Author note: This chapter has been revised and edited. Updated 13th July 2017
Chapter 10:
Stormy Weathers
We're both quiet and exhausted on the way back to campus. Noah has his attention focused on his phone, and hasn't looked up since. I play with the dress while the events of today runs through my head.
Stacy hasn't called, but I make no active decision to call her myself. Missing out on our weekly calls doesn't settle well with me, and there's a part of me just wanting to text her goodnight. There's the other that stubbornly reminds me of what she said.
I glance at Noah's profile, taking in his crinkled attire and messy hair. Dinner with his parents was awkward to say the least, but comforting. It's weird, I think, to take a back seat and observe a broken family that doesn't look all that broken. Just an eternal, emotional baggage of thoughts and wishes silent to every subconscious but theirs. It must be easy to pretend everything's okay than it is to live with it in the open. A facade mastered over the years.
"You know," I say, catching Noah's attention, "tonight was kind of fun. Besides some of the stuff that's happened, your parents seem nice."
He scoffs. "They socialised only because there was a guest. Usually, dinners with them are much more quiet."
"At least you have dinners with your parents," I mumble.
"What?"
"Nothing."
We say goodbye to Devine when he drops us off at the student car park, the cold air creating goosebumps on my legs.
"I'm getting the shower first," Noah says, opening the door to the dark and chilly dorm cottage. He switches the lights on the to the heater, before heading straight to the bathroom. Before he goes in he turns back to me. "You feel better?"
"Very."
"Cool." He slips inside.
I take the chance to remove the dress and put on my comfy kitten pajamas. I hum a tune and prepare for bed, waiting as patiently as I can for Noah to finish the bathroom.
He steps out in nothing but a towel around his waist, steam coming off his chest. I'm more awake than I've ever been.
"Whoa! A warning would have been nice."
"The bathroom's yours," he says, moving around my to reach his bed.
A scent of cinnamon reaches my senses as I step inside. It waffles around me when I wash off the make up and brush my teeth, while the remaining steam fogs up the mirror. I should've stared just a little longer...
Noah leaves his desk light on as I get cozy in my sheets, my back facing the opposite, occupied bed. My body is stiff. It's hotter than it should be in this dorm. I turn around, facing Noah with his headphones in and his back against the wall. I don't have the energy to question when we began to feel comfortable enough to sleep in the same room, or further over-analyse it until the words take a mind of its own. It's an unfamiliar territory. We lock eyes for a split second.
"Sorry," he says, voice heavier than usual. "I'll turn the lights off in a sec, yeah?"
I nod and cover my mouth in a yawn. "Yeah." What am I saying? I think. Analyse this. Freak out a bit. Think and think some more. Do something!
Darkness creeps over me, lulling me to sleep.
***
Jesse doesn't say anything when he visits the dorm the next morning. He waits for Noah to come back from wherever he went, eating fries and checking his phone. I'm quiet too, focusing on getting my assignment done for a class, darting every so often to the blond. It's unusual sitting alone with Jesse close by, knowing our last confrontation had him glaring daggers at me for wanting to see Rachel. I eye him when he leans over and offers me some of his food. I blink.
"What?"
"Do you want some?"
"No thanks," I say.
"They're a little soggy for me, thought you might want it," he continues.
"Why?"
He's silent for a few seconds, glancing at the door wearily despite how quiet the world outside is.
"How's Rachel?"
"Fine," I say. The glances I shoot at him become more frequent. His shoulders are stiff and he nods repetitively.
"Good."
We continue in our silence, probably more aware of the other than before. I'm tempt to ask why he wants to know, but the question only confirms what I already know. They haven't spoken a word since their fight, and Jesse is taking the separation a lot more worse than Rachel.
"Do you know everything?"
I shrug. "Depends on everything."
His eyes squint. "Don't make me spell it out to you."
I lift my head. "She's told me what she wanted to tell."
"Then you would know how much of it I screwed up," he says. "She's never going to want to talk to me again. This isn't the first time it happened..."
I reach for my phone beside me and clench it. I didn't know what to reply with; he seems to goon without realising what he's sharing. I decide to keep quiet until he finishes his rant. Half of the time I barely pay attention to because of how much he repeats: "Rachel and I got along great in high school", "her dad doesn't like me", "fuck, I screwed up."
"Don't tell her any of this," Jesse says in the end, rubbing his chest as though the thought of me running off to tell Rachel hurts him. "I just needed to let it out."
"And you chose me to say this to because?"
Jesse rolls his eyes. "You're too shy to say anything to anyone."
