ReCAP: A NORMAL Novella (6 page)

It's then that I remember we're not alone.
That there's an entire audience witnessing this right now, seeing
Rory half naked, and it's sparks something furious in me. I stop
restraining Rory, but I don't let her go, I just reposition her so
she's half facing me, hidden from the crowd.

"Get out of here!" I bellow. "All of you!" I
nod at Tuck, giving him a meaningful look, and he acts immediately.
It's barely a minute before everyone has been kicked out of the
bathroom, and I'm alone with Rory and Chelsea. Fucking Chelsea.

"What is wrong with you,
Chel? What were you
thinking
?!" I scold her. "Imagine if
you were a guy? Sneaking into the bathroom to photograph an
innocent girl changing?!" It's fucking inexcusable!

"She's not innocent!
She—“

"She's just a normal girl
who came to the bathroom for privacy!
God
, Chelsea! I don't even know you
anymore!" I can't understand what could possibly be going through
her head to make her think there's anything okay about taking a
picture of anyone while changing, and in a bathroom stall!
Jesus
!

But at least it shuts her up.

But Rory shivers, and I hurt for her. She
must be cold, and besides, I can't concentrate with her skin
showing like that. She's fucking incredible - a perfectly flat
stomach and round, full tits, lifted and pushed together by that
goddamned bra. It's fucking with me.

I shrug off my button down and hold it open
for her. She blinks at me, tears catching in her long, dark lashes,
making her eyes look even wider, more angelic. But she doesn't put
the damned shirt on.

"I-"

"Just put on the damned shirt, Rory!" I
snap.

I feel instant shame.
Rory's the one who's been violated and I'm letting the stress of
the situation make me snap at
her
. She swallows anxiously and a
tear slips down her cheek, and I wince. I am such a
dick.

But it isn't easy for me
to reign in my anger – never has been – and I'm fucking seething
for Rory, more than I would be even for myself. She's been through
enough shit in her life! Her own father betrayed her! Though I
don't know the details. And now she needs to put up from this from
a nasty bitch? Goddamn it!

Thankfully Rory slips on my shirt, and I
shoot Chelsea a warning glare as I pull it closed in the front, and
Rory wraps her arms around herself, holding it around her. I look
down at her, and she looks so unbelievably sad that it's strikes me
as physically painful. I can't bear it. I pull her back into my
arms, and hug her to my chest, and she lets go, crying softly into
my tee shirt.

I turn my glare back to my supposed family
friend. "Why? You need to start explaining, Chelsea, because right
now it looks like you harassed and assaulted Rory for no goddamn
reason, and I don't give a fuck how long we've been friends-"

"She had a baby, Cap," Chelsea says
tremulously. "She's manipulating you! Can't you see? She's the one
who attacked me! I mean, you saw!"

"Just because she wont the fight doesn't
mean she started it, Chelsea."

Chelsea looks offended,
and I'm even more pissed that that's what she's upset about – the
fact that I said Rory won the fight – which she clearly
did.

"You're a stupid, stupid girl," Rory
murmurs, her wet cheek pressed to my shirt, and I'm glad the fight
is returning to her. Not physically, but it's there just the same.
I can't stand to see her look so defeated. There is no winner here,
but there's only one loser, and I'm glaring at her with such
contempt it's a wonder we were ever friends.

"Excuse me?" Chelsea yelps, and I
practically bare my teeth in warning.

"I will
not
excuse you!
There
is
no
excuse! You're a stupid girl and the sad part is, you're wastin'
your time! If he doesn't want you it has nothin' to do with me!"
Rory rants, and I'm completely lost.

I thought this was about
Chelsea trying to embarrass Rory with photos of her changing, and
Rory handling it the way only a badass like her would. Who the fuck
is "he" and what the hell does it have to do with Rory? The thought
of Rory and some guy being involved somehow makes nausea crawl
through my stomach, though I have no right to my jealousy. Vaguely
I realize that it's the first jealous feeling I've ever had over a
girl, and I don't like it.

Chelsea looks worried, though, and whatever
they're talking about, I've no doubt that Rory has just hit the
nail on the head. "What are you talking about, Ror?" I ask her.

Rory pulls back to look at me meaningfully.
"She's in love with you. She's in love with you and she came after
me because she's convinced herself that I'm the reason you don't
want her," she says. My jaw drops.

Me?

I'm stunned into silence.

"But guess what... he doesn't want me
either! We've never been anything more than friends, we'll never be
anything more than friends! If he doesn't want you, then it has
nothing to do with me!"

I honestly can't believe
what I'm hearing. But the truth is, the shock over the revelation
that Chelsea might have feelings for me is overtaken by the sting
of Rory's words. Because no, she's not why I'm not interested in
Chelsea –there were more than enough reasons for that before Rory
ever showed up – but hearing it spelled out so vehemently that Rory
and I are nothing but friends, that we'll never be anything more…
it cuts me deeply. And it's irrational, because she's only
affirming something I already knew – that I've known from day one.
The only thing she said that isn't true is that I don't want her
either, and I'm only now realizing just how untrue that
is.

Chelsea narrows her eyes
at me – at us – in accusation. "It doesn't look like you're just
friends.
God
,
Cap, I was just trying to protect you. I knew she was hiding
something and I was right!" She points to Rory's hip again, at a
small, uneven scar that is definitely not from any C-section, and
my thoughts slide from regrets over my nonexistent relationship
with Rory back to seething anger. I can't believe Chelsea would do
something like this, and for what?

"So it's true? You fucking
attacked an innocent girl because you have a stupid
crush
?!"

That Rory has had to endure even an ounce of
hurt because of me is just more than I can take right now.

