Short Stories

4. Sorry Nora

~*~*~*~October 13 2021~*~*~*~

This particular experience of Steve has been living rent free in my mind for quite a few weeks now. I thought I'd let it live with me permanantly by writing it down. Enjoy =)

~*~*~*~October 13 2021~*~*~*~

It was a party. And everyone was having fun and in a corner of the room, by a table, two friends were arguing.

"Steve, girls aren't going waltz to you and kiss your feet," Sam said, exasperated. "If you want them to go out with you, then ask them out. That's how the world works. You like something, you want it, you go get it."

"Easier said than done," he mumbled, downing another glass of Dragon Mead. "I don't see you asking Mike—"

"—That," she hissed, "is none of your business."

"Then Nora and I are none of your business neither," he spat.

Sam tried to inconspiciously slip the bottle of Dragon Mead out of his sight. "You asked for my help," she said coolly.

Steve, however, caught her red-handed, and snatched the bottle back.

"Steve, it's Dragon Mead. How do you know it's not made up of, you know, oil squeezed out of a dragon or something?" Sam muttered, scrunching her small nose.

"It probably is. I couldn't care less," Steve said absently as he spotted Stellainor Forrest at the far end of the room. Her hair was tied up in an elegant bun, some of the stray chocolate curls falling on her soft, soft neck...

"...and it could be made up of dragon dung, Steve. Dragon dung. Would you still drink it? Huh?"

Steve sighed. How he wished Sam was somewhere else, bothering somebody else. "If it didn't smell, and tasted good and didn't look bad, then yes."

He watched with a smug grin at her disgusted expression, mouth hanging open in a comical 'O' shape. 

But that had to wait. He had business to attend.

Pushing the chair back, he stood up and marched towards Stellainor, who was sweet enough and had asked him to call her Nora.

Nora.

A beautiful name for a gorgeous girl, really. And he'd show that gorgeous girl what a stunning, charming man this Steven Hopkins was.

She was talking to a pot bellied man passionately. Her long pale arms were waving around in smooth fluid motions. He could almost feel the softness of her skin even with the—now swiftly decreasing—distance between them.

The pot belly turned around and walked away. Steve quickly ran a finger through his raven hair and straightned his crisp midnight blue shirt and, plastering the most dazzling smile he could manage without coming off as spooky, he strode towards her, eating up the remaining distance. 

"Steven!" Nora squealed, "Oh my, I wasn't expecting you here! You don't usually attend class reunion parties, do you?"

Steve laughed. And it wasn't the laughter he had when he was with Mike, Ced and Sam. Oh no,  he reserved this one for cute girls. 

"Not usually, no. But I am here only because –" of you could never come out of his mouth. Because just then, a tall, broad shouldered guy, sporting a leather jacket, athletic look and a breathtaking smile stepped beside Nora and casually slung his arm around her shoulder.

He actually slung his arm around her. The nerve!

Steve wanted to glare at him. Say something witty. Piss off the guy. Something along those lines. But for some strange, unfathomable reason, his mouth had gone dry. His tongue felt too large. And he felt uber self-conscious.

This man, he had dark skin that reminded Steve way  too much of chocolate—dark chocolate— and equally brown eyes. Ones that were boring into Steve's eyes with high intensity.

"Oh, Eddie! There you are!"

Nora's voice shook Steve out of his reverie. She stood up on her tip toes and planted a kiss on Edmund's cheek.

 Steve felt a pang of jealousy.

"Steve, this is Edmund Mills. Eddie this is Steven Hopkins. We used to study together—in kindergarten."

They all chuckled, but Steve couldn't help but notice that Edmund was studying him, sizing him up.

Was he a worthy opponent? 

Was he worthy?

 "Hello, Steven," Edmund drawled in his deep, deep voice.

"Hey, handsome." 

Deafening silence. That was what followed the line.

 And more silence.

And even more  silence. He could literally feel Nora's eyes sharpen and zero on him, drilling holes in his temple.

"Well," Nora said icily, still glaring, "we have to go, Steven." 

Edmund didn't say anything, his eyes were glued to Steve. Quickly, Nora snatched Edmund's arm and dragged him to the opposite side of the huge room—far away from Steve. He couldn't help but think that she was taking her boyfriend away from him.

What had he said that made Nora mad at him. He had just complimented her boyfriend, had he not?

It was not a compliment said to Nora's boyfriend, Steve. It was a compliment uttered to Edmund Mills.

Right. That didn't make much of a difference, though, did it? 

Didn't it?

Sheesh, this was confusing.

Steve stared where Nora and Mills had vanished among the crowd. A crowd in which everyone was singing, drinking, dancing, and having fun in general.

"I don't know what exactly happened," Sam said from behind, making Steve jump, "but from what I saw, it was a disaster. Wasn't it, Steve?" 

Correction: Everyone was having fun in general. Except a Steven Hopkins, that is.