pulls.

  “Here,” Tyler said, standing. “Switch with me.”

  She didn’t argue, and Emily nodded and patted the seat. She couldn’t contain her groan of relief as she settled her body onto the cushion.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  Nora nodded, watching Cai. He heard Em and raised an eyebrow, as if asking the same question. She nodded to him as well, and he went back to the game.

  Tyler flipped his hat forward again and leaned his arms against his knees. “But seriously, you really think you’re only good at making change and sandwiches?”

  It took her a moment to catch up to the direction Tyler’s thoughts had taken, and she shook her head, undoing her answer by shrugging at the same time. “I don’t know.”

  “What are you talking about?” Emily asked.

  “Our dear friend, Nora, thinks she’s been put on this earth to make sandwiches at the gas station.” he shook his head and leaned back again. The boy couldn’t sit still.

  “I’m taking this class,” he began, his knee beginning to jiggle. “I get to take classes at Brownington each semester if I take part in this on-going study…” He blushed. “Anyway— it’s this long-term study measuring the correlation between personal philosophy and success. Your worldview is important, Nora. It colors everything. If you don’t think you deserve to be successful, I don’t think you will. That’s my worldview, at least. I’ve been working on defining mine with Dr. Murray. He’s a really smart dude.”

  She pulled on one of her curls, tucking it behind her ear. “Oh.”

  Tyler spread his arms out as if embracing everyone in the room. “I believe there is a chance for any of us to be millionaires, horse trainers, and dog whisperers, if it’s what we want to be.”

  Nora laughed, and Emily and Ida giggled.

  “So what will you be, Nora? If I’m right, and I’m sure after Dr. Murray listens to my manifesto, he’ll agree, what do you want? What will you be when you grow up?”

  “I never thought about it.” She cracked her knuckles.

  “Third in your class, and never thought about it? Come on.”

  Nora pushed her hands against her knees, rubbing her palms back and forth. Something about Tyler’s description of this study made her uneasy, and it wasn’t just having to make decisions about the rest of her life and share it with a stranger. “Can I let you know?”

  His smile was wide and happy. He smacked her hand and sat back. “Good answer, Nora. Start thinking about it. I want an answer next time I see you. Or an idea. At least have an idea.”

  Giving him a half smile and rubbing her forehead, she wished she could put her finger on what was bothering her. A loud cheer sounded from the kids and she opened her eyes to see Cai patting the back of the kid he played. He saw Nora and frowned, mouthing, “Okay?”

  She knew he had a few hours of work left, and didn’t want him to worry about her, so she nodded. He walked over to her, squatting in front of her chair. “Do you need to go?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  Cai stood, holding his hands out to Nora. “Come on. I have a place you can rest.”

  Letting him tug her to stand, she argued, “I’m really okay.”

  “You look like you need a nap. And I know you’ve been asleep by nine almost every night you’ve been staying with us. I have my laptop. You can watch a movie or something. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to leave.”

  He led her out of the great room, unlocking a door leading to a smaller room. “This is my office.”

  It had a filing cabinet in one corner, a desk and chair, and a short couch. Cai snagged his laptop off the desk and propped it on the chair, pulling it over to the couch. “Lie down.”

  Despite the age of the couch, it was very comfortable. Her head ached and her stomach was upset, and she replayed Tyler’s words over and over in her head. “Just for a little while. If you need help with anything…?”

  Cai nodded, pulling her shoes off her feet and tucking them under her as she curled onto her side, her hands beneath her cheek. “I will.”

  He smiled suddenly. This close to him, she noticed his teeth were white, but not perfect. In fact, if she hadn’t gone to school with a bunch of hockey players, she’d never have noticed his teeth were probably implants. His lips covered his smile a second later, and she realized she’d been staring. Her face flushed and she cleared her throat. “Did you play hockey?” she asked, by way of an excuse.

  “No,” he answered shortly, and stood. “Get some rest, Nora. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Flipping the light off, he left Nora with only the glow of the laptop. She sighed. She wasn’t trying to be rude.

  She rolled onto her back. There was no way she was going to sleep if she was thinking about Tyler and messing things up with Cai. She turned on her side again and reached for the laptop. She scanned the desktop for the internet icon, but stopped when she saw a folder labeled, “H. Leslie.”

  Her finger hovered over the pad as she contemplated what it could mean. It was her. It had to be about her. She dragged the indicator back to the internet icon and hesitated, finally dragging it back to the folder and clicking it. If it wasn’t about her, she’d close it right away, but if it was, she had a right to read what it said.

