42. Chloe
42
CHLOE
E arly the next morning, I woke up to a shrill call on my phone.
I groggily blinked my eyes open.
The morning sun was slicing through the curtains and dispelling the warm, gooey thoughts I’d been having.
The room swayed, and for a moment, I wondered if I was still dreaming.
I’d had dreams of Sean tossing me over his shoulder and whisking me off to a private room, but, no, this wasn’t that.
This wobbly sensation was all too real.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, hazy bits of the fragility of my bed coming to mind.
The bed creaked, as though protesting my movement.
With a splintering crack, one of the legs detached from the frame.
I teetered, arms flailing, trying to regain balance.
My shoulder collided with the side table, and I winced, pain radiating through my arm as the side table fell and books and my alarm clock toppled.
I stood up immediately, nursing my bruised shoulder, and surveyed the aftermath.
The bed leg lay on the ground, and the bed was a sorry figure, tilting sideways.
The side table was fine, but the bruise on my shoulder was dark, and I knew it would be a few days before the pain went away.
And miserably, there wasn’t any sign of Sean in the room.
I sighed, realizing I’d been dreaming, and gingerly reached for my phone, checking to see whose call I’d missed.
It was from Luna Moore, a friend I’d made at work.
I called her back, and when she answered, I apologized for missing her call.
“Is Henry fine?” she asked, mentioning that she had seen the news about the fire at his college on the TV yesterday.
“He is, thankfully.”
“Oh good,” Luna responded.
“Because the news article made it seem like he was scarred for life or something.”
I ran to my laptop, phone still pressed against my ear as I switched it on.
“What newspaper was this?” I asked as I pulled up the search bar.
I forgot everything about my bruised shoulder from then on.
I typed in the name of the newspaper she had given me— The City Observer —and stared with a sense of doom at the first article that showed up.
Chaos at Hudson Ridge Community College during an emergency lockdown .
Drill Coordinator Ian Marcus and Student Leader Henry Nichols failed to prepare the students for an emergency situation.
My heart almost stopped when I reached Henry’s name in that sentence.
“God,” I muttered, reading the rest of the article quickly.
It wasn’t true—Henry had tried his best to get the college’s Public Safety Department to conduct safety drills.
I’d seen him on many occasions writing letters or speaking on the phone to raise awareness .
The rest of the article tried to put the blame on the college for not being up to the mark on the ISO standards for safety, but Henry’s name kept coming up in a way that made him seem at fault—Henry didn’t take his role seriously and wasn’t responding to the calls on the speaker during the actual emergency, adding to the stress of the crisis.
How dare they? He had been locked in the building, and there was no way he could have responded to any call unless someone let him out.
Bristling, I ended the call and dashed out of the room, hoping to find Henry and prepare him for the twisted versions of this article that he might face.
On the way, I passed Henry’s room and saw that his computer was on even though he wasn’t in there.
My heart sank when I saw the same news article about the emergency incident at college on the screen.
Shoot. He was already going to have a hard time getting mentally ready to face college again after yesterday’s traumatic event.
This was just making it worse and worse for him.
I ran into the living room and saw Henry had rolled over to the window and was looking out.
From his posture, I could sense that all was not well with him.
“Henry,” I began, walking up slowly to him.
He didn’t turn to me for a long moment, and when he did, I could see it in his face.
The broken look. It was there in the set of his jaw and that hopeless look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said, going over and leaning down to put my arm around his shoulders.
He nodded, resting his hand on mine for a second before pulling away.
“How do you feel about lasagna for dinner?” he asked, wheeling himself into the kitchen.
“Looks like I’m not going to be student leader much longer, so I’ll be home early after all. I’ll cook. I need the distraction.”
I swallowed and followed him, determined to let him have his way today.
“Lasagna sounds lovely,” I said, my voice hoarse.
He turned to me, and when he met my gaze, he gave me a small nod.
He realized I wasn’t going to insist that he fight the administration on this.
“I’m sorry about that article,” I said, watching him pull the box of cereal out of the lower drawer and placing it on his lap before reaching for a couple of clean bowls for the two of us.
“They’re complete idiots.”
“Well,” Henry said, going over to the table and placing everything on it, “they have all the power, Chloe. We don’t. Did you know that Gallagher News was going to interview me today for a job once I graduate next month? Articles like that can ruin my job prospects, even before I’m out of college.”
He poured out a small portion of cereal for himself—one third of his usual amount—and my usual amount in my bowl.
Pouring the milk out into our bowls, he began to eat before gesturing for me to join him.
I sat down across from him just as I got a call from Sean.
I answered it quickly, keeping an eye on Henry, who was still eating absently.
I loved hearing from Sean, but right now was not a good time.
“Can I call you back in some bit?” I said when I put the phone to my ear.
I didn’t want to give anyone else my attention when Henry was hurting.
Besides, part of me wanted to know more about Henry’s graduation plans.
It was something he’d been very reluctant to speak about, and I wanted to be around in case he finally decided he was ready to talk about it.
Sean paused for a second.
“Of course,” he said, sounding guarded.
“I’m just getting you coffee on my way to work, and I wondered if you’d like breakfast too. Belgian waffles with fresh berries or a pancake soufflé perhaps?”
