Before the Morning [BEING EDITED]

25 | At Five

Nora sprawled out in the bathtub, guitar-less and somber. She closed her eyes and sang, "The moon is out, but there's no light. The world's so cold, but it's summertime."

She sang through the whole song, just as passionately as she would if this were the first time she'd sung the song today—or even the second. When she was done, Nolan shifted the camera, she altered her position, and she sang it again. Over and over, angle by angle, she sang and he filmed.

"Maybe this time you could sit on the edge," Nolan suggested.

"Ooh, yes!" She scrambled to her feet, Converse sliding noisily against the tub, and dropped onto the tub's edge. "Oh, oh—and then maybe we could do one with me looking into the mirror."

"Definitely."

She grinned, and he smiled.

This time, he panned around her as she sang, then held his position. She held her somber stance, shifting when she saw fit. She'd said it before, but dang. She should really be an actress.

"You still going to the sleepover tonight?" she asked once they'd finished with the tub. She snagged a Clorox wipe from under the sink and wiped down the sink, clearing away a few specks of toothpaste.

He nodded.

"Cool. Willow and I will pick you up around five?"

"Sounds good."

She tossed the wipe into the trash.

"Do I need a sleeping bag or anything?" he asked.

"You might," she said, eyes on the mirror as she retouched her hair. "If you plan on sleeping, anyway."

He selected a spot for their first take. "Do you guys typically fall asleep?" he asked.

"Willow and Erin pass out," she replied. "Willow tries so hard, but she always goes into this loopy state and then falls asleep against her will. One time, she fell asleep while we were playing hide and seek. No one found her until morning."

"What about the rest of you?"

"Andy and Max always make it. As for me..." She shrugged. "A couple times I've passed out, a couple times I haven't. Depends on how tired I am."

She was still irritated with herself for failing last year. She'd made it until five in the morning. Five! A few more hours, and she would have been golden.

"How about you, Nol?" she asked. "Think you'll make it?"

He shrugged. "I guess we'll find out. Ready?"

She nodded. He pressed Record, and she was off.

"Blech," she said once they'd finished, stretching out her dry tongue. "I need a water break. You feeling some water? I'm feeling some water."

He followed her downstairs, to the kitchen. She grabbed two cups from the cabinet and flicked on the tap. "So, what made you decide you believe?" she asked. He hesitated, biting his lip, and her eyes widened. "Crap, sorry, it slipped. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's fine," he said. "Actually, it was you."

Her jaw slackened. "Me?" she asked. Her heart hammered.

"Your text," he said.

Her heart stuttered, unsure. "My text?"

"Yeah. You messaged right as I was thinking about how I needed help figuring stuff out."

"Oh." Calm down. She smiled. "I love it when that happens. It feels like He's looking out for us, you know?"

He nodded. "Things don't feel clearer," he said.

She handed him his water. "As great as it would be to have all of the answers instantaneously, it doesn't always work that way. But now that you know what you believe, you can work toward forgiveness."

He blinked, disbelief coloring his face.

"You may not be ready for that yet," she said, sipping her water. "A relationship with God is just like a relationship with anyone you love. There are ups and downs. Sometimes you'll feel close to Him, and sometimes you'll feel yourself growing distant and won't understand why. And, sometimes, you'll get mad. Furious. You might wonder if the relationship is worth holding onto." She reached forward, squeezing his free hand. "But you fight. You heal."

He squeezed her hand back, and butterflies zipped around her stomach.

"What's the point of all this?" he asked. "All of the horrible things. Why?"

"I won't pretend to have all the answers," she said. "But, I think it comes down to free will."

"What?"

"He wants us to choose Him," she said. "To do that, we need free will. So, we have choices to make. Hurt this person, or help them? Sometimes, we choose wrong." And sometimes, our wrong choices destroy lives. She sighed. "As for the stuff we don't have any control over: I don't know."

He nodded thoughtfully.

The front door opened, and her heart rammed into her throat. She dropped his hand, gaze whipping toward the door. No. He wasn't supposed to be home until after she left for the sleepover. What was he doing there?

She schooled her expression, and her dad sauntered into the kitchen, tugging at his tie. The tie. He faltered when he saw Nolan and Nora.

"Dad," she said. "Hey."

"Nice surprise, Nolan," he said. "What are you kids up to?"

She folded her lips. "Nolan was just helping me out with something," she said. A safe answer—or, at least, safer.

"Okay. I'll be in the living room if you guys need me." With a polite smile, he was gone.

She stared after him, one hand wrapped around her necklace and the other furling and unfurling at her side. Her entire body felt like it had been buried under sand—each movement was a struggle.

"Nor?" Nolan asked. "You okay?"

She blinked and smiled. "Yeah," she said. Get him out of here. "You know, I actually have a lot to get done around the house today before I can go to the sleepover. Is it okay if you head home a little early? We have all the footage we need, right?"

"Oh. Sure."

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it," he said, but of course she would, because there was concern in his eyes, and that meant suspicion. "I'll see you later."

"At five."

"At five."

✝

Nora pressed herself to the window, the chain of her necklace weaving around her fingers as she watched Nolan drift further and further down the road.

"What are you doing?"

She turned. Her dad stood in the doorway, red-faced and glowering. "I was just—"

"So, this is what you do when I'm gone, huh?" He stepped forward, and her grip tightened around her necklace. "You invite boys over?"

"We were just—"

"I know what you were doing," he snapped. He jabbed her with his finger, and she winced. "Let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about dating that boy, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?"

"I—"

"Do. You. Understand?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Good." He yanked a bottle of beer from the fridge and then he was gone, back to the living room. Laughter blared from the television.

She sagged and looked out the window again. Nolan was gone. Safe.