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Colby
When I saw Norah Sullivan standing in front of me in the hallway this morning, I was hoping and praying she was a mirage. A waking nightmare, if you will. But now, as I sit in the corner of the teacher’s lounge, trying to eat my bland kale salad in peace, I am disappointed to find that it was one hundred percent real.
She walks into the room with a huge smile plastered on her face and immediately starts chatting it up with some of the other women in the room. She introduces herself to a few people she doesn’t already know and hugs the ones she does. Gosh, does she have to be so loud and…happy? I see some things never change.
And what on God’s green earth is the woman wearing? It’s thirty-five degrees outside, and she’s wearing a knee-length skirt and heels. And has she never heard of color coordinating? Why does any one person need to wear the entire spectrum of the rainbow at once? Her skirt is green, her sweater is pink, her shoes are turquoise, and her lips are bright red. I hate that I notice her lips—that I’ve always noticed those red lips. I think she does that just to get under my skin. She’s the most annoying and infuriating woman I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.
This feels eerily like the first time I laid eyes on her in our seventh-grade history class. She walked into the room, squealed so loud I thought my ears would bleed, and then ran over to where I was sitting—well, to where her friend was sitting. Her long, curly hair was as wild as her eyes as she started talking to Cassidy, the girl sitting beside me and talking to me. She threw her bag down, sat at the desk that I was saving for Jameson, and then she refused to move when I tried to tell her the seat wasn’t available. She pointedly ignored me and started talking to her friend. Her voice was so unbearably loud. I was excited to get away from her incessant talking when the teacher started putting us in alphabetical order…until I realized I would be sitting right in front of her. I had to listen to her talk and talk and talk for the entire year. And we had so many more classes together throughout the rest of our middle school and high school careers. The amount of nonsense I was forced to endure from her bright-red mouth year after year was almost enough to drive me insane. How does one person have so many words in their head?
Some of the older teachers in the lounge get up from their seats to give her a hug and tell everyone else how much they loved teaching her when she was in high school. Everyone is happy to see her back in Waverly—everyone except me. Everyone has always loved Norah Sullivan and her eternal sunshine and optimism. It was kind of an understood thing that if you didn’t like her, you were wrong. I’ve always been the odd man out. I just think she’s fake. No one is that happy all the time.
After she greets every single person in the room as if they’re all long-lost friends, her dark gaze finally lands on me. It’s like she has intentionally saved me for last. Her smile turns evil in an instant, and her short legs strut over to me. She brushes her curly hair off her shoulder and sits in the seat directly across from me. Resting her elbows on the table, she interlocks her fingers and places her chin on top of her hands. Oh great, my peace and quiet has officially ended. I stare at her for a moment and decide to play along with whatever game she’s starting here.
“Norah, how thrilling to see you again. Waverly was so quiet in your absence,” I say before shoving the last bite of kale in my mouth. Her eyes narrow as she watches me chew, and I maintain eye contact until she can’t take it anymore.
She rolls her eyes and says, “Ah, Colby. It’s just like the days of yore. I can’t tell you how…despondent I felt upon seeing your smarmy face once again.”
“Still reading too many novels, I see. You sound like a Shakespeare tragedy.” I stand from my chair, and she follows suit after me. Even in her ridiculous heels, her eyes are only level with my neck. She cranes her neck back to look me in the eye, because it would be a sin to show your opponent any kind of weakness.
“Shakespeare wrote plays and sonnets, not novels. But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Whatever. Take it however you want. It has been a pleasure doing battle with you, Norah. I look forward to doing it again,” I say as I walk around her. I leave her standing by the table, watching me as I throw my salad container in the trash. I shove my hands in my pockets and walk out of the room.
It has only taken Norah one day to get back under my skin. Not even an entire day, actually. Eight hours to be exact, but who’s counting? I hadn’t thought about her in years, despite the fact that she filled my youth with misery.
Certain subjects were a struggle for me to get through with a decent grade. Like literature, for example. Why must we sit in a classroom and overanalyze a bunch of books written by dead people? I don’t get it. And of course, those were the classes that that woman was sitting directly behind me in, chatting with anyone and everyone around her. It didn’t matter who it was. There was always something for her to say to whoever would listen. And it didn’t matter how many times the teacher told her to be quiet. She could always whisper softer. It was like she didn’t know how to make her mouth stop moving.
I’m sitting in my truck, eating a protein bar that tastes like dirt and cardboard, when she walks out of the building. She stops in her tracks and wraps her arms around her body. I guess she’ll put more thought into her wardrobe tomorrow.
She scurries over to her car and quickly jumps into the driver’s seat. The wind whips her hair around, and she closes a chunk of it in her car door. I chuckle as she tries to free herself. Once she’s safely situated in her car, she flips the mirror down in front of her and checks her hair and lipstick. She has nothing to worry about. Everything still looks just as ridiculous as it did this morning. Her hair is just as big and frizzy; her lips are just as red.
