Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Cora
Sitting in the breakroom with Noah, I think about the day. He’s quietly eating the food Atlas made, and I have to admit, it’s really freaking good. He made some chicken and gnocchi concoction with a creamy sauce and spinach. I’m impressed. I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said he could cook.
“Noah, you okay?” I glance at him. He hasn’t said much since he came home today, and I don’t know how much to push.
We don’t really talk about our parents. I pray he doesn’t remember anything from the first two years of his life, but it’s hard to tell.
He doesn’t ask me about them, and honestly, if he did, I’m not sure if I’d have a good memory to share.
If I think long enough, I might be able to conjure up one or two.
“Yeah. Just mad.”
“About what?”
“Dylan can say whatever he wants, and no one cares. So what if my mom is dead?”
He says it in a way that makes me flinch. I know she’s gone and they weren’t good parents, but there’s something that still hurts when you hear a child acknowledge they’re an orphan.
“You did what was right, Noah. Kids like Dylan think they can say and do what they want. There will always be people like him.” People like Bea, I think, but keep it to myself. “There is nothing wrong with sticking up for yourself. Not everyone lives with their parents.”
“I know. There’s a new boy in our class this year. His name is Micah. He said he lives with people who aren’t even related to him.”
“You mean like a foster home?”
“Yeah. That’s it. He doesn’t know where his parents are. Dylan asked him, and when he started picking on Micah, I got mad. I told him his new haircut was stupid, and it was too bad his mom let him do that.”
“That wasn’t very nice, Noah.” Though if I remember this Dylan kid correctly, he’s not wrong. Focusing on the conversation at hand, I remind him, “Words have power, Noah. And what do we know about power?’
“We have to be responsible.”
“Yep. This is us taking responsibility for our actions. Was punching him right? Not really, but were you right to defend yourself? Absolutely. Have you talked to the teacher?”
“Yeah. She moved us, but she can’t help at recess.” He pushes around his food in the container, and I know our conversation is over.
“I’ll email her if you want,” I offer, deflating a bit when he shrugs his shoulders. Sighing, I give him a side hug. “I’m going back to work. You good back here?”
“Yep. Can I watch a movie?” he asks, pointing at the TV.
“Go for it.”
Getting up, I rinse out our containers in the sink and set them on the drying rack. Heading back out to the lobby, I’m prepared to work. There’s a pile of emails to go through, and I promised the guys I’d work on adding pictures of their newer work to their socials.
Sitting back at my desk, I look around at the guys all in various stages of work. Rhett and Seth are hunched over a tablet, and Kash is with a client.
Atlas sits off to the side by himself, focused on the screen in front of him.
A stray piece of brown hair has fallen and is resting on his forehead.
The urge to brush it away is strong, but then his eyes meet mine, and a large smile forms on his face.
He looks so handsome when he smiles. He’s handsome either way, but when he smiles and it’s directed at me, it gives me butterflies.
He mouths the words, Hi, pretty girl, followed with a smirk before returning his attention to his device. It’s crazy, but I think I’m falling for him already. I’ve known Matt for over a year, and although I knew he was into me, I never had any feelings toward him.
I’ve known Atlas for a fraction of that, and already I’m wondering why it feels so right.
I admire the way the sleeves of his dark Henley are pushed up.
He’s not overly muscular, but his arms are defined, and the vines that wrap around them are more pronounced by the veins in his arms. Just when I think he can’t get any more attractive, he pulls a ball cap from behind his station and puts it on his head.
Tucking the front of his hair under it, I almost combust when he spins it backward. There’s something dangerous about a backwards cap on a man like Atlas. When he catches me staring at him, he gives me a knowing smirk and wink.
“Hey! Only assholes wink!” Rhett shouts from across the room. Kash and his client laugh when Atlas gives him the finger, going back to his work.
Feeling someone’s eyes on me, I see Seth watching me with a thoughtful expression on his face. He doesn’t talk as much as the other guys, but he’s always been friendly. He nods, and I decide I’ve gawked enough at everyone for the night. Time to get to work.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur. I get most of the new albums uploaded, and the guys are all set for tomorrow until I come in. Heading back to grab my things, I find Atlas and Noah sitting at a table.
Trying to be quiet, I stand in the doorway and watch them. There are papers and pencils of all types, in various colors and shades, scattered all over the table. They’re concentrating on the paper in front of them, like they’ve been working on a project.
“If you use this yellow here, it’ll show a bit lighter over the white, then we can blend it in here.”
“Can I ask you something?” Noah asks, and Atlas nods. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing. The pair are so focused they don’t realize I’m there.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Do you like Cora? Is she your girlfriend?”
He’s quiet for a moment, then answers, “I like her a lot. What would you think if I said yes? I like being around you guys.”
Noah shrugs. “You seem okay.”
Laughing, Atlas smiles at him. “That seems like high praise; I’ll take it.”
“Hey, Atlas.”
“Hey, Noah.”
“Why do you call Cora Firefly?”
I note the way he briefly freezes. Remembering he didn’t really give me an answer, I decide to not let my presence known yet. I’m also curious.
“Do you remember when I spent the night when Cora was sick?” Noah drops his pencils and gives Atlas his full attention.
“Yeah, when you slept with the TV on. Cora hates that.”
“I’ll remember that.” Atlas smiles. I adjust my stance to lean on the door, but Atlas must catch the movement because his gaze briefly meets mine, then he quickly gives Noah his attention again.
“Well, I call her Firefly because that night I learned that female fireflies have a special light. They blink it a certain way so that it alerts other fireflies that she’s there, but not all fireflies go to it. ”
“They don’t?”
“Nope. Only the ones who are pulled to it do, and well, Cora is that light for me.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“You asked, and I explained. Maybe you’ll understand it when you’re a little older.”
“Doubt it.” Noah shrugs.
“Hey, guys,” I cut in. Noah’s eyes snap to mine, and he offers a little wave. “It’s time to close up. You want to grab your stuff, Noah?”
“Already did.” He points to his bag on the couch he was occupying earlier.
“Okay, well, I’m ready when you are.”
Atlas gathers the pencils and tucks the papers they were working on into a notebook. “We’ll look at these tomorrow,” he promises Noah.
Grabbing their coats, we head out and say bye to the others. I catch Seth’s eye on my way out and stop.
“You good, Seth?”
He glances at Atlas and nods. “Yep. I’m perfect, Cora. Have a good night.”
Heading out to the car, I listen to Atlas and Noah chatter about different kinds of art supplies.
I’m grateful for the distraction because my head is spinning.
Is what Atlas said true? Is that why he calls me Firefly?
It’s a good thing that he’s driving us home because we need to have a talk when Noah goes to bed.
Trying to calm my nerves, I buckle myself in and brace for the discussion I don’t think I’m ready for but need to have.