Nor (Wattpad Featured Story, WriteAffair finalist)

Chapter 25: Aftereffects

It's only been maybe twenty minutes since I left the glass place. The whole way, I looked out the window like I was seeing every building, every person, for the first time, much like a child. And I noticed so many things I hadn't before, even though I'd taken the same route a couple of times. Poem-graffiti on that wall of the cinema. The 'To Lease' sign missing the L. And some 'Missing, Have you seen this child?' posters.

The funny thing is, maybe there isn't really a reality, but just a lot of people's different views and so a lot of different realities. Because clearly, people don't seem to observe and spot the same kinds of things.

Oh, look, this place is familiar. The D. Sullivan Building. Yeah, rings a bell.

Pia pauses at the steering wheel, looking at me a little nervously. Behind her, in the backseat, Brian says nothing, but his face is white.

"You get it, right?" she asks me. "You get why?"

"I don't get anything."

"Seriously. Are you going to tell?"

"Just leave me alone. Forever." I get up, launching out of the car and through the doors. The door guy kind of gapes and points at me, and I say, "Yes, yes, it's really me."

"Miss Sullivan, you're alright? Welcome back! Your father .... "

I don't let him finish. I march inside, but can't help glancing back at the road as I head into the elevator. Pia's car is gone.

I meant what I said about keeping my word. For now, at least. Because even though kidnapping is a crime, they were only accessories really (or is it accomplices?), so it's not as big a deal, especially since my kidnapping wasn't really like a kidnapping, considering how sort of nice everyone was to me. It was too weird, almost too weird to really believe it actually happened. Other than hunger and faint rope burns, I wasn't hurt. I wasn't anything. I was just a little tool really for Gerringer to say a bunch of stupid words no one's even sure he meant.

The door to the apartment opens before I even reach it. Maggie. For some reason, my eyes well at the sight of her. She's not my mother. She's not my mother. But I find myself going forward so that she can hug me. "They called up and told me," she whispers in my ear.

"Oh."

"I just told your dad. He's coming up now – "

The door to the stairwell bumps open, and there he is. "Nora."

I glance at him, blinking. He stares at me for a moment, holding back like he's embarrassed. "So ... you're really back."

"They let me go."

"And you're not hurt? They didn't do anything to you?"

"No."

"OK. OK. But I've got to call Gerringer. He'll have some men over to take down your statement."

"Dad."

"What?"

"Can I maybe do that tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? But I think it would be better if – "

"Danny," Maggie interrupts, giving him a pointed look. "I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow, right?"

He frowns at her, but apparently, Maggie's words have a lot more power than mine, because in the end, he nods and goes, "Fine."

"What do you need, Nora?" Maggie asks.

"I need my bed. God, I need to just lie down."

"OK. Come on." With her arm around me, she leads me to my room, my father trailing wordlessly behind us until the door. I slip beneath my sheets, which smell weird from the time I've been away. Skunky rolls down and nestles against my head. "We'll be right here, OK?" she says gently.

"I know."

"So just sleep. It'll be OK."

My eyes are shut before she gets to say anymore.

When I wake up the next morning, guess who's the first person I see? No, it's not the cops to take my statement. It's Wes. In fact, I blink my lids open to find him sitting in a chair next to my bed. For a moment, the position and his height remind me of Nate. What a lot of things that man had to say. "What are you doing here?" I ask thickly, rising on one elbow.

"Maggie let me in. I'm sorry. I hope it's OK."

"It's kind of creepy to wake up and find someone watching you, you know. How would you like it if I did the same to you?"

"I wouldn't mind," he says lightly, his smile a tease.

I roll my eyes, putting my face back down in the pillows. Wes takes a breath, scooting his chair closer. The next thing he does surprises me. He touches my hair, kind of the way Glenn does, and my eyes fly open. I stare at him in surprise, then he slowly takes back his hand. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Yeah. Me too."

"There are some cops on the way."

Cops. Nate and his people would never say it like that, not without that sneer, that tone ... but who cares?

"I figured," I respond.

"You think you can handle them? Because Maggie and I'll put it off for you if you want."

"I'm fine." I take a moment to consider. "Where's my dad?"

"At work."

"He's working?"

"Well ... yeah. But I mean, he's right downstairs."

I sit up, pushing my hair back. "He barely even spoke to me."

"Well, he's busy."

"Busy."

"Well, what do you want him to say, Nor?"

"I don't know. He doesn't have to say anything. But he could at least be here. I thought he cared."

"Of course he cares."

"No. Maggie cares. You care. But not him."

"Stop it, OK? I may not be related to you guys, but I do know your father on some level. You have to understand – "

"What? What do I have to understand?"

"You have to understand ... that he doesn't understand."

"Huh?"

"He doesn't understand you. Not at all. He doesn't know how to approach you. Sometimes, you kind of freak him out."

"I freak him out? I freak him out?" I can't help remembering the last violin incident, how he lost it and yelled at me like a maniac. I tell this to Wes, and he nods solemnly, taking it in.

"OK, I don't know about that. But I think he was upset."

"Because of me."

"No. Something else maybe, and he was taking it out on you."

"I see. Well, if you can tell him that I do not exist to be his emotional punching bag, I would really appreciate it." I climb out of bed, grabbing a towel.

"Nor – "

"Excuse me, please. I need to take a shower."

"OK, fine. We'll continue this later."

No, we won't. I shove him out of the room, bolting the door. Crazy Dad. Wes supporting him. Cops are coming. What day is it anyway? I search for my watch and find it on my desk, as if someone took it off my wrist and put it there. Sunday. Sunday! Does that mean I have to go to school tomorrow? If my father could go to work today, I'm betting he'd expect me to go to school. Jerk.

I sit in the shower for too long, taking in the hot water, soaping slowly. For a long time, I stare at my clothes like I don't know them, rifling, messing, rearranging.

"Nora?" I hear Maggie and a knock at the door. "The cops are here. Are you done?"

Yippee. Time to get dressed and lie.