Page 21 of Magically Generated
Chapter 9
Whohurtyou,Nora?
Wednesday morning, as Everett got ready for work, he wondered that for approximately the two-hundredth and fifty-seventh time.It was a good thing he didn’t have a sculpture planned until tomorrow.He wouldn’t have been able to concentrate well enough to pull it off.
He kept thinking about how she’d sipped her drink, about how she’d launched herself at him and ground herself against him until he’d almost come in his pants.
Then he’d spoken for the first time in minutes, and somehow, that had ruined it for her.
You’re so fucking hot.
He’d replayed those words over and over in his mind.
Had they been too crude for her?He doubted it.No, it seemed like she struggled with a compliment about her appearance—or a compliment from him, in particular?He wanted to understand, but he wouldn’t push her to explain.She’d made it sound like the problem was her, not him, and he hated to think what was going through her head as she fled his apartment.She usually seemed in control of herself, but Sunday had been different.
That evening, he’d sent her a single text.He’d typed and deleted it seven times, and what he’d sent still wasn’t quite right, but he’d been unable to find the correct words.
Everett:I’m sorry for how things ended.Don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance, but if you want to talk, you know where to find me.
He hadn’t seen her since, but that was nothing unusual: before he’d run into her at the first snow sculpture, he’d only seen her every few weeks.
He knew he had to give her space.If they encountered each other in the hall, that was one thing, but he wouldn’t seek her out, even if she was constantly on his mind.He’d wait for her to come to him.
Everett poured his coffee into a Santa mug and sat down with a bowl of cereal.In an attempt to forget about Nora, he picked up his phone and came across a photo of the walrus sculpture, surrounded by orange fencing.
As if that would stop anyone who wanted to destroy a snow sculpture.
He cleaned his dirty dishes before putting on his clothes for work.Christmas was almost here, and it was his favorite time of year.Even though he’d be spending the twenty-fifth alone, it was a wonderful season.His plan was, overall, a success.His sculptures had turned out just as he’d imagined, and people were enjoying them.
He’d do his best to focus on the good things in life.
Nora was not in a good mood.
Earlier, she’d signed out an ebook from the library, and after a few minutes of reading, she’d started to get a strange feeling about the book.Something wasn’t quite right, and a little internet sleuthing revealed that yes, the text was likely AI-generated.
For fuck’s sake.Was it so wrong that she wished to relax with a novel written by an actual human?
She wanted to read stories that had been written with care, by a writer who’d wrestled with words, who might have sworn at the computer and procrastinated by cleaning the entire apartment and furiously dictated notes in the middle of the night; she didn’t want to simply consume content for the sake of it.So, she’d pulled an old favorite off her shelf, unwilling to take a chance on anything new.If she found an AI prompt in a book, she’d probably chuck something at the wall.
And now, she was in a Christmas-themed pop-up bar, seated next to a very large nutcracker.There was a young couple to her left, and a group of women in their thirties to her right.It wasn’t making her feel any less cranky.
“I’m not sure why you wanted to come here,” she muttered.
“I know it’s not your thing, but the drinks are good, aren’t they?”Aimee took a sip of hers.It was a violent shade of red.
Or a seasonally appropriate shade of red, as others might say.But Nora was feeling rather violent at the moment.Everything was making her angry today.When she’d been spending time with Everett, she hadn’t been quite as irritated with life in general, but then he’d uttered those words…
She tried her own drink.It was a twist on an old-fashioned—as in, the least offensively Christmasy thing on the menu—and it was decent.But, to her frustration, it wasn’t as good as the drink that her neighbor had made her.
“Yeah,” she said.“Sure.”
When Aimee frowned, Nora felt annoyed with herself for bringing down her friend’s good spirits.Aimee’s night with her new man had been amazing.She had that glowingI’m-in-love, I-just-had-sexlook.
Nora shouldn’t find it quite so nauseating, but she did.“Tell me more about—”
“No,” Aimee said.“I want to know why you’re even grumpier than usual.”
“Am not,” Nora protested instinctively.
