Senior Year Memories Ch. 29

I sighed. I didn't want to have to explain to her that a threesome with two of the hottest girls in school actually wasn't that new a thing to me, but since she wasn't being too much of a pain, I wanted to let her down easily. "It sounds really good... but I made a promise. I gotta be there."

"I understand... I think. I understand," Brianna said, her voice a little downtrodden. She didn't strike me as a girl who was used to hearing no a lot when it came to guys, but instead of getting angry, she just sounded slightly sad. Given her twin's attitude and her school social status, I thought she'd have been a major league bitch about a rejection like this, so this threw me off.

"Another time?" I suggested.

"Sure," she said, even though the way she sounded it seemed she thought I was brushing her off.

"I mean it," I said. "I'm really busy today. But if you want to, hang out or whatever, sometime, that sounds like it could be a lot of fun."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure," I said.

"Positive?" she asked.

This could go on for a while. "Brianna, I-"

"Sorry, I'm not trying to be weird about this or anything, it's just... I wanted to hit you up back in September, but then I got with Miles, and I wanted to get with you again after I broke up with him, but then Lars came around, and then Steve and Rick and... I've been in a bad cycle of lousy boys this year that I can't seem to shake and was really hoping to spend some time with a guy who could treat me good and was fun to be with. Kaitlyn says you're really both, and I was hoping to find out soon before I fall for some other dickhead and keep putting you off," Brianna said.

That was a level of honesty I hadn't expected from her. I didn't want to question her taste in guys because she was clearly already beating herself up about it and I didn't want to pile on, but if there was anything that could make me reconsider a promise it was the simple honesty she opened up to me with. This was a girl who wasn't used to asking for help asking for help, and I might've been one of the best people to provide it. I couldn't turn back on my promise to Nica, but this was as close as I could've gotten.

"Get my number from Kaitlyn and text me so I can get you in my phone. I'll let you know when I'm available, and we can do whatever you want. You want to fool around, cool. You want to just talk to a stranger about anything, I'm good too," I said.

"You mean it?" Brianna asked.

"I do," I said.

We'd made it to the Puma Press offices. Brianna looked at me gratefully, then pulled me in to place a quick peck on my cheek. With a surprising amount of nervousness for a girl this popular, she smiled at me, giggled, and jogged off in the direction of the athletic field.

I shook my head, laughing to myself. This had been a weird, busy back to school week, and fun as it was, I was looking forward to it being over with.

The door to the Puma Press offices swung open, a figure darting out looking to begin their own Friday.

"Ryan," she said, nodding politely.

"Tori," I replied, returning the nod.

I grabbed the door as it swung shut behind her and slinked inside of the Puma Press office, hoping that Nica wasn't too mad with me.

***

"You still smell," 18-year-old Nica Dubois said. I'd just stepped out of the Puma Press office's old dark room, dressed again in my street clothes and after hastily washing myself in a sink.

"Yeah, well, until they install a shower in the dark room, I did the best I could," I said, walking into the main cramped office that only Nica and I shared. The Puma Press' dark room was a relic from when our school had a thriving photography department. With most gone over to digital these days, only half the dark room was used for developing film by those with retro sensibilities (like Josie), while the other half had been converted into a break room of sorts with a couch and games, a place for people to relax or fool around or do whatever you wanted so long as you didn't mind the room's red lights.

"Well, the best you could means you still smell. But you don't smell so bad as you used to, so, it is an improvement," she said, the faint remnants of her French-Canadian accent giving her voice a little extra taste of sass.

"Thanks," I replied, shaking my head slightly. Though slender and shorter than me, Nica had a sarcastic streak that could probably knock guys bigger than Peter to the floor. She was one of the only people I'd seen with sass enough to stop Nadia in her tracks, and though it was usually fun to listen to, today it was just one more thing to deal with.

"Thanks? That's it? What happened to your banter? You're always good for talk, talk, talk, joke with me, joke with everyone else, use your penis to open a girl's pants, and kaboom! And today it's just... thanks?" Nica asked, trying to get a rise out of me with a dirty joke.

