CHAPTER THREE
Nora
My claw-bent fingers gripped my laptop, pretending it was Corey’s head as I slammed it closed. I snatched my phone from my bag and jotted down some items to pick up from the store on my way home.
DUCT TAPE.
Two underlines.
Next week, I’d stumble and slap a strip of it to the hairs on Corey’s arm like the junior he made me out to be. I’d known he was trouble from the moment he’d stepped into the classroom on our first day earlier this year and sat in the chair I’d been eyeing.
For the next ten months, I’d glared at the back of his golden hair, daydreaming about trimming the curls, hiding gum in there, and straight up smacking the smug look off his face every time the teacher congratulated his answer.
Brad never praised me. But when Corey suggested an asterisk as a wildcard character to help searching the status of a data entry form, he looked like he wanted to give him a standing ovation.
No amount of motivational reading had cleansed the hatred poisoning my body each Monday when he took his seat in his entitled designer clothes – especially after his absence on his birthday, like a six-year-old taking the day off school.
You’d think he walked around with a get out of jail free card based on the way he played by his own rules.
Now, from the door, his jeans hung from his hips, perfectly tailored to his sculpted physique, which made me want to terrorise him with a hack saw.
He pulled his trademark green cap from his bag and placed it backwards on his head despite the sunset, apparently horrified at the idea of allowing the rays to touch his delicate skin.
Or perhaps the poor soul worried he’d get moonburnt.
His head turned in my direction and he glared at me with his lifeless grey eyes.
‘Do you need a pen or something?’ His ego was so big it spilled out his mouth.
My face turned every shade of pink, then ramped up to red when desks rattled as the remaining students packing away turned to face me.
At this point, it would have been rude for them to ignore yet another argument between us.
As if it wasn’t enough that he’d tried to one-up me the entirety of that last session, now he tried humiliating me before I’d finished packing to flee the classroom? I don’t think so.
‘Actually, yes, please. Mine ran out of ink.’ A shitty lie, but I couldn’t flush my pride down the toilet without a fight.
Signing up for this advanced diploma had turned out to be the worst decision, and I cursed myself for not thinking my Diploma of Finance was enough.
I couldn’t back out though. My mother was delighted that I’d grabbed the idea by the balls (her words, not mine) and helped complete the form on my phone before she’d dished out dessert.
She’d harped on about how this would solidify my résumé and help me climb the ranks, and that little motivator was all it took for me to arrive to class on time to continue building a life that didn’t rely on a man, so my life would not turn out like hers.
After all, when your single mother insists she wants the best for you, you commit, because the woman who gave you life, along with every ounce of support you’ve ever wanted, deserved that kind of love and commitment.
Even if her husband hadn’t followed through and failed to ever contact me or my twin brothers again.
He could be living in the Bahamas for all we know.
Peppermint invaded my nostrils as Corey now stood in front of me with a disgustingly attractive smirk on his face.
‘Mind if I try for you?’ He reached forward and grabbed my pen before I could say ‘no’ and throw the working pen out the window. A smooth black line marked the top of my page, followed by a satisfied raise of Corey’s eyebrow. ‘Huh, seems to be working fine to me.’
‘Well, it, uh – it wasn’t working before.’ I snatched my pen back from his fingers, which were as cold as his soul.
His peppermint scent left as quickly as it had arrived, and when I dropped my shameful gaze, I noticed the time on my phone.
My bus was due any minute. Fumbling with my textbooks, I pulled them into a shambolic pile and stuffed them into my bag with no time to zip it up.
I shoved my ancient laptop under my arm and raced out past Corey.
By the time I made it to the bus shelter, the bus was nothing more than a speck in the distance. To make matters worse, Corey’s voice echoed down the street behind me.
‘I’ve got your book.’ His feet slapped the pavement.
‘Why?’ I moved closer and snatched it from his hands.
‘It fell from your bag when you ran out the door.’
‘Yeah, well, I was going to miss my bus. Which I ended up missing anyway.’ I frowned at the empty road.
‘Ah, bummer.’ He didn’t sound sorry at all. If anything, he desperately tried not to smile. ‘How long ’til the next one?’
I checked the time on my phone. ‘Half an hour.’ I slumped onto the metal bench ignoring my rumbling stomach.
Corey’s gaze hadn’t lifted from my hunched shoulders.
