CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nora
Corey arrived before the sun. Terrible symbolism.
I sat up in yesterday’s clothes, hand pressed to my forehead.
Today I’ll have been Corey for three days longer than expected, and I had one hell of a headache to go with an already disappointing day considering we had no idea how to switch back.
He yelled through the door, probably pissing off my chain-smoking neighbour.
I jumped out of bed with a churning stomach and startled Lucky who’d finally accepted the new me and tucked himself into the groove of my leg last night.
The sound of me removing the chain lock was all it took for Corey to twist the handle and barge in.
‘This isn’t working,’ he huffed, hand also pressed to his forehead.
Matching headaches. How cute of us.
‘No shit. That’s why I don’t normally go around jumping into other people’s bodies.’
‘No, I mean this living situation. I don’t want to drop off clothes for you, then worry about whether you’ve tied the tie properly, or gone rogue and dressed in your own special Nora way.’
‘You think I dress in my own special Nora way?’
Corey paused to stare at me. ‘Well, yeah. Your style is so… you.’ He shrugged.
For a moment, I didn’t move. I didn’t speak, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe. I just existed. I existed as Nora, with her own special Nora way, moonlighting as Corey… who thought there was something special about me.
When I dared to ruin the moment, I did it with every bit of embarrassment the world wanted me to experience, because, although I had frozen, my bodily functions hadn’t. Saliva dripped down my throat, gagging and choking me like the giant dick I currently babysat.
‘Are you okay?’ Corey’s face scrunched into disgust or concern; I couldn’t tell.
I bent over and hacked up phlegm like an eighty-year-old man, then straightened my posture as though nothing had happened.
‘So, anyway, what do you propose we do?’
Corey’s wide eyes didn’t blink.
‘Corey?’
‘Did you perform an exorcism or something?’
‘If I did, it didn’t work, because I’m still you.’ I held out my long, tattooed arm on display, my palm upwards showing the red curved mark. ‘If anything, it brought me closer to vomiting everything I drank last night.’
‘Don’t talk about vomit or drinks.’ He clutched his stomach. ‘Um, what were we talking about?’
‘Living situations.’
‘Right. I think you should move in with me.’
I waited for him to laugh, but the laughter never came. ‘Are you still drunk?’
‘No, I mean it. Move in with me.’
‘Oh, Corey.’ I fanned my face with my hand. ‘We’re moving so fast.’
I didn’t get more than six quick blinks in succession before Corey smacked my fanning hand down.
‘I’m serious. We can help each other get ready, ask questions easier, and if one of us finds the umbrella or figures out how to switch back, we can do it then and there.’
‘This feels like a bad idea. You’re going to fall in love with me.’
I should have been offended by the vicious laugh Corey mustered, but it was too infectious.
‘Seriously, my snores have been compared to a siren’s song of seduction,’ I insisted.
‘Siren’s lure men to their death. Your snores were probably likened to that particular ability.’
‘I haven’t even mentioned my beautiful breath in the morning. The impact of the trash bag hitting the bin to waft a decaying stench into the air? It’s got nothing on what my mouth brews overnight.’
‘I… don’t know what to do with that information.’
‘Then there’s the sleep talking,’ I continued.
‘Stop.’ Corey held his hands up. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing’s going on.’
‘You’re creating a list of your shittiest sleep habits to avoid staying with me.’
‘It’s bad enough you’re experiencing every flaw of my body. At least let me keep the rest private,’ I whined.
‘Never. I might risk running out of things to tease you about.’
I smacked his arm, forgetting my new strength.
‘Ouch,’ Corey yelped.
‘Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry.’ I rubbed my hand over his small arm, appreciating how smooth I was compared to Corey’s rough skin.
‘Let’s pack your shit and go. Okay?’
I dropped my arm and looked up at him. ‘Wait, why can’t we stay here at mine? I can’t leave Lucky.’
Corey walked from my kitchen to my living room, then into my bedroom.
‘Twenty-eight,’ he yelled.
I walked into the bedroom, hands on hips. ‘What?’
‘Twenty-eight steps and I’ve walked into every room in your apartment. Mine’s bigger.’
I glanced below my waist, then joined his gaze with a smirk. ‘Yes. It is. Impressively so.’
The pinkening of his cheeks sent a river of satisfaction streaming through my body.
‘Seriously, can we pack and go to mine? I’ve got more space, a spare room, plus there’s a pool.’ He grimaced for a moment then continued, ‘Lucky can come, too.’
‘Well, you only needed to mention the pool.’
I pulled my suitcase from under my bed and flung clothes into it from my cupboard.
I stared at my favourite white dress, then hung the hanger back on the rail.
