He held up the flowers, suddenly looking like a shy boy on a first date, and it made my heart speed up. "I got these for you, but then I got sidetracked and forgot them by the door."
I took them from him, buried my face in the different-colored blooms, and pulled in a deep inhalation to smell the soft fragrance. "Thank you. They're gorgeous."
"You're gorgeous." He kissed my cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."
I had three missed calls, five texts, and a voicemail waiting for me by the time I made it home. All of which were from Shari. I didn't bother to scan or listen to the messages, and decided to call her back instead.
"I know you're upset with me for talking to Nolan behind your back and setting up that stupid photo shoot, but how much longer do you plan to punish me?" Her high-pitched voice came through the line in lieu of a hello.
"I'm not punishing you. I've been busy."
"Busy? With what? You haven't been with me, and you only worked half the day today. So what exactly have you been busy with?" She gasped loudly into my ear. "Oh! You've met someone!"
"I was with Nolan."
"Nolan? As in the biggest bag of douche known to mankind? As in the asshat you despise? Why the hell would you be with him?"
"I think we may have hated him for no reason."
"No reason?"
I never understood why, but when Shari was shocked at something I'd say, she'd repeat my words but in the form of a question, adding a lilt to the end and a sarcastic tone.
"I'm sorry, Novah … but do you not remember what he did to you? The humiliation he caused you? The years of torment you had to endure because of him? I'd say we had plenty of reasons to hate him."
"You don't need to remind me, Share. I remember high school vividly." And I did. Those years were clearer in my mind than any other throughout my life.
The hallway was filled with kids, some standing along the wall in groups, some strolling alone with backpacks over their shoulders, and some with their faces stuck in their lockers. I'd walked down the same hallway every morning since school had started in August, but this morning was different.
As I moved past, some of the kids stared at me, probably noticing the difference in my appearance. I'd never worn makeup before, but I'd decided to put some on-just a little color to my eyes and a shimmery gloss to my lips. I also curled my hair. Instead of jeans and a plain shirt, I wore a simple dress with a light sweater. It felt like all eyes were on me as I strode to my locker.
One of the seniors stopped in front of me, halting my steps, and licked his lips. "You look good enough to eat," he said with his eyes zeroed in on my chest, even though he couldn't see anything. Then he laughed and shuffled away, the guys he was with eyeing me as they all passed.
I put my head down and finished making my way to my locker, feeling exposed and uncomfortable. No one had ever stopped me before, especially a jock or upperclassman. No one had ever made ludicrous comments or inappropriate remarks to me. But the one morning I showed up in a dress with a little color to my face, it seemed like I had a spotlight on me, and everyone had either a facial expression to make or a comment to say.
I didn't understand it, but once I opened my locker, things became very clear-and unclear all at once. A piece of paper fell to my feet. It wasn't until I picked it up that I realized it was a picture … of me. My eyes were closed in the shot, my head tilted back with my mouth wide open. You couldn't see the shirt hanging off my shoulders, but my white, cotton bra was very clear, and so were my erect nipples through the cups.
I gasped and shoved the photo back into my locker, worried others would see it. But as I glanced around the hall to verify no one had been looking, I got the sense something was off-wrong. A few people mindlessly strolled by, but everyone else seemed to watch my every move. Some smiled, others whispered and giggled, and a few guys wagged their eyebrows at me. I couldn't take their unwanted attention anymore and slammed my locker closed, ready to run away and cower.
I made it five steps before I found Nolan standing in the middle of the hallway surrounded by his fellow football players. His dark eyes locked with mine, and then I noticed the photo in his hand. His friends all stood around him, saying something, or maybe just laughing, I didn't know. But it was too much for me to handle, so I turned around and ran down the hall, plowing people over in my rush to get away. As I ran past them, I heard, "Oh!" being screamed out behind me. Except it wasn't the kind of "oh" you'd say when you remembered something you forgot or when you figured out the punch line to a joke. It was long and drug out, sometimes squealed, but always inappropriate.
Crude.
As I ran, I could hear my name being called out through the obnoxious commentary, but I didn't stop. I didn't answer or turn around to see who'd called it. Just a constant "Novah!" followed the clapping of my flip-flops as I ran.
"Novah!" Shari's voice pulled me from my depressing memory. "Are you going to answer me, or do I have to come find you and beat it out of you?"
"I'm sorry. I got sidetracked for a minute. What did you ask me?"
"I asked … if you remember high school and everything he did to you so well, then why the hell are you talking to him? I thought the plan was to make him eat dirt, tell him off, and then leave him alone?"
"He wasn't the one who spread the pictures, Share."
"Oh, so you believe him now? Don't let him fool you. He tried this before. Just kick him in his nuts and leave him alone."
I sat down on my couch and curled into the cushion, knowing this would be a very long conversation. "I believe him."
"And what about the stunt he pulled with wanting you to take all those pictures this past weekend? He's an asshole, Novah. You even said it yourself. He's full of himself and apparently likes to humiliate the disabled."
"Nolan isn't the same person we remember him being, nor is he anything like we expected. After he left high school, he went off to war."
"Is there anything he says you won't believe?" The irritation in her tone was heavy, and it dragged down each word until her voice was deep and condescending.
"It's the truth. He didn't send us those people because he thought they were hideous-well, maybe he did, but not for the reasons we thought. He has a problem seeing anything attractive about a disfigured person because … he's disfigured himself. He lost a leg in the war."
Silence.
Nothing but complete silence came through the line. Then small, quiet breaths broke through, followed by shocked stuttering.
"That's what I'm saying, Shari. We've hated him for something he doesn't deserve. The pictures he took were stolen out of his room by some of the guys at school. He had no idea. And he's paid a very high price for it-way more than I ever did."
"Wow … I don't even know what to say."
"I've held onto this anger for years, blaming and hating him. I was wrong. It was a shitty situation and it never should've happened, but he's not the bad guy here. In fact, seeing him again and talking about everything has opened my eyes. I can't live in the past, live with the resentment of something I can't change. He's proof of how damaging it is to hold onto it all. I have to let it go … and I think I already have."
I told her about the junkyard and about going to his house for dinner-both times. She remained silent as I talked about the way he'd trashed his place the first night, and about the way he fucked me against the desk earlier. Once I got into that part of the story, she had a few things to say, but it was mostly just personal questions about him I couldn't-or wouldn't-answer.
We talked on the phone for another hour as she told me about Mike, and then I went to bed. Nolan stole every dream I had and filled me with mixed emotions. Shari's advice drifted into some of it, and no matter how hard I tried to block out the dark cloud of dread, it wouldn't seem to fully go away.
At noon the next day, I sent Nolan a text inviting him over to my house for a lazy day of movies. With my mind muddled over what to do, I had no desire to go anywhere, but I couldn't fight my need to see him, either.
It took him almost an hour to get to my house, but he brought lunch with him. We ate our subs-he sat by himself on the loveseat-and we watched the first Borne movie in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but I couldn't pull myself together enough to speak my mind. And he seemed to feel the same way.
Finally, just as the second movie came on, he leaned forward and hung his head as if his thoughts were too heavy and weighed him down.
"What's going on?" I asked after pausing the movie. He'd been quiet since showing up, but this was the first time he actually exhibited any real emotion.