"Okay," I say, and go back to my assignment. Jesse leaves without a word, mumbling about waiting for Noah makes him frustrated.
Nicole and Rachel visit after lunch in my dorm, apparently needing to escape from stress. They bring chocolate, individual ice cream containers, popcorn and movies. I shake my head at the sight of Channing Tatum dropping the whiteboard marker in 22 Jump Street.
"Oh, he's beautiful when he swears," Rachel says.
"He's just so...perfect," I join in, unaware of the scene change.
Rachel nods. "Like angels spent an extra day just to make him look like that."
Nicole rolls her eyes. "We get it, he's beautiful."
"Well excuse me for not appreciating honest men." Rachel leans over and flicks popcorn on Nicole's face. I lick the buttery salt off my fingers as she picks up the fallen ones off her clothes.
Nicole slouches her head on my shoulder. "Have you two kissed and made up already? He's looking more pathetic than usual."
Rachel lays her head down on my right shoulder. "I want to talk but he's putting a lot of distance between us—like I'm a plague or something."
"He wants to talk to you, too," I say.
"How'd you know?"
I chew on popcorn to mask the grin spreading across my face. "Saw him before. Couldn't stop pitying himself." I nudge Rachel. "Does your dad really hate him that much?"
"Oh yeah," she says, moving down to lie on her stomach. "I'd stay over at Nicole's later than what I promised and he'd usually blame Jesse for it. Can't blame Dad, he caught us making out once in my room. It's been rocky with him since."
"I believe you," I say.
"What I don't believe," Nicole says, moving to the floor and resting her feet on the bed, "is Jesse willingly talking to you. I know Jesse, he doesn't do that stuff unless the alternative option was death."
Rachel pushes Nicole's foot. "Not true."
"Yeah, yeah," she says, "not that point I'm trying to make here." Nicole steadies eye contact with Rachel and me, using her hands to visualise what she's saying. "He just doesn't go around talking to people about his problems."
I shrug. "Maybe he wants an ally. I don't know, Nicole. I'm confused as you are."
"Really don't wanna talk about this right now. Channing Tatum needs my attention." Rachel reaches across to my laptop and put the volume up higher, drowning out the crunch of popcorn. I frown at her forced smile, wishing I could do something to lighten up her situation. She laughs at a joke I don't get and digs her hand in the bowl of popcorn. I stare at the screen, appetite for hot celebrities gone. I just want Rachel to be back to her cheery self again.
***
Stacy's smile and face of splattered paint covers my screen, as my thumb hovers over the call button. My pulse is beating faster, my armpits are sweating more than usual. I can do it, I tell myself. Just make the call...
What if she doesn't want to talk to me? It's only been two days, but this is Stacy; two days is two hours for her.
I drop the phone on my bed and groan. Maybe a few more days should do it.
The front drawer rattles as my fingers search for my anti-depressants. I've forgotten to take it for a couple of days because the packet is so far back that I'm rarely reminded of it. The pill doesn't cease the ache in my chest or the perspiration on my body, but it suppresses my depression for some time. Hugging myself comforts the smallest yearnings I have for Stacy to hold me and tell me we can both get through this, that it hasn't been the first time, and it won't ever be the last. It's how I get by. Comfort. Whether they're words of encouragement or touches, I'll take either. Illusion or fact, I become determined to make the best out of my sufferings. Seven years. Why doesn't the distance feel longer than it should be?
"Keep looking at the phone any harder and it might break on you," Noah says.
I shrug in reply.
Noah sighs. "You waiting for a call?"
"Yeah," I say, glancing over at him at his desk.
"Parents?"
"No."
"Boyfriend? Girlfriend?"
I shake my head. As if anyone would date me.
"Whoever they are, call them yourself."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
I close my eyes and bite my tongue, regret pouring into my veins. I said too much already. "It's, uh, complicated. We had a fight."
Noah snaps a book close and opens up another. "All right."
"You're not going to ask anymore questions?"
"It's not my business," he says, and focuses back on his work. I pout to myself, disappointed to keep my thoughts shut when I opened my mouth already.
Raven swings by later, breaking the silence in the room. My cheeks pinch up automatically. "Hi, Raven."
"Hey," he calls, before turning to Noah. "You ready, mate?"
"Yeah." He pockets his keys and glances at me. "We'll study tomorrow. I'm off for the day."
I mutter a reply, too focused on the phone, waiting for it to buzz. Noah heads out the door, saying he'll wait in the car. Raven stays, his eyes crinkling on the edge as he observes me. "Thinking hard?"
"Sorry," I say. "I've got a lot on my mind."
