30. nick
NICK
ANXIOUS UP-CHUCKING
The more trips we took to the car, the more Tallulah’s fellow interns poked their heads out of their dorms to investigate what was going on.
A few muttered comments about how they knew another student was bound to leave.
I glared and those comments stopped. Mostly, they seemed surprised that it was Tallulah of all people.
She ducked her head, embarrassed from the attention. When we returned to her dorm, we found Andrew, staring incredulously at the empty side of her room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Andrew demanded.
Tallulah faltered beside me. “I—I—”
“You’re forfeiting the internship?”
“No—no—”
“What’s the explanation for this?”
“Um—I—”
“She’s staying with me,” I explained, moving to pass him for the last of her clothes.
Andrew held out a hand. “Nicholas Kurosawa. You especially would know that Tomasini doesn’t like any deviation from his norm.” He huffed in hard breaths, genuinely concerned. “Tallulah, you’re a bright young star, how could you—?”
Tallulah’s voice was small. “Someone took my paper.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Andrew tried to soothe her. “Be reasonable, Tallulah. Even if you don’t win the ultimate prize, that doesn’t reflect your talent—”
“Nick’s house is—is only a few minutes from the Village, I—I’m moving in with him, and—”
“No.” Andrew dismissed her pleading. The rest of the interns flooded the hall, everyone craning their necks to watch. “You can’t leave. Tomasini would never allow it. It’s against the rules of the internship.”
My stomach sank. I didn’t think about that. Not really. Of course I’d never ask Tallulah to give up her internship. The way I saw it, I’d spent weeks watching them belittle and tear Tallulah down. I had to come up with a solution, I couldn’t stand by anymore.
Disappointment was a bitter taste. I couldn’t believe they’d force her to stay.
“Andrew?” Tallulah said, her voice shaky. “Where does it say that?”
Andrew paused. “Excuse me?”
“In the rules? Where does it say that?”
“Well…it…”
“I read every page of the introductory packet, every behavioral expectation directive, everything for this internship—where does it say that I have to live in the Olympic Village?”
It was Andrew’s turn to be flustered. He caught sight of the interns, about a dozen of them, crammed in the hallway, everyone leering to watch.
All of them seemed confused too, and nobody volunteered information to help Andrew out.
“Tomasini would never allow it,” Andrew said instead.
“I—I respect Tomasini’s tenacity,” Tallulah said, and I did a double-take. Because that was professional-speak bullshit. She didn’t respect Tomasini or the internship. “But I’m choosing to stay off property to finish my project. As long as I—I’m on schedule, I don’t foresee this being a problem.”
Andrew was frozen to the floor—everybody was silent.
I couldn’t fucking believe she said that to him.
“I suppose,” Andrew finally muttered, briskly leaving the hallway.
I stared, dumbfounded, as Tallulah whirled around and power-walked her way down the hallway in the opposite direction. Just like that. Just like that?! I couldn’t believe how badass that was. How she didn’t give a fuck—she just fucking left.
I strode after her, grinning so wide, my cheeks hurt. The second we were out of earshot I couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Did you see the look on their faces?”
Tallulah shoved open a door and I followed her inside without a second thought. It was a cramped bathroom, bare and fluorescent.
Tallulah barely had time to lean over before she violently threw up into the toilet.
My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Oh, fuck!”
“Get o—” Tallulah tried to say before vomiting again.
“Shit, I got you, hold on—” I wrapped her hair around my hand, helping her down as she crumpled to her knees. “It’s fine, let it out—”
“I don’t want you to see!”
“Tallulah, it’s okay—”
“Get out—”
“Fuck no, you don’t have a hair tie—”
Our words overlapped but that didn’t stop Tallulah’s anxious up-chucking. She finished emptying everything in her stomach and slumped against the glass wall of the communal shower, sitting fully on the ground. She put her head in her elbow, groaning.
“I’m on the floor of the bathroom,” she blubbered. “You’re here and you saw that—” I left to grab my water bottle from her dorm and offered it when I returned. She quickly shook her head. “I can’t drink from your water bottle—I got sick—”
“I’ll wash it when we get home.”
