Chapter Five
IT’S BEEN FIVE DAYS since I’ve seen or heard from Nora. Five days, but she’s been on my mind more than ever. And what she said about Dakota. It just can’t be true, but it keeps playing over and over in my head. Why would Nora say that? And with such venom?
Tessa mentioned that she worked a shift with Nora last night and that Nora seemed distracted and was barely speaking. Tessa didn’t know why, but she thought it was weird.
Distracted by me?
Doubtful.
I realize that I do barely know Nora. Maybe she’s right—getting to know her would mean I wouldn’t like her. She turned so aggressive so quickly. For a moment I decide to call Nora Sophia. I didn’t know Sophia, not the way I was starting to know Nora, and if I separate the two of them, my life will be easier, so maybe I should admit I don’t know this girl and go back to Sophia.
Still, a big part of me hates that she felt like I wasn’t paying attention to her, that I ignored her for Dakota. It wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. I was already in love with Dakota when I met Nora; I didn’t know that I was supposed to be paying attention.
I didn’t know her attention was mine to have. I thought of her as Sophia, the older, beautiful chef who would never give me the time of day. But now in this city she’s become Nora, the stunning and mysterious friend of Tessa’s who said all those hurtful things about Dakota . . . and who’s doing a good job of making me fall for her.
Falling formay be too dramatic, but I’ve certainly been interested in and very, very attracted to her. And in turn, she’s gone off on me and basically told me to fuck off. Along with her revelation about me needing to mind my own business, she told me that Dakota cheated on me, more than once.
My head still hurts at the thought, and I haven’t made up my mind whether or not I want to ask Dakota for the truth. Part of me thinks that Nora was just mad and in the heat of the moment started spewing out whatever she thought would hurt me the most. That being said, that part of me isn’t big enough to ignore that it takes a lot of effort and emotional gymnastics not to believe Nora. She might just be playing to my worst fears, but what she said feels true.
Tessa’s voice surprises me. “Did you really do another load of laundry?”
I set the stack of towels down on the ground and turn to her. She’s standing in the hallway, her lime-green tie bright as ever.
“Yes. It’s time I start helping more around the house. Well, apartment.”
I open the closet, and Tessa leans against the wall. She’s wearing makeup today; her eyes are lined with black and her lips are shiny. It’s been a while since she’s worn makeup. She’s beautiful without it, but today she looks a little less sad than she has the last few months.
Hardin’s flight lands any minute, and I’m wondering if the two are related. I thought she would be more upset when I told her, more zombielike than usual, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. She seems to be brighter, her steps lighter.
“You help just fine. I like to clean, you know that.”
“Sure,” I halfheartedly agree.
This little hallway closet is impossible to use for anything. The three shelves are really small, and the bottom section is taken up by the vacuum and the broom. I shove the towels in, hoping they won’t fall before I can close the door. But fall out they do, and I reach down and pick them up.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” Tessa asks softly. “I shouldn’t be nervous, right?”
I shake my head. “No, not weird at all. I’m nervous, too.”
I laugh, not joking at all, and shove the towels back into the closet, trying to keep them as folded