For the shortest moment
Chelsea looks like she might just realize how badly she fucked up,
but it's gone in an instant. "So it's true that you're falling for
this damsel in distress act? Is
she
lying or are you really just friends?" she
demands.

I don't know how I've been
put on the defensive, and my discomfort is a palpable thing in the
room. But I need to answer, and the truth is the only thing to say.
"We are nothing more than friends," I say slowly. "Which is more
than I can say for you and me," I add. Because there's no way I'm
going to pretend to be friends with Chelsea, regardless of our
history, after
this
.

I choose Rory. It's an easy goddamned
choice.

"Cap!" Chelsea whines and her voice is like
nails on a blackboard to me right now.

"Just get the fuck out of here," I order,
unable or not bothering to hide my disgust with her. "Now!" I add
when she doesn't go. I don't want to look at her for another
moment. And I want to make sure Rory's okay.

Chelsea exhales a huff of righteous
indignation, and she's completely delusional to think there's
anything righteous about her. I shove my hand through my hair,
trying to rid myself of this frustrated energy so I can refocus on
the girl who actually deserves my attention.

It kills me that she can't stop the tears
that slowly rain down her cheeks, because I know she's trying. I
know she wants to be fearless and strong. Not to cry in front of me
another time. But she doesn't have to hide from me. I won't judge
her. I've already promised her that, and I meant it.

But she won't even look at me. She just
holds my shirt around her protectively, trying to stop her tears,
and looking at some invisible spot that I suspect is just anywhere
but me.

"You okay?" I ask.
Please look at me.

But I don't push her. I'm the reason we're
here.

"
God
, Ror, I'm so sorry," I breathe.
I don't know how to make her understand how damned sorry I am. I'm
the reason Chelsea targeted her.
Attacked
her. After everything she's
already dealing with, and for the first time I wonder if maybe
she'd be better off we weren't friends, after all. Maybe I
am
only hurting her. And
the thought makes my breath catch.

But her eyes finally shoot
to mine, and they're fierce again. They're
her
. "
Why?"
she demands. "Why are you
sorry? All you did was help me. All you
ever
do is help me! And I've been
nothing but a bitch to you… I'm so fucked up." She starts crying
harder, and it absolutely guts me.

My arms reach for her
without even a conscious thought – they just know they need to hold
her. Her fingers clasp the material of my tee shirt, still damp
from her last tears, and she presses her face to it and adds to the
wetness. I hold her even tighter. I want to absorb all of it for
her, and I hope to God that with it I can also take on some of her
pain.

I rub my hand up and down her back, the
other stroking her hair, just like that time she'd panicked in the
library. This comforted her then, and I hope it helps now, because
holding her is certainly helping me. I breathe deeply, inhaling the
honey vanilla scent I've now come to associate with her, and that,
all on it's own, stirs that too-full sensation in my chest. Now,
having her close like this, it feels as if it might explode.

"You're not," I swear to her. I told her
this at lunch, and it caused an argument. And though that's the
last thing I want to happen now, I can't let her say that about
herself and not correct her. It's just total bullshit.

But she snorts. It's
adorable and irritating all at once. I look intently into her
eyes.
Hear me.

"You're
not
," I
repeat.

She stares at me, but she doesn't say
anything, she doesn't disagree, so I take my chance.

"We're all fucked up,
Rory. I've got problems too, and you
know
that. You know better than
anyone," I remind her. Besides my immediate family, Rory is the
only person other than Tucker who knows my father was abusive at
times. Violent enough to leave bruises, and a broken bone in my
mother and a sprain in me. And still, that feeling remains - that I
can tell her anything, that I
want
to tell her everything. And I want to know
everything about her.

"Chelsea is the one who
sneaks into bathrooms to photograph girls while they're changing,
and you think
you're
the one who's fucked up?" I need her to see this from the
right vantage point. Just because the guilty party tried to justify
her actions doesn't mean Rory is anything less than innocent in
this whole ordeal. She fucking tried to take a photo of Rory while
she was half naked! That's completely insane.
That's
fucked up. Not
Rory.

"You just have deeper
scars, maybe. Or maybe they're just more visible. But you're
not
fucked up
,
Rory. Not any more than the rest of us, okay?

I slide my thumb over each of her cheeks in
turn, brushing away what's left of her tears, and to my deep
satisfaction, her eyes fall closed, and she turns into my touch. I
can sense her body relax, feel her let go of her anguish, her
anger, still upset, but back in control.

She didn't even panic. She didn't need a
pill.

Fucking
badass
.

And i'ts goddamned hot.

Then her lip quivers. "I'm so sorry," she
whispers, and I frown in confusion, unable to guess what she would
have to be sorry for. "For what I said before. I didn't mean it.
Not all of it anyway. I just... I don't know what I'm doing."

I love her honesty. I've
loved it since day one. I've never known someone – specially a girl
– who so easily admits when she's in the wrong, who apologizes
without prompt or incentive. Or even actual guilt. It's interesting
looking at her and Chelsea side by side. They're perfect
opposites.

Chelsea isn't
unattractive. By most standards, she's pretty hot. She's tall,
probably an inch taller than Rory, and thin with small curves. Her
nose was sculpted courtesy of a top Nassau County plastic surgeon,
and she looks like she's been airbrushed considering the expertise
with which she makes up her face, false eyelash extensions –
according to Bits – lining her light green eyes. Her long hair is
always pin-straight, and her nails are always perfectly manicured.
She is, she's an attractive girl.

She's just never done anything for me.

Rory on the other hand, I
couldn't look away from her if I tried. But then again, I'm not
trying. But it's their characters that are really night and day.
Chelsea is self-serving, egotistical, and vindictive. Rory… she's
thoughtful and kind, honest and real. She's a breath of fresh air
in a world full of smog.