I looked at her, truly trying to take the girl in to see if she was someone I wanted to talk to. Her short cut, brown hair framed a lively, intelligent face that rested more on the side of cute than gorgeous, with soft-looking lips curled into a slight smile and sparkling brown eyes. She dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, covering for the afternoon chill with a light zip-up sweatshirt. Everything about her felt approachable, but still it felt safest to keep this at arm's length for now.

"I've... I've just had a long week," I replied.

"Ah, haven't we all! Most of my teachers look like ladies whose minds are far from school, Nadia's out sick from school and left this work in my talented lap (whilst micromanaging from afar, I might add), and I nearly got crushed by Amy Temple jumping off the roof..." Nica bemoaned.

"What?" I asked.

"Amy Temple? The blonde from drama club? Wishes to be a stuntwoman? She was practicing parkour jumps and rolling, not looking where she fell. I got a nice interview escorting her to the nurse's office though, sweet girl, very intense, though. Seeing her pop her shoulder back into place against a lunch table is something I could've gone my life without seeing," Nica said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "All this stuff, girls, girls, girls; aren't there any other boys at this school? It seems all I do is see you and one or two others, the rest, beautiful girls!"

I laughed. "I've heard speculation on that, but I couldn't tell you an answer."

"Ah, yes, the old fable of 'something in the water at Regan Hills'? I should truly assign one of our more scientifically inclined writers to investigate," she said.

"There's probably a story in there, somewhere," I said.

"Perhaps there is, perhaps there isn't, but it would be fun finding out, no?" Nica asked.

"Perhaps," I agreed, shrugging half-heartedly.

Nica walked over to a desk with one of the new computers, beckoning me to follow her. "Again, with the apathy! You've typically a zest for life that most would envy! Not the only thing of you that most would envy from what I'm told, but that's neither here nor there. But every day you come in this week, there's a little less of you here. Soon there will be nothing at all, and I don't think we can afford to lose another writer, not if we want to win any of those awards that Nadia will kill us if we don't win."

I sighed, pushing my glasses up to my forehead and rubbing my eyes as I took a seat next to her. If it was this obvious to Nica, a girl I'd only spent some professional time with in the Puma Press offices, it had to be obvious to everyone else as well.

"Okay... fine. I'm a little stressed, okay?" I asked.

"A *little* stressed?" Nica repeated, skeptical.

"Okay... a *lot* stressed," I said. "I was running myself ragged all December, and then the holidays themselves were a marathon, and I've accepted a lot of responsibilities around here this year that I didn't expect to stack up like they have, and I really miss Josie and just want her to come back and..."

Wow, that felt pretty good to get off my chest. It didn't change that all of that stuff was there, but it helped to acknowledge that it existed. Nica looked at me with understanding, but didn't say anything.

"I guess... I've been having a lot of fun this year, but all that fun's come with a lot of changes and things pulling me in every direction at once. I've so many more duties, and people wanting so many more things from me, needing me to be one person or another when I still don't even know who I am half the time. I wouldn't turn my back on any of these changes, but they can weigh me down sometimes. I'm having kind of a hard time standing, I guess," I said.

"Duties and obligations have a way of doing that," Nica replied.

"You sound like you say that from experience," I said.

"Eh," she said, cocking her head from side to side uncertainly. "We've all our share of weights to bear, of factors in life that mean to pull us in many different directions at once, and there are times where we all feel like we're ready to fall to them. It's how we handle these things that defines us. That's what I think, anyway."

I was game for anything at this point to help, so I asked, "How do you handle them?"

Nica laughed. "Badly, much of the time. For advice, I can be a bad guide. A bad guide who means well, but a bad guide all the same."

"That doesn't help," I muttered.

"I never said it would," Nica replied. "But... okay, if it is an option, I try to remove as many stressors from my life as I can. Lighten the weight, to continue off of your metaphor."

That sounded like a good idea, but not the easiest one to pull off. I'd already promised myself to tutoring and the Puma Press, and with the homework load only promising to increase as the year went on, and my difficult to predict social calendar, it didn't seem like there was any end in sight.

"Easier said than done," I said. My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out to look the quick string of texts.