  She opened the folder and sucked in a breath. Document after document appeared with her name, some with various dates, and others with agency acronyms. DCF, Leslie, Honora. 7 July 2007. Leslie, Honora. 31 August 2012. VTAOE, Leslie, Honora. 7 June 2014.

  She clicked on the most recent date, and saw her hospital discharge paperwork. It described the nurses’ observations of her behavior, her injuries, and follow-up care. She closed it and opened another one, nearly crying out before covering her mouth with her hand. It was a case-plan review from the Department of Children and Families. It was the last one written by her social worker, and had terminated her mother’s parental rights. She clicked out; she didn’t need to review it; she remembered every moment of the event which put her in state custody.


  She hated that Cai knew things about her no one else did. She didn’t know how he managed to find every bit of information related to her, but it wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. She didn’t ask them to spill their secrets to her.

  What was worse was she hadn’t realized how much she’d begun to trust the guys until faced with the proof they didn’t trust her.

  Why should they, though?

  Not only was she reading a file on someone’s personal computer, something it was clear Cai had never meant for her to see, but she’d come into their lives after almost being arrested. She filled out background applications before, so why did this bother her so much?

  Admittedly, her reason and her feelings were two separate things. She couldn’t use one to make the other hurt less. She closed the files, and put the laptop back on the chair. She didn’t want to touch it, afraid she’d be tempted to look over the documents again. Each one was related to a dark moment in her life, and she relived those often enough, thank you very much.

  She shut the top of the laptop, plunging the room into blackness. She stared into the darkness, closing her eyes and letting the images and words she’d seen play against her eyelids. She focused on her breathing, using the techniques Apollo taught her, filling her belly with air and counting as she released it.

  It felt like forever since she’d seen him and felt safe and protected.

  Her eyes opened again, her peace shattered. She wondered if he read the things in her file, things like the DCF report about her mother, and her mother’s boyfriend, and the neighbor’s reports of seeing him throw her out of a moving car.

  Who else had seen the file, she wondered. Had Matisse? Was that why he hadn’t been shocked when the reporter threw question after horrible question at her. Her hand went to her mouth again, touching her lips. A terrible thought came to her; was it why Matisse had kissed me? Because he felt sorry for me?

  Trust was a fragile thing, and she’d allowed herself to trust the guys. She developed feelings for them. Each moment she spent with them felt special. Learning about them, forming a friendship, it all seemed to be leading to something even bigger and more important.

  But they already knew everything about her.

  You know better than to trust people.

  It was a lesson she’d learned early in her life, yet they made her forget it. Nora rubbed her stomach, feeling ready to throw up after all the truth she ingested. It was then, when she was beating herself up for everything she allowed herself to feel, even though the world had taught her better, she realized what it was about Tyler’s story that bothered her.

  It was the word he used: manifesto. She’d heard it this morning when Matisse explained Reid’s letter. It seemed strange to her she’d hear it twice on the same day.

  Nineteen

  Trust

  Cai did not let Tyler win.

  When he first made the move from his fucked-up family into society, he could always tell when people fed him lines of bullshit. Whether they told him he’d never have to go back to his father, or let him score in touch football; Cai could sniff out a lie and a liar. Nothing made him feel worse than realizing he couldn’t trust someone he thought he could.

  No matter how much he wanted to take it easy on the kids, he didn’t. He wanted them to know they could count on him to be honest about the little things. If they didn’t trust him, they’d never ask him the big questions, the life or death ones.

  Tyler wasn’t a sore loser, even if he had thrown his hat at him earlier in the game. “Next time, man,” he laughed. “Your reign is coming to an end, I can feel it.”

  He patted him on the back and accepted the ribbing and sympathy from the others. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nora emerge from the darkened hallway. He’d been playing for less than thirty minutes with Tyler, so she hadn’t slept, and if possible, she looked worse than before. Trying to make his way over to her, he was interrupted by kids wanting to congratulate him. He clapped their shoulders and responded with one word answers to their questions until he reached her.

  Her skin was sallow and dewy, and she crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall, but not meeting his eyes.

  “Hey,” he called to her.

  Her eyes flicked toward him and then away. “Hi.”

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  She shook her head, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “No. I decided it was better to get up than lie there thinking.”

  The entire time she spoke, she stared at the floor, or at the kids. Her eyes slid away from his, and his internal lie detector began to alert. He crossed his arms, trying to keep his anger in check. “What’s going on?”

