Ptolemy

Chalk dotted in a Morris code as the teacher wrote notes on the blackboard. Farley's copy of braille sat idly in front of him it was the last class of the day and he was nearly defeated. All day he had tried not to think about Avery, yet whenever he slipped he ended up beating himself up like he had earlier on the bus. It was draining and he hadn't had a stopper all day.

"That doesn't even make sense." Nora mumbled next to Farley.

"Are you still trying to pay attention?" He tilted his head at her and crossed his arms over his chest. Nora laughed a few times, then tapped her pencil, still not writing any notes. Farley knew she was determined to keep her focus and he also knew that she would only try to for 30 more seconds.

"Fine, you win."

Nora brushed her bangs out of her face, while she observed the deep black trenches around the corner of his eyes that engulfed the freckles on his cheeks. She soon realized she was frowning too. He had a small triumph and turned his head towards Nora. He smelled her and automatically was comforted, he hadn't seen her all day and perhaps he would have been better if he had.

"Farley, everything alright?" She was still affixed with his scrunched features, "You seem a little…"

"I'm fine. I tried talking to her again this morning and it was horrendous."

"Who? Your sister?" Her hair fell lazily back, this time she ignored it. There were more pending things to concentrate on.

"You have sister?!" An eavesdropper intruded in. Farley's shoulders dropped and he nodded, "Is she fit?"

"Fuck off Russell!" Nora and Farley nearly exclaimed in unison. The offender held his hands up defensively and returned to passing notes.

"God, I can't believe it. It was absolutely horrible." Farley continued and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Tell me more after school… that frigging nutter is still listening in." Nora said lowly and then promptly stuck her middle finger up at the boy.

Farley agreed and finally attempted to find where they were in his notes. Much like Nora he gave up after seconds of hearing his teacher's droning voice. He went back to listening to the chatter of his classmates, the crinkling of papers, and the newly tinkering rain on the windows.

Nora struggled to pedal and balance with Farley on her handlebars. It was not sprinkling, but it wasn't anywhere close to pouring. Nora turned the corner to go to her house, which was across from Farley's mother's house. He was aware of which route she had taken and adjusted himself as he tilted his head back.

"We're going the wrong way. You know this, right?"

"I thought you were coming over?"

"I'm still at my dad's house." He gripped the horizontal bar under his bottom.

"He isn't home until six tonight."

"I know… but he's--"

"So you're coming over? And stop moving, you're making me wobbly!"

"Sorry. I guess I could come over for a bit. Although I want to be back a little early, Avery's making supper." He wipe rain off of his brow.

"She seems nice." Nora slowed to a stop on the walkway to her front door. Farley hopped down and jogged to the door.

"She is. That's what I can't figure out." He held the door open while Nora carried her bike up the stairs and into the small entry way. They removed their mucky shoes and went about the house.

"Ha!" She dropped her backpack on a chair in the living room, where the television was murmuring to itself and her mother slept upright in the arm-chair with a book in hand. Nora unzipped her sweat-shirt, taking in her surroundings, "Looks like you should have brought a jacket to school today."

Nora's mother stirred causing the two to pause a moment, then Farley striped off his wet school blazer, "I didn't have time, was running late this morning."

She waved a hand towards the stairs without realizing it, "Come on. Wait, again?"

"Yeah…"

"That's the second time this week!" Nora sarcastically scolded, Farley let his hand slide up the polished banister.

"You sound like my father. Oh! And there's another thing!"

There was a pause as Nora flicked on the lights, revealing lavender walls filled with photos and posters, "Be careful I have laundry piles on the floor."

"Ok. So anyways, this morning I couldn't speak, I just sat there like a jackass stuffing my face." An umph was pressed out of his lungs he laid belly down Nora's bed. "Then I spilled my milk all over…I couldn't even manage a thank you. I wish I could find something--anything to say to her."

Farley was talking at a high speed, even despite this distress he as aware of every location of Nora in her room. She strolled from her speakers to turn on music, then she brushed through her hair in front of her vanity's mirror, and then she laid down next to him. Nora's fingers filed through a stack of magazines on her nightstand landing on one to flip through. She situated on her stomach propped up by her elbows with the magazine on her pillow. Nora's heat was radiating off to Farley's side and every move she made the bed sink in the middle.

"It isn't that hard. Talk to her like she's just another person."

"Yeah, I know… But she happens to be my older half-sister who didn't even know I existed a few weeks ago. I think if I mention the wrong thing it could be incredibly awkward."
 
"Farley," A page was mid-turn, music filled came to the foreground as Nora stared hard at him, "Don't over think it. You'll think of something, you're extremely witty." The page turning continued.

"You think I'm witty?"

"Yes, you make me laugh all the time. I remember the first time we met. I--"

"That's unfortunate."

She knocked Farley playfully with her shoulder, "Hey!"

"I mean, I made a fool of myself in front of you!"

"No, you didn't make a fool of yourself. You were actually quite charming for an eleven year old." She casually poked his side and rolled over to her back, still propped up by her elbows.

"What happened to that?" He asked scratching his brow.

"You still are charming…and of course funny, and nice, and smart…" As Nora's list went on her voice became slighter and shyer. Farley smirked and felt his face become hot, "Look, just try talking to her. She sounds nice, and if not she at least sounds polite."

"Thanks, Nora." This time he was fine not finding the right words to string a sentence together, instead he wanted to show her.

Their bodies scooted and sank closer towards the center of the mattress. The music was overwhelming in his ears suddenly, as all of his sensors went into overdrive. They were looking at each other, he could feel her breath on his face. He could smell her chap-stick, her perfume, her hair and the cold air from out side still on her clothing. Her hair brushed against his arm was giving him goose-bumps, the softness of her comforter urged him to slink under it, and his clothing felt constricting like they were drenched, not damp. He had an inkling to lean in and kiss her. The urge was so strong he was going to try, but he was unsure where her lips were. It was a black void with a featureless, yet perfect silhouette in front of him. The moment was supposed to be perfect with her and he knew he could very easily ruin it. Apprehension traveled over his limbs in waves from a tsunami. His abdomen boiled with several emotions.

"I'd better go home." Farley whispered, wiggling off the bed.

As fast as a flash from a lightening bug, Farley was out of the door and gathering his things from the living room. Nora couldn't even offer to walk him home; this left her with an odd sense of rejection. Frustration, adrenaline, and embarrassment floated in Farley. Gutters slurped and gargled water into the sewers, street lights flickered and the pungent cologne of the city was stronger than usual in the moist air. Farley popped his collar up warding the premature evening fall nippiness away. That night he neglected his homework and didn't bother to eat supper with Avery, Arden, and Ptolemy.