Forging Chaos (Forging #3)

4. Thora

CHAPTER 4

THORA

I slip into Fuel Up, the trendy bar where I work too many hours, my mind a whirlwind. The familiar scent of stale beer and greasy bar food hits me, but it does nothing to calm my nerves after seeing Odin so messed up. My hands shake as I tie my apron, and I nearly drop a glass while setting up the bar.

"Real smooth, Thora," I mutter to myself. "First, you act like a weird robot in front of the injured hottie, and now you can't even handle basic bartending tasks. A stellar day all around."

As I start serving the early crowd, my mind keeps replaying the scene at the hospital. Odin's shocked face when I burst in, babbling about our project like some kind of sociopathic academic drone. God, there I was, this crazy-eyed loudmouth, more concerned about a class assignment than Odin’s injury.

A customer snaps his fingers at me, jarring me back to reality. "Hey, sweetheart, you gonna stand there all day, or can I get another beer?"

I plaster on my best fake smile. "Coming right up, sir. And hey, maybe we could work on using our words instead of treating me like a dog? Just a thought."

As I pour his beer–extra foam because fuck him–I can't help but draw parallels between this interaction and my behavior at the hospital. Was I any better than this entitled jerk demanding Odin's attention when he was clearly in pain? Some Rhodes Scholar I am. I can't even manage basic human empathy. Although … I didn’t infantilize Odin with a chauvinistic pet name, so at least there’s that.

The bar door swings open, and in walks Fern, practically floating in a post-sex haze. I’m happy she had a reunion with her hottie. Odin’s cousin, I remember. Family.

Fern’s hair is mussed, and a small blue bruise is peeking out from under her collar. I raise an eyebrow as she approaches.

“You and Wyatt made nice, I take it?”

Fern grins, unabashed. "Oh, hush. You were the one who turned me into this person. What is it you always say? Stick a peen in it and forget for a while?”

Her words sting more than they should. "Yeah, well, some of us have more pressing concerns than getting our rocks off."

Fern's smile falters. "Okay, spill. What happened at the hospital? And don't say 'nothing.' I know your 'I fucked up' face, and you're wearing it hard right now."

I sigh, glancing around to make sure no customers need me before leaning in. "I may have royally screwed up with Odin today."

“How? Didn’t you give him the cookies? Men love cookies.”

I groan, recounting my disastrous hospital visit. With each word, Fern's eyes grow wider. When I finish, she lets out a low whistle.

"Wow. That's...something."

"I know. Who does that? Who bursts into a hospital room and immediately starts talking about a class project? I'm a monster, Fern. A grade-obsessed, compassionless monster."

Fern reaches across the bar, grabbing my hand. "Hey, stop that. You're not a monster. You're just...intensely focused. And under a shit-ton of pressure."

I snort. "Yeah, because that makes it so much better. God, what if they revoke my fellowship? 'Sorry, Ms. Janssen, we've decided you lack the basic human decency required to represent our institution.'"

"Thora, breathe. They're not going to revoke your fellowship over one awkward interaction. And let's be real, you've got so much riding on this project. It's not unreasonable to be worried about it."

I nod, knowing she has a point. But the guilt still gnaws at me. "I just...I should have been better, you know? He's lying there with his life in shambles, and all I could think about was my stupid GPA. A rational person would have just sent the cookies with his cousin. And a note."

The bar starts to fill up, and I throw myself into work, grateful for the distraction. But even as I mix drinks and fake laugh at terrible jokes, my mind keeps drifting back to Odin. To the way his blue eyes had widened in surprise when I burst in, to the hurt that had flashed across his face at my callousness.

During a lull, I can't help but check my phone. No messages. Not that I expected any, but still. My finger hovers over Odin's contact info that Stellan gave me when we left the hospital. He was weird about it, too, like I’m interested in Odin for sexy times and not just a means to a four-point-oh.

Should I text Odin? Apologize? But what would I even say? 'Sorry I acted like a robot with no feelings. Hope your catastrophic injury isn't too inconvenient for my academic goals.'

Fuck that. I did offer to do the whole project so it could be one less thing he worries about. Is academic integrity important to him? I don’t know which way is up at the moment.

So, instead, I respond to a text from my mom, firmly telling her that no, I will not stop for cigarettes for Dad on my way home. I wish this happened rarely enough that I was shocked about the request, but I am not.

As the night winds down, Fern finishes chatting with the staff and prepares to leave. She fixes me with a stern look. "Promise me you'll be kind to yourself, okay? You're allowed to have conflicting feelings. You're allowed to worry about your future and still care about others."

I roll my eyes, but I can feel a small smile tugging at my lips. "Yes, Mom. I promise to practice positive self-talk and all that jazz."

She grins, pulling me into a quick hug. "That's it. Now go home and get some rest. And maybe think about texting that current obsession of yours."

"He's not my anything," I call after her, but she's already out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts again.

As I walk toward the bus home, the cool night air clearing my head a bit, I allow myself to really think about Odin—not just as a project partner or an inconvenience to my plans, but as a person. What must he be going through right now? His whole future, everything he's worked for, is suddenly up in the air. And yet, when I saw him, he still managed to be kind, even in the face of my spectacular social ineptitude.

He must have been on some intense pain meds, based on how his pupils looked in the hospital. Not that I was looking at his pupils at all.

I think about his family, too. The way they rally around him, their love and concern palpable even to an outsider like me. It makes me ache a little for reasons I don't want to examine too closely. Fern’s always talking about that family, how tight they are, and how they support each other. It helps when you always have your basic needs met and don’t have to panic about money constantly.

And I’m going to become a person who works to change that! We can become a country where everyone has that sort of chance, dang it. I just need to finish this last month of college and step into my true purpose: Thora Janssen—International Policy Researcher. Rhodes Fellow. All around policy changemaker.

And then, unbidden, my mind drifts to less...academic thoughts. Like how Odin looked unfairly attractive even in a hospital gown. Or how his hand felt when our fingers brushed as I offered him a cookie. I shake my head, trying to dislodge these unhelpful thoughts. This is ridiculous. I do not have time for a crush.

As I reach my parents’ house, I make a decision. I'll find a way to make this right. To balance my coursework with human decency. To be worthy of a Rhodes Scholarship and, more importantly, deserving of Odin's forgiveness.

But as I crank up my air purifier and climb into bed, my last thoughts before sleep claims me are of piercing blue eyes and a smile that makes my heart do somersaults.

I am so, so screwed.