That oaf couldn’t be trusted with that gorgeous silk masterpiece.
Instead, I pulled out a bright sunflower dress near the back and added it to the suitcase.
Its bright cheer may not get to hug my body, but I hoped its visual effect would be equally inspiring.
Corey grabbed the few items that landed on the floor, then followed me into the bathroom.
‘I won’t be using half that stuff.’ He pointed into my now half-empty cabinet.
‘Yes, you will, because for some reason women without makeup are treated like they’re either dying or incompetent.’
‘Oh, please,’ Corey scoffed.
‘Ever told a lady she looks tired over a pale face?’
‘Well, yeah. Being pale is a sign of tiredness.’
I waited for him to link the pieces together. When his hand finally flew to his face, I knew he’d connected the dots.
‘Men,’ I muttered.
I’d unpacked my things into Corey’s spare room and started rifling through the suits in his wardrobe when someone rapped on the front door.
‘Corey, can you get that?’
The shower started and I realised that no, Corey couldn’t get that. I opened the door to a guy in a black polo holding a small planter of shrubbery.
‘Corey Flemmington?’ the guy asked.
‘Yeah, this is his place.’ I scowled at the gift some girl had sent him.
I signed for the delivery and placed the gorgeous native shrubs on the dining table.
The shower was still trickling, so I changed into one of Corey’s expensive deep-grey suits, then sat on a dining chair in front of the romantic gesture.
By the time he joined me in one of my favourite baby-blue dresses, I’d imagined enough scenarios to last my brain a lifetime.
A girl he’d ‘forgotten’ to call after a night out.
A girl he’d forgotten to mention he was seeing. A girl he—
‘You ready to…’ His voice trailed off as his gaze landed on the dining table. ‘You bought me greenery?’
‘No. Some guy delivered them while you were in the shower.’
‘Oh, ah, do they say who they’re from?’ His eyes shifted around the room.
Corey Flemmington was embarrassed. Who would have thought?
‘No, and I’m sure it could be any number of girls.’ I rolled my eyes.
He didn’t respond, and I was in no mood to press him for more information. He can enjoy as many gestures as he likes, but he’s going to have to wait until he gets his body back before he can do anything about it.
‘Look, if I’m going to stay here, we should get to know each other a little more,’ I begrudgingly suggested. I was pretty sure I knew as much as needed.
Corey’s face scrunched as though I’d suggested we staple our eyelids together. He slumped his shoulders and nodded. ‘Fine, I need breakfast. We can go to the café down the road.’
Ten minutes later, he exited the bathroom with his hair tied back and a face of makeup he’d attempted with the skill of a toddler. I opened my mouth to offer help, then decided my reputation could take the small hit if it meant he spent the day walking around like a clown.
‘You, ah—’ My hand circled my face.
He smiled, revealing pink lipstick on his teeth. I couldn’t find any words to describe the mess on his face, so I smiled in return and gave him a thumbs up.
‘Right, we’re going to be late if we piss around any longer.’ I grabbed his briefcase from the floor.
‘Nora Claremont. Did you speak like a dungeon troll?’
‘I’m channelling my inner Corey; how’d I do?’
‘Not too bad, but let me fix your tie.’
My hand flew to my neck and cupped the royal blue material. ‘My tie is great; I watched a tutorial.’
He launched for the tie, but I turned at the last moment. Instead of meeting my chest, he landed on the floor, dress over his back.
‘Oof, nice choice of underwear. They’re my favourite, too.’
‘Well, now you’re being distasteful.’ He scowled.
‘Distasteful? Me?’
‘Fine, have a mediocre tie. Girls might get judged on their makeup, but watch every man you shake hands with raise an eyebrow at that jumbled piece of crap.’
I waited by the door with a triumphant smile.
This tie had been masterfully crafted with the skill of the origami champion of 2015 – something I don’t mention nearly often enough.
Corey stomped past, trying to outwalk me which used to come naturally to him.
But for every three quick steps he took, I met them with one long stride and a merciless smile.
My raised eyebrows were giving facelift vibes, but I couldn’t soften my victorious enthusiasm.
An apartment door opened, and a grey head of hair poked out. He caught my deranged gaze, and his neck wrinkles shook with his head as he muttered something under his breath, then slammed the door shut.
‘You’re infuriating,’ Corey grumbled.
‘You’re cute when you’re angry. Or really, I’m cute when you’re angry.’
‘You’re enjoying this too much.’ He raced into the elevator and jabbed the ‘close’ button until he broke my nail and growled.
‘You should know these doors aren’t fast enough for a trick like that. Or do you usually have an elevator butler take care of this for you?’ I shoved my arm against the closing door and took my place next to Corey.