Unknown: Hey its Brianna

Unknown: Kaitlyn gave me your number

Unknown: so you can program me in

Unknown: Thanx for talking

Unknown: hope we can meet soon sometime

Quickly, I programmed her into my phone so she'd show up as something more than Unknown.

"Sorry," I said.

"Oh, don't be," Nica replied. She looked at the computer screen she meant for us to work on, then back to me. "You know... these interviews and articles you wrote, they're textually fine. At this point they only truly need one more pass for grammar and spelling and formatting for print. If you wish to leave, and promise me that you'll take the opportunity to de-stress, I'll cover for you on the rest of the work. I won't even take more than fifteen to twenty percent of the credit when Nadia asks me how they went."

"Yeah?" I asked. Images of heading out for the night, getting the chance to enjoy Friday danced before my eyes. Nica would cover for me, I'd get to relax, maybe even see if Kaitlyn and Brianna weren't too occupied already. It was still pretty early, I could have probably gotten a ride from them, followed by something much more fun. Maybe I could even bring a smile to Brianna's face to make up for how terse I was with her earlier.

Then I looked back at Nica. The offer she'd made me was one made out of a place of great kindness, and it was a kindness I couldn't just push to the side as easily as she'd offered.

I took a deep breath. "No. I'll stay. Let's finish formatting together, finish the work in half the time, see if we can salvage a Friday for both of us."

She raised an eyebrow at me, surprised. "Are you sure? I imagine whoever was texting you there will be most disappointed if you don't show."

"Maybe, but, I'll manage," I said.

"Very well," she replied. "I believe we've an hour, perhaps two, of work in front of us if we start soon. I was thinking, perhaps, of ordering a pizza?"

"Mr. Hopkins won't pitch a fit?" I asked.

"Nah, he's out, and if we don't leave a mess, he'll permit most anything. It's my treat? Call it 'thank you for sacrificing a Friday so Nica doesn't get chewed out by Nadia' if it makes you feel better?" Nica suggested.

With how light my wallet was lately, that sounded perfect. "Deal."

"Good. Let's get this party started," she said.

***

Between the music, the pizza, and the company, you'd have thought we might have actually gotten a party going. The work went by so quickly it hardly felt like work, and with someone as charming as Nica Dubois to pass the time with, I could've been having a much worse Friday than I was.

"So... that actually was you?" she asked.

I nodded. "Not one of my prouder moments, but it got the job done."

Nica laughed. "Kyle Bowman getting escorted from Homecoming with a face full of cum was one of the singular highlights of high school for me. In case you haven't heard that enough from everyone else... thank you, for that."

"You're welcome," I said, finishing off some formatting that finally felt like I was getting somewhere. "Like I said, it's not one of my prouder moments. And it was really more of a group thing, I had help pulling it off. And..."

I let the word hang, not sure if I wanted to go any further. Nica, though, wouldn't let the word hang.

"And what?" she asked.

"It's nothing," I said, shaking my head.

"No, it's definitely something. Almost always when someone says 'it's nothing' as you just did, it is something, so you have definitely piqued my interest," Nica replied.

She had me there. "I was just gonna say, you didn't really strike me as the homecoming type."

"I would say the same for you, at first glance," she said.

"Point," I replied.

"Seeing as we don't know each other terribly well, I would assume misunderstandings such as that would be quite easy to come across," she said.

"They would be," I said.

"This isn't to say I know nothing of you. There is talk, as you know," she said.

"I do," I replied, smiling a little nervously.

"It is almost as much legend as it is gossip, but a boy such as you only comes along once in a blue moon, so... I hear things," she said.

"Good things?" I asked.

"Very," she said confidently.

"This would be a bad time to admit that I don't know much of anything about you, wouldn't it?" I said.

"Eh," she said, cocking her head from side to side again. "If we were in a romance, perhaps, but we are not in a romance, so it isn't as bad as it might be. I'm quite glad to hear this, honestly, that you know little of me. I try to keep my privacy, and if you've heard little, it means I'm succeeding."

"If you're keeping private these days, that's impressive," I said.

She scowled. "I have little patience for social media, and have done all I can to avoid it. It's not the frivolity, to speak of, that turns me away, but the people. The ease with which stupidity and lies spread is appalling. When hatred and intolerance are not stamped out as fires should be, but given fuel... when toxic ideologies infect and rot until stupidity is not just embraced but exalted, rewarded with the highest echelons of power..."

