Bus stops day 3

Nora paced back and forth in her bedroom. Back and forth.
He is going to call you/No he's not/He is going to call you/No he's not.

She stopped pacing; pacing was only really satisfying if you can stomp loudly. Her room was above her parents and her brother's room, and so if she indulged in some stomping someone would ask what she was stomping about. Which she really didn't want.

She sat on her bed for a few minutes, glaring at the phone. Ring, phone, ring! Come, on Chris, ring! Nothing. Jedi mind tricks don't work when you aren't Jedi.

She lay on top of her bed, and picked up a book- Jane Eyre. Nora had read the book so often that she could open it at any place and pick up the storyline. In fact, she hated the beginning third. Nora couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for little orphan Jane, so she didn't read that part, ever. Her mother had told her not to read it, the first time. About the 10th time, she felt ought to read it, so that she could say that she had read it.

She started reading, but she wasn't really paying attention. If he doesn't ring me, she told herself, I don't care. It doesn't really matter.

Nora knew it was a lie to herself, but it made her feel better about having to wait.

~~~

At 10:27 Nora put down her book and clicked off her lamp. A cold rock had formed in her stomach, and some of the joy of the afternoon had melted away. Well, to be honest, all of it. She lay awake for at least an hour more, a part of her listening for the ring of the phone, the other half cursing her for her stupidity and gullibility. She lay awake, the sides in conflict, the feeling of humiliation gnawing at her insides.

~~~

Nora hadn't had a good day. She had slept badly, and spent all day dreading the 3:20 bell. At last it came.

She slowly packed up her books, and was the last to leave the class. She slowly walked through the coridoors, procrastinating arriving. She had a dreadful twisting feeling in her gut- nerves.

She walked slowly to the bus stop and waited, staring at the ground. If he came past, he could decide to talk to her. Or ignore her again, depending on how things would be.

Chris lay on his bed, feeling like an idiot. Why hadn't he written the number down? He became increasingly annoyed that he was stupid enough to forget. He'd had his cellphone in his pocket, even! Why had he not put the number in as soon as she told him?

He sat up on his bed, and stared around the room. It was pointless. He wasn't going to remember. He'd just better hope that on Monday she accepted his excuse. It was such a horrible excuse too. He went over it in his head. "Sorry Nora, I forgot your number on Friday night. I was going to call you, honestly." Awful. Sadly it was the best he had.

_________________________________________________

Monday arrived after an uneventful weekend. School was as boring as ever, but seemed to go slower on this particular day. 3:20 arrived at last, and he put away his things and walked outside, heading for the bus stops. He spied Nora walking slowly, head down, towards her stop. He ran to catch up with her. he was a couple of metres away when she heard him, and stopped walking. She turned to face him. Time to say something.

"Nora, I'm really sorry I didn't ring, I forgot your number completely. I really wanted to call you."

He didn't really have anything else to say in his defense. He just hoped she'd accept his apology.

She heard Chris behind her, and turned around. He stopped short in front of her. Her stomach twisted.

"Nora, I'm really sorry I didn't ring, I forgot your number completely. I really wanted to call you."

Nora watched him, trying to tell if he was sincere or not. She couldn't tell, and didn't know if her judgement was really reliable. If she had been off the first time, and he was being horrible, her judgement was just as likely to be off now. But if she had interpreted right the first time, then she would be now. Nora really had no way of knowing.

She smiled reflexively, the kind of smile you give to the camera in family photo's, the kind of smile you give to strangers to prove that you are a nice girl.

She didn't know if she accepted what he said. He may or may not have been lacking in effort- it was hard to tell. It al depended on her judgement, and, after spending two days berating herself for poor perception and judgement skills, she was in no position at all to rely on herself.

" That is fine." she answered brightly, disguising the confusion and inner turmoil. The smile held place.

" I'm just off to my bus stop." She started walking in the same direction and Chris matched her pace.

" How was your weekend?" she asked lightly in a conversational tone, learnt from her mother. It was a dull question, she knew, and the tone was false, but it was better than silence.

Chris walked along with Nora. He could tell she hadn't really accepted his apology, but what could he do?

"To tell the truth, my weekend was awful. I hardly got anything done. I'm lazy at the best of times. I didn't even go out on Friday night. Spent it at home. How was your weekend? More productive than mine, I hope?"

It was just idle conversation. What else was there? Life is awkward at the best of times.

David Tiberius Frost stood near the fence, trying to relate the taste of Portia Fraser's tongue to anything else. Eventually the closest thing he could think of might be a warm, moist trout, cut into filets and garnished with strawberry bubblegum. He found the thought rather amusing.

But hell, it could've been a lot worse. At least she had rich parents.