I could tell from the lurch in my stomach and shiver down my spine, the sensation of being watched that turned my body into an armoured guard.
I pulled out my phone and tapped a message to Hayley.
If I died out here, at least he’d be the first murder suspect.
‘I can give you a lift, if you like.’ The words rushed from his mouth like a freight train.
My fingers paused and I lifted my head. ‘A lift from you? No thanks.’
Light droplets tapped the tin roof above us and he shuffled his weight inside the bus shelter, waiting for me to change my mind.
I glared at him, mortified by his very existence. ‘I said no, thanks.’
Not even the boyish charm of his ripped jeans and backwards hat could save him from the judgement I’d casted on him.
Zero chance I’d get in the car with that conceited asshole.
The tapping on the tin roof turned to pounding as a rumble drummed through the sky, followed by a sudden flash.
I slid to the back of the bench, trying to angle myself away from the rain invading the shelter.
Corey pulled a business card from his wallet and held it in front of me.
‘I don’t need any Tupperware or whatever the hell you’re selling,’ I snapped.
First, I had spent the entire class being shown up by yet another man in a position I can’t seem to get to, then I had missed the bus, and now he wants me to see his VIP business card? Give me a break.
Corey’s laugh was annoyingly musical, like the opening beats to a hit song. ‘It’s to show you I’m not a serial killer or anything.’
‘Even serial killers have jobs,’ I stated. ‘Obviously. How else would they afford the equipment they need to kill and hide the evidence?’
He laughed harder. ‘Nora, please, let me give you a lift home. Or at least some money for an Uber. It’s dark and wet, and you don’t look like you’ve ever been in a fight in your life. Being out here tonight seems like a terrible decision.’
I lifted my legs and wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to avoid the rain reaching for me.
‘I don’t need—’
Thunder roared loud enough that both of us jumped. I snatched my bag from the bench and raised my finger so close to his face he must have thought I might jab his eyeballs, because he winced and squeezed them shut.
‘Fine, but don’t get any ideas. I’m not afraid to break your nose.’
I doubt he believed tiny arms like mine could do that, but he knew better than to point it out and instead graciously led me to the carpark.
We stopped in front of a white Lexus, because of course he drove a high-end car, that managed to shine through the rain.
He held the passenger door open while I slid my wet ass onto the leather seat, only closing it once I’d pulled the hem of my blue dress in.
I might have considered him a gentleman if he wasn’t so aggravating.
‘Where do you live?’ His seatbelt stretched across his chest, likely built from protein shakes and weights.
‘I’ll direct you.’ I stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.
‘What was I thinking?’ he muttered.
Two minutes down the street, I gasped and turned to face him. ‘My seat is getting hot.’
‘Too hot?’ He made to reach forward and turn the heating down.
‘No, no. Perfectly hot. I thought I’d never have feeling in my ass again after the numbing of that metal bench.’ I wanted to be mad that he owned a car with seat warmers, but right now, I was grateful. ‘We’re going right at these lights, by the way.’
I pulled the visor down, then snapped it shut and looked side to side. My fingers jittered with nerves. I was inside Corey Flemmington’s prestigious white Lexus having my ass warmed by his seats. I hated how much I enjoyed this.
‘So, you wanna talk about that Freddie guy you mentioned earlier?’ his voice wavered.
My eyes narrowed, hopefully in a way that made him wish he hadn’t asked. He must have been used to tough people though, because his silence persisted as he waited for my answer.
‘No. It’s fine.’
‘Yeah, it sounds like it’s real fine.’ The sarcasm in his voice made me want to slap him.
He had no idea that I’d weaselled out of my family’s Sunday dinner, unable to break the news to my mother that I’d lost out to a less qualified man.
Her disapproval could be aimed at either the patriarchy or myself, and the idea that she’d consider me a failure would be another stake in the heart I couldn’t bear.
Just the thought of it had me burying myself deeper into the comfort of the burrito of bedsheets I’d wrapped myself into over the weekend.
I’d laid there from Friday evening to Monday morning like a stiff vampire decaying in her coffin, hanging up halfway through Hayley’s sympathetic voicemail.
The sun rose and fell, the moon shone, life went on.
Everyone’s life except mine.
‘A guy at work got a promotion that should have been mine.’ I sighed, remembering Freddie scurrying past my desk this morning avoiding eye contact.