I roll my eyes and wonder why I’m giving her so much of my attention. I put my truck into drive and pull out of my parking spot. I drive all the way to the gym in silence, stewing about what I’m going to do about Norah’s sudden reappearance in Waverly. I could simply pretend that she doesn’t exist. Ignore her. I could grit my teeth and force myself to be nice to her, even though she seems to have no interest in returning that favor if that encounter at lunch tells me anything. The way she looked at me at lunch made my skin crawl. But I can put my mind to it and be the bigger person—literally and figuratively.
My best friends, Jameson and Seth, are already waiting for me when I get to the gym. Jameson is laughing at something Seth is saying. Something ridiculous, I’m sure. I’m not in the mood for ridiculousness.
Jameson takes one look at my face when I walk inside and asks, “What’s wrong with you today?”
“You will never believe who’s back in town…and teaching at the high school,” I say as soon as I’m standing beside them. I still can’t believe it myself, and I’ve seen her with my own two eyes. I’m still holding onto hope that it’s all been a horrible dream. Maybe one of them will punch me and wake me up.
“You mean Norah?” Jameson asks with a crooked smirk on his face. How did he already know about this? And why didn’t he warn me? He knows how much we despised each other in high school, and I’m sure he’s loving watching me squirm being in her presence again.
“Norah Sullivan?” Seth asks with a smile. “She was such a cool girl back in the day. How is she?” I level him with a glare, and he visibly shudders. “I mean, ew, Norah? Can’t stand her. Yuck. Cooties.” I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to Jameson.
Seth and Norah were friends before she moved away. They actually dated for about a month our junior year but then decided they were better off as friends. I am certain Norah only dated him to get on my nerves, but I couldn’t say anything because that would have crushed Seth. I was forced to sit with them at lunch and listen to her fawn over Seth. She would laugh at every little thing he said, and her laugh is excruciating. It’s more of a cackle…and she snorts. I wish I was making that up just to make her less attractive, but it’s the honest-to-God truth. I eventually started sitting at another table by myself until they broke up, so I guess you could say her diabolical plan worked. She succeeded in driving me completely out of my mind.
“Do you know why she moved back?” I ask Jameson, and he just shrugs his shoulders. I have to know what brought her back here so that maybe I can get her to leave again. That’s a much better plan than just sucking it up and dealing with her.
“Nana and Mama were talking about it last night. They said her parents are keeping pretty quiet about it,” Jameson says. Jameson’s mom is the most popular hairstylist in town. Everyone spills their guts to her while she’s doing her magic on their hair. If she doesn’t know what brought Norah back to Waverly, then no one does.
“Well, whatever it is, she needs to pack up and go back to wherever it is she came from,” I say.
“You’re being a little harsh, don’t ya think?” Seth asks. He’s right. I know he’s right. It has been thirteen years. We’ve both grown and matured since we graduated high school. Not that our interaction at lunch displayed any of that supposed growth and maturity. It felt more like we hopped into a time machine and went right back to senior year, when we spent the majority of our time together in the principal’s office, getting reprimanded for arguing in class.
I grab a set of dumbbells and begin warming up my shoulders and arms. Okay, so she’s not going anywhere. But we’re both adults. We can coexist without any major incidents now. We’ll just have to keep our distance from each other and only interact when we have no other option.
Sure, Waverly High School is tiny, and it will be nearly impossible to completely avoid her presence. And of course, I was here first. She’s encroaching upon my space. You know what? I refuse to tiptoe around her, so if she has any interest in keeping the peace, she’ll have to stay away from me.
“Are you okay?” Seth asks as he warms up beside me. I lower my weights and look at him.
“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. I will not let her put me in a sour mood or ruin my day. I will not sit and stew about her. I’m forcing her out of my mind right now. Seth is opening his mouth to respond, and in the distance behind him, the front door opens. Three women breeze into the gym with smiles on their faces. It’s her. Norah. She’s been here for, what? A day? And already she’s everywhere, invading my space and crowding me out.
She’s with two of her sisters, who both look far too similar to her. They have dark, curly hair like her, although the younger one’s hair is more wavy than curly. They all have brown eyes, but Norah’s are so dark you almost can’t tell the iris from the pupil. I groan as I watch them all talking to the woman at the front desk as Norah signs up for a membership. A membership at my gym. Can’t she go someplace else? There must be somewhere else she can workout.
No, I don’t own the place, but this gym has always been my refuge. It’s my place to go when I need a moment of peace, a place to blow off steam, a place to clear my head. She’s already invading my workplace, and now she’s invading this, too. Is nowhere safe anymore?
I hear her cackle as she fills out her papers, and I can’t stand it. “I’m going to the rower,” I say.
“But I thought today was arm day for you,” Seth calls out as I turn and walk to the back of the gym. So much for not letting her force me out.