  She must have heard the frustration in his voice. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He snagged her arm when she started to walk away. “It does matter.” He hated that she was lying, but he also hated the sense of defeat he got from her, like she was lying because she had no choice but to lie. She wasn’t going to give her secrets to him and he had the feeling it was his fault she wouldn’t.

  “Nora,” he tried again. “I know you don’t know me very well. I don’t know you very well either, but if it’s something I can fix, I will.”

  He was horrified to see her eyes fill with tears. She took in a great gulping breath, like she was trying to suck the feelings back.

  “What are you doing to our new favorite girl, Cai?” Tyler wrapped his arm around Nora’s shoulder, pulling her into his body and squeezing her. She winced, reminding Cai her body was still healing.

  “Careful,” he spat out before thinking.

  Tyler released her slowly. “Sorry, Nor. I forgot.”

  Nora patted him on the stomach before getting out from under his arm. “It’s okay. Really. I’m still just a bit sore.”

  “You should go home.” Tyler put his hands on her shoulders and studied her. “You look like crap.”

  “Why don’t you take her home.” Aislinn appeared beside them. She raked Nora from head to toe and nodded. “Tyler’s right.”

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  Cai sighed, irritated he had to leave work early, but even more irritated with himself for taking it out on Nora.

  When did I become so judgmental? His expectations for her were way out of whack. Dragging his hands through his long hair and clenching his teeth, he felt a familiar ache in his jaw. If he judged her as he did the other kids at the youth center, he’d say she was a success story. She’d made it on her own. She had nothing to do with the shooting; he didn’t need Matisse’s file to prove that.

  “It’s fine.” He was going to earn her trust, but he wasn’t going to push. “Aislinn can lock everything, and Tyler will help her.”

  “Tyler will what now?” He turned his cap around and glared.

  Aislinn nudged him with her shoulder. “You’ve done it plenty of times before with both of us. You’ll be fine.”

  Cai pulled a key off his key ring and gave it to Tyler. “Here.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “If this was a movie, here is where I’d let the audience know I was about to have a party.”

  Aislinn cuffed his head, knocking off his hat.

  Cai managed to edge closer to Nora, who stiffened when he put his arm around her waist, and guided her toward the hall.

  “Bye, Nora!” Tyler called, fixing his hat yet again.

  A couple of the kids called out to her as well. Cai noticed the way she took the time to meet the eyes of each person who called out to her, even though she gave a general wave to the room.

  “Would you come back?” Cai asked, holding open the back door.

  In the dim streetlight, he could see he shocked her. “You want me back? Why?”

  “They liked you,” he answered, unlocking the car door. He settled himself in the driver’s seat and buckled his seatbelt. “And you seemed like you were having fun for a while.”

  She rested her head back and closed her eyes. Cai watched the wa
y the shadows splayed across her face. She reached for the window controls and lowered it. The cool air tossed her hair around her face. He forced himself to watch the road instead of her but something dragged his gaze back to her again and again.

  “What?” She had her face turned to the window so it took a moment for Cai to realize she was talking to him. “I can feel you staring at me.”

  He smiled. “Sorry.”

  She turned her head toward him, opening her eyes and smiling. “It’s okay.”

  “That’s sort of your phrase.” Cai spoke without thinking. “ ‘It’s okay.’ “

  She faced the window again. He could tell he embarrassed her.

  “Is it such a bad thing?” she asked, her voice hard.

  He gripped the wheel a little harder, turning down a side street leading home. “You’re one of those, huh?”

  “One of those?” The edge to her voice was more pronounced.

  “You hold onto things, and then when you have a full arsenal, you let them fly.”

  “You don’t know me at all,” she snapped. “And that’s a shitty thing to say.”

  His resolution to be less judgmental was not going well, but still… “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”

  “It doesn’t sound very nice,” she countered. “Keeping a running tally of ways people have ticked you off, and then throwing them back in someone’s face.”

  “What did you mean then?” Cai couldn’t keep the heat from his voice.

  “I just don’t know how I feel yet. I’m working it out. If I have an issue, I’ll come back to it. I’m not quick like some people. I can’t tell you exactly how I feel, and why, and what I need. I don’t know what I need, and I don’t always know why I feel a certain way. And…” She took a deep breath. “Never mind.”

  “No.” He didn’t want her to stop. Every word out of her mouth resounded with truth. He wanted to hear more. “I want to understand.”