"...and you joined the school paper to get away from that?" I asked. I wasn't trying to be rude with the question, but the juxtaposition of what she'd just said and where I met her did strike me a bit odd.

Nica briefly looked at me as if surprised, clearly catching herself in the middle of a speech she didn't fully mean to get into here. "Oh, uh, not really. While I choose to limit my exposure to the assholes of the world, I also believe in the power and necessity of a free and responsible press and wish to do all I can to contribute to a better class of discourse than we have these days."

I admired her principles, even if I knew I couldn't throw myself willingly into that much torment.

"Must be tough not going crazy from it, sometimes," I said.

"I cope how I can. I remove what stressors I can so I can better cope with those I've chosen to face, and for those, I've my own ways of dealing," she said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied, cryptically.

"Oh, come on, you start like that, you know I've gotta ask what you do," I said.

Nica rolled her eyes at me. "This is true, but it doesn't mean I must answer."

The response was playful, encouraging me to ask one more time. "Please? You've got me curious, and if you force me to, I'll ask *really* nicely."

She sighed. "Heaven forbid that happens."

Nica's lips broke into a sly smile, then she said, "Fine, if it will keep you from asking *really* nicely... when I stress, I work on my novel. There, does that make you happier to know?"

I sat there for a good moment trying to figure out whether or not she was messing with me, but when I decided she wasn't, I said, "You're writing a novel?"

"And now that I've opened the door, this will never be the end of it," she said, sighing.

"We can close the door if you want, but you got me curious," I said. I hoped she didn't want to close the door; I didn't know anyone who'd actually tried this beyond some fanfic, and it was interesting to me.

"Okay, ask the obligatory first wave of questions," she replied.

"So... what are you writing?" I asked.

"It's a work in progress, and I'm not entirely sure what it will be. But it is a drama, a coming of age story. I have no working title yet, but that doesn't mean I will never find one," she replied.

"And what's it about?" I asked, quickly scrolling up and down my screen to verify that I'd finished what I meant to do and finding, quite happily, that I had.

"A girl trying to find herself, dealing with trauma from a man whom she'd trusted and how to move on from there. Discovering herself, trying to figure out what she wants from life. It is based on some true stories from people I know, and some embellishments to make it work as a story. It's not a fun read... but I think it might be good. Truly depressing stuff, I know," she said, defensive and nervous.

"Yeah, but whoever said depressing was a bad thing? I mean, unless you're writing a children's book-"

"-I'm not writing a children's book-" Nica interrupted, laughing.

"-then you can write whatever you want," I finished.

"I'm glad you think that way. Now I just hope it will find its audience. An agent and publisher would be nice, too," Nica replied.

"Wow, you're going for traditional publishing?" I asked.

"I hope. I will self-publish if I must, but I have dreams of bestseller lists in addition to having my voice heard. Selfish, I know, but I like what I write. It feels good to focus my anger and frustration into something creative instead of destructive, and, it is my comfort place. True, I am terrified of what other people will think of it, but since Josie seems to like it so far-"

This surprised me. "Josie's reading it?"

"She may not have our flair for the grammatic, but she is a sound beta reader. I hope to see her back soon," Nica said, stretching her neck with a loud pop.

"Me too," I sighed.

"Well, I can't promise she'll be here, but if you wish to talk to her soon, that freedom is yours. I have finished with my review, and you?" Nica asked.

"I have," I said.

"Good. E-mail it to me and I'll pass it along from there," she said.

"Already done," I replied, smiling.

"Magnifique," she replied, smiling at me. "Then, Ryan, you are free to go."

It was a lovely smile, and one that I almost felt bad that I meant to run out on. These past couple hours had been a lot of fun, and I was now starting to realize how much I really liked being around Nica. She was smart, driven, and had a biting sarcasm that cut through the shit that I really liked. There was something about her, a cautious vulnerability, that cut through that edge, but didn't make her any less of a person that I wanted to hang out with. After a day spent dreading this time, I was actually beginning to feel quite fortunate for it.