Sharp nails tightened on his waist. He seemed to remember picking up the tall, leggy blonde girl at a party somewhere... but thinking about it now he wasn't really sure that party had happened, or if he had been there. Or what he had drunk...

Getting sidetracked, Frost opened an eye slightly to survey the surrounding crowds. Portia was too preoccupied with his top lip to notice.

He spied a guy who seemed vaguely familiar, though he couldn't put a name to the face. For some reason he associated him with the colour orange. Perhaps he had seen the guy in an orange shirt or something. Yet another mystery.

As he watched, some shortish chick came up and started chatting to the Orange Boy. She seemed somewhat familiar too. It looked like she didn't know whether to run away and cry or slap him in the face and yell. Frost smiled, but someone else's tongue got in the way.. ah damnit...

He licked Portia's lips, and pulled away.
"Do you want a ride home, Love?" he asked.

<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ November 08, 2003 05:14 AM: Message edited by: Tiberius Frost. ]</font>

" My parents were away for the weekend, visiting some clients somewhere. Portia was in charge of the house, so I tried to restrict my movements to my bedroom- a little study, and not much else." Nora breathed.
" Portia is absolutely intolerable when she is in control. Bossy at the best of times, when Father is around to moderate her. An absolute tyrant when there is no one to see her do it except Sean and I." She smiled grimly, and noticed Portia standing nearby, a princess surrounded by courtiers. Terrible and cold, Portia never lacked in friends. Portia noticed her glance, and smiled. She broke herself off from the group gently, and came to talk to Nora and Chris. She drew Nora aside, and talked quietly in her ear.
" I'm not going on the bus today- one of my friends-" she giggled "- is giving me a ride home. If you get home before me, tell Mother that I am studying at the library, okay?" Nora nodded reluctantly. " Sure."

Portia ascended again to her cloud of friends.

" Sorry about that- Portia wants me to cover for her. What were we talking about, sorry?"

Ask her. What have you got to lose? You'll just end up talking about crap again if you leave it.

Might as well.

Chris turned to Nora.
"Would you like me to give you a lift home? My car's at my place again, but it's a short walk. Saving you from a bus ride is the least I can do to make up for forgetting your phone number on Friday"

Please say yes...

Nora blushed and looked down.
" I would love to." she said nervously. Nervously, apprehensively, confusedly, happily, worridly, shyly. All words which sprung to mind. Nora's mind worked in odd ways. She would have to call her mother, and tell Portia that she couldn't cover for her.

" I will have to phone my mother- she gets worried if she doesn't know where we are. " she smiled. She got a vague feeling that changing the plans spontaenously like this was a bad idea. Spontaenity was a thing that her parents frowned upon- it showed a lack of adequate foreplanning, and left everyone else not knowing what was happening. It was a most inconsiderate thing, her parents believed. Nora pushed the feeling of guilt beneath the surface.

" Where do you live?" She asked

Chris was now more cheerful. Something was finally going his way. Then again, he was slightly nervous, noticing how rich she was. Well, he assumed she was rich. Her sister was hanging out with the people who only hung out with the insanely rich people, and her father worked at a bank (He'd checked his phone to see what number she'd called to get him), which made it more likely.

"I live down Lakeview Road" (Which was a strange name, really. There were no lakes to view at all down the road. It always puzzled him). "It's about a 10 minute walk - But you already know that. You can give your mother a call from my place if you want to."

He'd almost forgotten that he'd offered her a lift home once before. Of course, that hadn't gone too well. He hoped it'd be slightly different this time. For one thing, he didn't have his cellphone with him today.

David hated driving. It was one of those things that should have been done for you. Why in the hell would you put effort into travelling when you could sit in the back drinking wine?

But hell, sometimes you just had to do these things.
Or so his Grandfather had taught him.

Beside him, Portia fiddled with her jewellery, as girls tended to do. Especially when they seemed to be wearing more rings, bracelets, and earrings than they were clothes. She seemed thrilled by it all. What, she'd never had a rich guy dive her around in a sports car before? Frost's mind wandered. Sports were another thing that should be done for you...

"Which way am I going, babe?" he asked her, even though he already knew where she lived. He knew where anyone of any importance lived, but assumed that if she didn't already know that it was probably better that she didn't learn it now.

"Turn left up here." she replied in her chirpy, high-pitched voice. She had an innate ability to change her tone of voice in an instant. He'd seen her talk to her little sister before.

And "left" he knew was not the direction to her house. Where the hell was she taking him? He had a tendency not to trust anybody, even if he thought they were ditzy blondes not really capable of all that much.

'To hell with it', he figured. 'I could use a surprise.'

So he turned left.