“No, it’ll be disgusting—”
“It’s fine, Tallulah. Just drink.”
Tallulah had the most pitiful look I’d ever seen and took small sips, knees up to her chin. “Thank you.”
It hurt to sit down, but I did it anyway, sliding beside her, legs stretched out. “That was pretty cool.”
“That was gross.”
“Not the puking. You standing up to Andrew.”
“Oh.”
“Pretty fucking cool.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Tallulah rested her cheek against my chest. I could hear the obnoxious trucks backing up out front, and the steady ker-thunk of something crashing into the floor above us. Probably the endless construction.
“I hate this internship,” she mumbled.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I know a fuzzy black rat at my place who’ll be so psyched to cuddle with you after this.”
“After we strip down and burn our clothes.” Tallulah shuddered. “They haven’t washed these floors since—I don’t think they’ve ever washed these floors.”
Hours ago, I was afraid to help her move because I didn’t want to be in a bad mood around her. I should’ve known that was impossible. Looking at her, a smile tugged up on my face. Tallulah grinned back at me, and before I knew it, we were both laughing on that nasty fucking floor.
Tallulah took another swig from my water bottle. “I’m ready to go home.”
We walked out of the bathroom together and I collected the last of her things, some clothes and odds and ends in the drawers.
Winona entered, closing the door behind her. “Tallulah?”
“Yes?”
“I…um…” Winona slipped out a folded piece of paper from her notebook. She fidgeted with it, clearly debating something, before she holding it out. “I—I didn’t know how to give this to you.”
Tallulah took it from her. “What is it?”
“Um…”
Confused, Tallulah showed it to me. It was a list of names of the interns with notes scribbled beside them.
“I asked around for everybody’s whereabouts the day you turned your paper in?” Winona managed.
“Holy shit.” I blinked. “Like a list of suspects?”
“Erm—kind of.” She shrugged, uncomfortable. “I don’t know if they told me the truth or…I don’t know. I hope it’s…helpful? I’m really sorry about your paper.”
“Thank you,” Tallulah murmured.
“No. Thank you.” Winona shrugged, eyes cast away.
“For the ticket. You didn’t…need to do that for me.
So, thank you.” She sucked in a deep breath.
“I’m sorry about the internship in general.
I knew you were a fish out of water, and—um—my mom is putting so much pressure on me to get this thing with Tomasini, and… and…”
Winona’s words tapered off and she hurried out of the dorm, the door shutting unceremoniously behind her.
I didn’t know what to think. A lot of the interns blurred together in a bitter, angry mass. They were Ivy League almost-grads, famous children of renowned journalists. They took this internship as a necessary evil before their careers were inevitably handed to them.
Tallulah stuck out.
It made me so much more protective of her.
I didn’t trust Winona or the list she gave. What if she was the one who stole Tallulah’s paper?
Tallulah bit her lip, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I think if it wasn’t for the internship, Winona and I could’ve been friends.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”
“I know you don’t like her. But sometimes I hear her phone calls with her mom. I know she’s under a lot of stress.”
I stared at Tallulah for long seconds, slowly shaking my head. “You are way too fucking nice.”
“I don’t know why you say it like that.” She rolled her eyes, taking my hand as we walked out. “You’re nice too.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, you’re sweet.”
“Sweet?” I bit back the smile. “Have you met me?”
“Oh, please. When I walk up from the bus, I can see into the windows. I see you and Rat cuddling on the couch before I walk in.”
“What about it?”
Her eyes flickered to mine, eyes furrowed. “You don’t like cats.”
I scoffed. “Who said that?”
“You did.”
“Wasn’t me.” I shrugged, leading her down the stairs. “Must’ve been somebody else.”
“You very clearly said—”
“Give me video proof, Tallulah, or there’s no evidence.”
She stopped at the bottom, her lips twitching before she burst into a laugh, ducking inside the hallway.
I grinned too, following her.