The Grump I Despise (When In Waverly 3)

Norah

Tuesday morning, I bounce down the stairs on my way to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee that I’ll actually get to leisurely enjoy. Normally, I have to grab it on my way out the door, and I end up splashing it all over my car or spilling it on myself as I carry it into the school.

I woke up early this morning, so I have more than enough time to drink coffee and chat with my mom before heading out for the day. I even had extra time to spend on my hair, which looks amazing today, if I do say so myself. It’s light and bouncy, and there’s not a rogue curl in sight. I don’t think I’ll give up on it and throw it in a messy bun halfway through the day like every other day.

I pause on the stairs when I hear my younger sister and mom chatting together in hushed voices. “I just don’t understand why she hasn’t told us they’re together yet,” Layla says.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure she has her reasons, and I will, for sure, let you know them when I figure them out!” Mom says, sending Layla into a fit of giggles.

So, someone’s keeping secrets. I try not to be a nosy busybody, but I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t curious. I’m a Sullivan. It’s in my blood. And being back in Waverly certainly hasn’t helped matters.

I make a show of stomping down the stairs to let them know they aren’t alone anymore, and they immediately get quiet. I turn the corner into the kitchen, and Layla has her lips bitten in between her teeth to keep herself from laughing again.

“I love that sweater, Norah. Is it new?” Mom asks in an overly friendly voice.

I rub my hands down the front of it, feeling self-conscious about getting new clothes in my financial situation. “Yeah, it was a gift,” I say.

“From whom?” Layla asks, perking up in her seat. She takes a sip of her coffee and watches me over the rim of her mug.

“Just a friend,” I say, trying to avoid whatever assumptions they’ll jump to if I reveal that Colby gifted me the sweater. Because a man getting you a sweater is not normal.

“Oh, come on, tell us who!” Mom and Layla both say.

I blow out a breath and turn to pour my coffee. This is not going to end well for me. Layla and Madeline have both been harping on me about him since I moved back. They’ll definitely get the wrong idea about this.

“It was Colby, wasn’t it?” Layla squeals happily behind me. I whirl around to face her, splashing coffee all over the floor and my foot. Her face looks triumphant, like she knows she’s right. How on earth did she figure it out? Why would Colby be the first person she guesses? I said ‘friend,’ and yesterday was the first day I’d really put us in that category.

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

“Everyone in town is talking about you two dating. I mean, you were seen leaving his house Saturday morning…”

“What?” I cut her off mid-sentence. “It was not like that, and you know it!” She knows very well how sick I was that night. She supposedly watched him carry me out of Hannah’s house. I have no recollection of it because I was so out of it. But I’m told I looked quite pitiful and sickly in his arms. He took care of me, and that’s all there was to it.

So what if I’m starting to have a lot more feelings for him? It doesn’t matter that I don’t think he’s a giant ball of arrogance anymore. That night was nothing more than a friend helping a friend. Because, at this moment in time, Colby is only a friend, and it’s a huge deal that I can even say that. I won’t have them confusing all my feelings with their implications.

“Then why did he buy you a sweater?”

“Because he washed my puke-covered sweater and felt bad that he shrunk it in his dryer!” I shout. She throws her hands up in surrender, but her face doesn’t look convinced in the least. My mom fidgets at the counter beside me, and as I watch her, my mind snaps back to something Layla said a minute before.

“Wait, you said everyone’s talking about us?” I ask, and she nods her head. “Everyone, as in the family?” I ask, knowing that it’s not the case but hopeful nonetheless. It’s Waverly, though. I don’t know why I bother hoping. She shakes her head.

“As in the whole town,” she mumbles.

“Who saw me leaving his house?” I ask. An overwhelming feeling of dread courses through my veins. I know who it was. There’s only one person who loves spreading everyone’s business all over town.

“Who do you think? Shandi Freeman, of course. She said she was out for her morning run and saw you,” Mom says.

I’m not surprised in the least, but still, hearing it makes my blood boil. I’m so mad that I can hear my pulse pounding behind my ears, and my eye gets a little twitchy.

“I’m going to strangle that woman!” I shout.

“Norah, everyone knows what she’s like. I doubt anyone believes anything she’s said,” my mom says to calm me down. It doesn’t work.

“Mom, even you believed it,” I say. She scrunches her face up, looking excessively guilty. She should feel guilty. My own mother should know better than to think I would suddenly jump into a relationship with a man I’ve professed to hate.

It’s mortifying that everyone in town has been gossiping about my love life for two whole days, as wrong and fake as it may be. Someone has to stop that woman.

As soon as I walk into the school, it’s abundantly clear that all the students have heard the rumors about me and Colby. The stares, whispers, and giggles as I pass are a dead giveaway—and the fact that they don’t try very hard to keep me from overhearing them when they talk about us.