<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ November 09, 2003 09:45 PM: Message edited by: Tiberius Frost. ]</font>

" Great- thankyou." She said, and then continued to walk silently. Unlike everyone else in her family, she was not a great conversationalist in any circumstance.

They walked in almost complete silence. It was absolutely nerve-wracking. What to say? He tried several times to start conversation, as did she. Neither seemed to get more than one-word answers out of the other.

Was this really a good idea? I mean, how many times have you tried to talk to her?

She's obviously not too thrilled with the prospect of going to a strange guy's house.

You should have just apologised and left.

Bad idea, Chris.

You're going to regret this...

Chris pushed these thoughts out of his head. He'd made an alright choice. Plus, she was trying to make conversation too. They were probably both feeling the same way.

A couple of streets later and they were at his house. The front door was locked.

"Mum must be working late tonight. She does every now and again."

He used his spare key to unlock the door, and walked inside, holding the door open for Nora.

Nora followed Chris as they turned in his driveway. It was a nice house, in a nice street. The driveway dominated the right side on the housefront, leading to a single garage with a green automatic door. A flat, well kept lawn swept across the left and continued, she assumed, around the back of the house. A few trees were planted around the fencelines.

Nora waited while Chris unlocked the front door, and then followed him in. At first glance, it was a work of housekeeping that her mother would have been proud of.

Thankfully, Chris had had a party on Saturday night, meaning the house was spotless. The trade-off for having people drinking and messing up the house was having to clean it to a state where even the fussiest rich people could eat off the floor. So Sunday had been a lot of hard work on his part, but he felt good about it.

She followed him as he walked through to the kitchen. He got a couple of glasses out of a cupboard.

"Would you like a drink?"

He opened the fridge door, unsure as to what exactly was available.

"There's orange juice, coke, sprite, and water."

They didn't usually have soft drinks, they were probably leftover from the weekend. Not that that fact was terribly important to anyone.

" Tap water, thankyou." She didn't like cold water because it hurt her teeth. He poured her a glass of water, and then poured his own drink. As he did so, Nora searched for something to say.

His mother might be working late.

" What do your parents do for a living? " she asked, genuinely interested. She never could tell like her mother could.

David Frost walked into the hotel room on the 12th floor, and glanced around. It wasn't really that great a room, by the standards he was used to.
Attached to it was a gleaming bathroom, which looked like nobody had ever used it, and a large set of french doors opening onto some kind of balcony.
A massive bed dominated the floor, but he'd long since given up on calculating bed sizes, since he virtually never slept in anything below king anyway.

Portia locked the door behind him. He turned and she grinned mischeviously at him with her pink glazed lips. Frost wondered whether to pretend he didn't know where this was going.
How much had she spent on a room like this? He could determine something about her character if he knew how much trouble she'd go to for an escapade like this...

He pushed her against the wall, and kissed her.
'Damn', he thought, 'How did I forget to check the time?'

"Both my parents are Lawyers. Not the interesting kind though. It's commercial law. Still, good jobs. They work at the Webster-Mcleod offices."

He felt obliged to explain his mother's lateness.

"There's a merger going on between a couple of software companies, it's been causing a lot of problems apparently. They were late home most nights last week. I've kinda got to fend for myself some evenings. Doesn't bother me too much, I can cook well enough to get a decent dinner every night. Speaking of which, are you hungry?"

" No, thankyou," Nora answered. Law and medicine, she had heard it said, were two honorable professions.
" I'm not really hungry." Nora was, in truth, a little hungry, but a notoriously picky eater, and tried just not to eat in company. It saved the embarassment of appearing- well, picky- about the food served. She couldn't bring herself to just eat food, so she avoided it.
" Mother doesn't like it when we eat between meals."

She glanced at her watch. 3:56:21. The bus would have arrived at the center-city stop by now.

" I hate to bring it up," she mumbled, a little hesitantly, because she was imposing on his charity, and it was bad manners to then appear ungrateful. " but Mother doesn't like us to be home late- she is quite- protective- I suppose you could say." she blushed.

He probably couldn't even understand what she was trying to say. Then she would have to repeat it, and go through the embarassment all over again. Or he might take it the wrong way- so soon after telling her what his parents did for a living, he might think that she thought that law was a lowly trade profession, unworthy of her association. Nora was a nervous person.

Chris had forgotten why he'd invited her to his house in the first place. He supposed he should get her home.

"Ah, ok. Yes, you should probably get home before your mother decides to call the police. Would you like me to take you home, or do you want to call someone to pick you up?"

She seemed a bit scared of her mother. "Protective" was probably an understatement.

<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ December 17, 2003 03:39 AM: Message edited by: Chris Wesley ]</font>

" Either or. I could call my fathers secretary..."