I stared at the two bowls of Kroger cereal on the table.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling flustered and almost dropping the phone in my hurry.
“But I’m finishing up breakfast here with Henry. Coffee would be lovely though.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon at work. And, Chloe, in case you haven’t heard, The City Observer has a slanderous article about yesterday’s incident at Henry’s college.”
“I know,” I said, my voice humorless.
“It’s terrible.”
None of my boyfriends have ever kept an eye out for Henry before , I thought before I realized what I’d referred to Sean as.
Why am I thinking of him as my boyfriend?
“I’ll make them pay for it, Chloe. Don’t you or Henry worry.”
He hung up, and I stared at my phone for a moment before setting it back down on the table.
Sean’s voice had been filled with a quiet rage, and I almost feared for that reporter on the newspaper.
Serves them right.
Henry looked up, his face serene and unchanged.
“Does your boss know about the article too?”
He’d obviously seen Sean’s name on the caller ID.
I nodded, trying to look nonchalant.
Thankfully, I hadn’t added a photo of Sean to his contact details on my phone.
If Sean was going to show up at home again, would I continue to lie about who he really was?
“Could you pass the raisins, please?”
He reached for the box of raisins and checked that we weren’t out of it yet before he passed it to me.
“That’s odd that he cares,” Henry said.
“But he’s a lot more thoughtful than Dad ever could be. That’s obvious.”
The spoon of cereal I was lifting to my mouth slipped from my fingers and clattered to the table, splashing milk and cereal outside my bowl.
Our eyes met over the table as Henry reached for a paper towel on his right and rolled it over to me.
He took another calm spoonful of his cereal.
I caught the paper towel as it neared me and tore off a piece, wiping the mess with more intensity than needed.
We never brought up Dad if we could help it.
I always thought it was too painful for Henry to hear.
But now, I realized it was more painful for me to hear his name being spoken than it was for Henry.
I'd never forget coming home one night after school and realizing Dad had just left.
Even though I'd destroyed Dad’s letter, Henry had eventually peeked into Dad’s closets while I sat frozen, and discovered they were empty.
“Dad left us,” he'd said. “We were too much for him to bear.” Henry had sounded more heartbroken than he had the night of his accident.
That was when I lied and told him I’d asked Dad to pay my college tuition because my student loan hadn’t been approved. I claimed Dad had left me, and over the next few weeks, I built on that lie, embellishing it until it felt so real that Henry finally believed me.
In reality, I’d felt more empty and alone than ever. I’d tried to wipe all memories of that night from my mind and accept the new normal: I was all alone in caring for Henry now.
Sean hadn’t done that.
He’d seen me at one of my lowest moments, and instead of making a run for it, he had actually asked me out.
If that didn’t make me feel nervous about the night I had coming up with him, then I didn’t know what would.
Henry continued speaking. “Hey, do you want to watch a movie in the evening? Something to take our minds off this mess?”
I stared at him. I was desperate to finally get an evening with Sean. But I also knew I was asking for a lot to leave Henry when he was feeling low like this.
I steeled myself and looked at Henry. “I might not be able to join you for the movie tonight,” I said carefully. “I’m going out.”
He frowned. “Is this another task for your boss?”
I debated telling him the truth, which was futile when no part of me wanted to talk about the gray line that Sean and I were toeing. Henry wouldn’t approve of me having a casual fling with my boss. He was far too logical. Why did I have to come clean to Henry when this was just a fling?
Sean and I would end this soon, and Henry would never need to know.
“Yes,” I said. “Just another work thing.”
Henry nodded, like he wasn’t surprised.
“I’ll be back soon though; don’t worry,” I said.
Henry’s phone rang at that instant, and we both jumped before he answered it.
“Yes, it’s me,” he said into the phone. “Yes,” he said, humming in agreement.
I could see his expression change, and in a minute, a look of bewilderment took over. Pressing his head down to keep the phone plastered between his shoulder and his ear, he continued to listen intently.
“Yes, I see. Okay, that’s good to know. Bye.”
He hung up and turned around. “ The City Observer just called me to apologize for that article,” he said, sounding taken aback. “They’ve pulled it down, and they’re making a new one, which includes an apology as well as correcting the details of their reporting.” He stared at me. “Just how well connected is your boss?”
My jaw dropped when I realized what had happened. Sean had used his contacts to make a freaking newspaper issue an apology.
“Very well connected, I guess,” I said, feeling breathless.
Just how influential was Sean in this world? Who the heck was this man I was dating?
The care that this man was putting into making my life easier—heck, making Henry’s life easier—was astounding. My emotions spiraled out of control, threatening to choke me with their intensity as they took over. Sean had made me feel like I wasn’t alone in caring about Henry. He had Henry’s back too. I blinked rapidly, trying to stem the tears that had already made my eyes misty.
How nice of Sean to think of this. How had I ever thought he was coldhearted?
I stared when I saw Henry wheeling himself away from the dining table and taking his half-eaten bowl of cereal and dumping the rest of it in the sink.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’d better not be late for class,” he said, rolling out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom. “And I’ve got a meeting in the evening with the Public Safety Department. Sorry, sis, there won’t be any lasagna tonight.”
Henry was back to normal, thanks to Sean.
I grinned. “Well, there had better be some tomorrow.”