"You don't need to apologise," he says. "I get it. Actually, the entire world gets it."
The statement doesn't make me feel better about myself.
Raven comes closer to my bed, his eyebrows pushed together in a worried form, and his smile curling slightly down. "Wanna talk about it?"
My phone is in my hand within seconds. "No, it's fine. I can handle it. Noah's waiting for you."
"He can wait. What can't is you. What's up? You look upset. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Tell me about your studies," I say.
Raven gives me a look. He knows I'm changing topics, but at this point of time, talking about him is more ideal than discussing about my issues. He sets a comfortable footing on the bed and leans back against the wall. "Retail. I'm taking a certificate for two years so I can get into my bachelor of business course."
I nudge him. "Didn't get the score you needed?"
He shakes his head. "I wasn't exam-material in high school. Don't think I am yet. I'm hoping with the extra two years it can enhance my skills, and I can finally get into the school that I want."
"Where do you want to go?"
He gives me a grin. "Out of the state. There's a University up in Queensland that has my attention. It's where most of my family is, so it's an extra bonus. Can't go wrong with that."
The phone shifts between my hands. "Sounds like you've got everything planned out."
Raven's back straightens, and a sparkle lights up in his eyes. "I can see it. Where I am and who I'll be. I've got all of me ready to take on this journey and become my own boss. And nobody can tell me what to do, or how to do it. I'm not following anyone, or keeping secrets for anyone. You know, this feeling of being free to become my own shadow. That's the plan."
"Oh," I say. My smile slips from its hold. "Must be exciting to know where your treasure is buried. Doesn't sound too hard at all."
He scoffs and rubs his chest. "In my dreams it doesn't. Real life can screw it up. But that's where all the hard work comes in. You do the work, you get rewarded. No point owning a map if you're just going to leave it lying around to rot."
"Aren't you afraid that you might lose it?"
He takes hold of my hand and flips it to the front. He taps in the centre of my palm. "This is a map specially designed for Lillian Camel, and she's the only one who can read these lines, the only one who understands the secret tunnels and boogytraps. And this is my map."
He flips his large, dark hand and lines it up beside my pale one. I take in a breath, admiring the detail on his palm. "I can read this map so clearly that I know where it begins and ends. And as long as my conscience is clear, it'll never lead me astray. My treasure is somewhere on this map, and it's my job to find it."
"But how?"
"Ah," he says, clearly expecting this question. "It's not the how you should be asking, but the when. You see Lillian, you can never lose this map. You can either use it or not. But by the end of the day, the reward rests on when you decide to make the choice. If you apply yourself, you will see the results. The lines become a lot easier to read." He drops his hand and rests it behind his head. "I'm almost there."
I couldn't help but laugh, and press my hand against the back of my neck, noticing the difference in temperatures. "Sounds like a 'stay in school' speech."
He shakes his head. "It's a 'your life is in your hands' speech. Literally."
I nudge his shoulder and smile, understanding the reference with much more clarity. The words echo in my head like a quote. It's nothing I've never heard before, but the way he approached it makes my skin crawl with ambition.
Raven presses his mouth together, not trying hard to hide a chuckle. "You liked that, didn't you? Yeah, I can have my moments. But I'm glad you feel better."
"I never said I wasn't okay."
"You didn't need to say anything."
My phone slides under my thigh. "Where're you and Noah off too?"
"Going to visit his parent's house for a while," he says, getting off the bed and heading towards the door. He pauses for a moment, an idea crossing his features. "Wanna join us?"
I blink up at him. "Oh, um, I'm good. I've got things to do. Anyway, I doubt Noah likes people getting to know his parents." A bit too late for me, but there is no way I'm mentioning that to Raven.
"Noah just doesn't like to share," he says, throwing his keys in midair before catching them gracefully in his hand. "It took a while until I was invited over dinner one time, and we've known each other two-three years by then. But when you really think about it, a twelve year old with family problems would feel embarrassed to bring over a friend. I understood that."
I peep up at this. "Are you talking about his brother?"
Raven stills throwing the keys, and his head snaps over to me within seconds. "Noah told you this?"
I swallow. "Per say, I suppose."
He nods, completely devoted in his thoughts. I grab my phone and squeeze it. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything at all. He's going to ask Noah, or worse, his parents, and find out about the dinner.
"I mean," I jump in, standing before him until he focuses back to me, "I don't know anything about his brother, I just know he has one. Noah doesn't talk about him, he's quiet when it comes to family."
Raven's shoulders slump, and the corners of his mouth curve upwards. "I'll see you later, Lillian."
My gut says otherwise.
I don't call Stacy.