She left the sentence open. Not in an obvious way, of course. He had offered to take her home, and she really couldn't think of anything she would dislike more than another ride home with Cathy!, her fathers secretary. If he offered to give her a ride home, Nora would accept gladly. But she wasn't about to ask.

Chris wasn't sure what she was implying. But considering it more seemed stupid. She had given him the choice.

"I'll give you a lift home. Where do you live?"

Nora smiled. " Mayfair Park."

David Frost glanced at his watch. It was 9:41 and 38 seconds. He was bored. But he was also tired and couldn't be bothered getting up.
He couldn't think either, perhaps it was time he got some proper sleep. Dammit, though, he would have to drive home. And he still had to get rid of...

Frost glanced over at Portia Fraser, laid on her side next to him. Her right hand was propped up on her hip, the other under her head, scarlet fingernails tangled in her long blonde hair. Pink lips pouted at him, her black-lined eyes gazed half closed.
Her pale, porcelain skin, completely waxed, was concealed beneath a light satin sheet, so thin it could almost be seen through, which cleanly outlined the naked curves rolling hips and tight waist. Her smooth thighs ran down into long, thin, legs, crossed over at the knees.
Her firm, round breasts lay exposed, treaures so rare that many men would give various body parts just for a glimpse. Portia's voluptuous bosom pointed tirelessly upward, sharp, pink nipples standing perkily, glistening a little with moisture in the dim light.
She licked her lips with a soft, wet tongue, and smiled softly.

If only he had a camera, thought Frost. Well, maybe he could just sleep here. He smiled back at Portia.

"Ok, that's cool"

Chris knew where Mayfair park was, a couple of Clarke's friends lived down there. It was a way out of town, but the drive was good.

Nora followed him out of the front door. He locked it behind him, and used the remote he had taken off the kitchen bench to open the garage. The car was in god condition, in need of a wash, but otherwise fine. The interior was clean at least. He wasn't overly fussy, he just liked a clean car (although he was used to friends messing it up).

He unlocked the doors, and held the passenger door open for Nora. Then he got in, and they drove off.

Mayfair park was about a 20 minute drive away, Traffic permitting. Chris figured he should find something to say, or it would be a rather boring trip.

Nora sat down, and Chris started the car. They were away.
After a few minutes of silence, Nora began to desparately search her mind for something to say. There had to be something, she reasoned. Two people who have had only limited contact couldn't run out of conversation that quickly.
They were both human beings and had grown up in the same cultural environment. Therefore they must share some common interest.
A few minutes more passed. Perhaps they weren't both human beings who had grown up in the same cultural environment.
" So- you have lived here all your life?" she ventured.
It was the kind of question asked that could lead one of three ways- they could both end up on tangents, randomly reciting parts of their pasts, neither of them actually listening to the other. They could take turns at life-story narratives, guarenteed to be tedious and filled with details and names that only interested the narrator. Or halfway through they could get sidetracked by something else. Nora didn't really care. Anything was preferable to the silence.

Conversation was pretty dull, but then again, Chris wasn't exactly a natural at it. He had confidence in some areas, but in others he wasn't so good. Universally interesting conversation was one of them. He could talk for hours about cars, computers or music, but other topics were a bit more difficult, and just seemed to trail off. He gave it his best shot though.

"Yup. Same house and everything. Pretty boring, I know. I know most of the people in town. All the important ones, at least. Or, I like to think I do. There always ends up being someone new, though. What about you?"

He stopped at a red light, and a familiar white Skyline pulled up next to him, engine growling. Chris lowered his window, and Clarke did the same.
Chris spoke first. "Hey man, hows things?"

"Oh, Not too bad, not too bad. And yourself?"

"Pretty good, same old. Just takin Nora home."

"Oh, right. This the one you were talkin about at the party, is it? The chick you said you were screwing?"

The light went green, and Clarke sped off, grinning to himself. Chris moved off slowly. Nora glared at him.
Clarke's comment was a lie, of course. He never could resist a joke, but this time Chris thought he was taking it a bit too far. Not knowing what to say, he waited for Nora to comment.

Nora wasn't sure at all. How to react? She didn't think that Chris was like that. But the boy had just said that he was.

" Who was that?" she asked, giving Chris a chance to explain himself. Of course, he would deny ever having said anything like that. But still, an explanation might help.

Nora hadn't reacted the way Chris had expected, and for that he was very thankful. Still, an explanation was needed.

"That's my friend Clarke. He's a pretty cool guy, just a bit of a stirrer. I was talking to him on Saturday night, I mentioned that I'd lost your number. Guess he elaborated on it a bit. I wouldn't trust much of what he says, though."

He hoped that was a good enough explanation, but if she didn't believe him, and kept asking questions, he could be in trouble.