HEARING DAMAGE
ADULT NOLA - CHAPTER FIFTY !

           A DEEP SIGH ESCAPED Nola's lips, her shoulders sagging heavily as she closed the front door behind her. The lock clicked softly into place, but she barely heard it over the exhaustion buzzing in her head. Without lifting her gaze, she tossed her keys into the delicate ceramic bowl that sat on the entryway table — one of those expensive, decorative things her mother had once insisted every home needed when it had really just been another way for the woman to boast of her wealth.

She had just gotten home, left outside moments earlier by Shauna. The ride back had been suffocating in its silence, the air in the car stale and heavy. Taissa and Van had orchestrated the whole thing — roping Shauna into driving her home under the flimsy excuse of being "too busy." It was obvious to Nola that they were lying. This wasn't about errands or full schedules — it was their thinly veiled attempt to force her and Shauna to talk.

The kind of meddling that came from shared trauma, when you convinced yourself you knew what was best for someone because you had survived hell with them.

Nola knew their game. This was their adult version of shoving her and Shauna into a closet and holding the door shut until they made up.

But Nola had nothing to say to Shauna. Not back then and most certainly not now. There had been a reason she had left all those years ago.

The silence had persisted through the drive — Shauna's eyes fixed on the road, her fingers tapping idly on the steering wheel, while Nola had stared out the window, only half-listening to the faint murmur of music from the speakers.

When they finally pulled up outside Nola's childhood home, Shauna had lingered. For a moment, Nola had glanced over to mutter a reluctant 'thank you' — but the Sedecki woman wasn't looking at her. Her gaze was fixed on the house, her face softened by something distant and wistful.

Nola knew exactly what she was thinking. Memories of a different time — of finding comfort in each other's arms. Of running off at parties to find a quiet corner where they could drunkenly make out, giggling as they wiped away each other's smudged lipstick. Back when things were simple. Back before their time in the Wilderness had twisted their lives into something dark and splintered.

For a second, their eyes had met — Shauna's gaze hopeful, like maybe there was still something left to salvage. Despite her, you know, being married! But Nola just shook her head, breaking whatever moment they might have had. That life felt too far away now, like it belonged to someone else entirely.

Shauna's face fell, hope fading into resignation.

"Thanks." Nola muttered before climbing out of the car and disappearing into the house. She barely had time to close the door before she heard Shauna's van pulling away, its tires crunching on gravel as it disappeared down the road.

Nola stood there for a moment, fingers still resting on the doorknob. She didn't know what she was feeling — not anger, not sadness, just... emptiness. Like she was still trying to shake off something that had clung to her skin long after it should have faded.

Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice the lights glowing from inside the house. She didn't register the faint sound of someone breathing — the slight creak of furniture shifting under weight.

Not until she turned — and saw Misty Quigley sitting in her living room.

A sharp, rasping scream tore from Nola's throat before she even realized what she was doing. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, her pulse thundering in her ears as she stumbled back against the door. For a brief, panicked moment, she thought it was some stranger — some intruder — before her brain finally caught up.

It was Misty.

Misty, with her curly hair and round glasses perched neatly on her face, smiling like she was visiting an old friend. Her expression stretched wide with that same unsettling enthusiasm that always made Nola's skin crawl.

The brunette pressed a trembling hand to her chest, trying to calm her breath. "How did you even get in here?" She demanded, voice tight with disbelief.

Misty shrugged with an air of smug nonchalance. "It was easy." She quipped, her grin widening. "You don't exactly have a state-of-the-art security system, Nola." Her tone was sing-song, like she was mocking a bank after having robbed the place.

Her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her tote bag as she stood, never breaking eye contact. There was a kind of sharpness in her smile now — something too eager, too intense. "Now," The Quigley woman said brightly, her voice firm with finality. "You're coming with me."

Immediately, Nola shook her head. "No, I'm not." Her voice was firm, unwavering. She wasn't going anywhere with Misty. "Leave me alone, Misty."

She turned away, heading for the kitchen — as if putting a few walls between them would somehow make the woman disappear. She barely heard Misty's hurried footsteps following behind her.

"You don't even want to know what it is?" Misty's voice followed her like a hook, teasing, playful — like she knew exactly how to bait her.

Nola's shoulders stiffened. "I don't really give a shit." She muttered flatly, as she walked towards the refrigerator. Her voice was void of emotion — her own attempt to starve Misty's manipulations of any power.

"It's for Natalie."

The words sliced through the air like a knife.

The Rilke woman stopped dead in her tracks, the sound of her shoes hitting the mahogany floorboards echoing through the otherwise silent house. The weight of Misty's words settled onto her shoulders, causing them to slump as if an invisible force had pressed down on her all at once. Natalie. Recently deceased, poorly eulogised just hours ago, and already Misty was dragging her into something.

"For fuck's sake." She complained under her breath, barely loud enough to be heard over the steady pounding of her own heartbeat. She inhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose before rolling her eyes skyward, as if silently asking the universe why it insisted on torturing her. When she finally turned, she did so slowly, letting her eyes settle on Misty, who stood there wearing that infuriatingly smug expression, like she knew Nola would give in before she even opened her mouth.

"Fine." Nola relented, her voice tight with frustration. "I will help you with whatever Misty-esque quest you have planned, but you will leave me alone afterwards. Are we clear?"

Misty's head bobbed up and down immediately, her voice light, almost playful as she responded. "Crystal."

Despite herself, despite the gross feeling that came with being inebriated and the dull ache of grief still pressing against her ribs, the brunette couldn't help the small, wry grin that flickered across her lips. "Oh, yeah, I remember her."

Her mind briefly drifted back to Crystal. She and Misty had been as thick as thieves one day, singing their little hearts out and annoying everyone else and then the next, Crystal was just gone. Vanished into the raging blizzard that had swept over the cabin the day Shauna had suffered her stillbirth. In the grand, horrific scheme of things, Crystal had definitely met a kinder fate than most of them had.

Misty's expression shifted, the amusement draining from her features at the mention of her long-lost friend. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she adjusted her glasses, her movements stiff with irritation. "Just get your things." She uttered flatly, her voice losing its excited flair. "I'll be in the car."

Nola didn't argue. She had very little to grab, anyway. She quickly shed the stiff, uncomfortable outfit she had worn to Natalie's funeral, pulling on something looser, softer—something that didn't feel like it was suffocating her. She ran a brush through her dark hair, before snatching her house keys off the side table and heading for the door.

As she stepped outside, she paused at the mailbox. It was a habit more than anything, but when she pulled the lid open, she was surprised to find a large envelope waiting inside. Her name was scrawled across the front in rushed, uneven handwriting. She barely had a chance to register it before Misty honked impatiently from the car.

She quickly signalled for the blonde to wait with her hand, ignoring the exaggerated eye roll Misty shot her from the driver's seat. Without much thought, she rushed back inside, tossing the envelope onto the side table by the key bowl before heading back out. The second she settled into the passenger seat, Misty wasted no time putting the car in drive, taking off with a sharp turn that nearly threw Nola against the door.

Nola shot her a glare but let it go. Instead, she let her head fall back against the headrest, her eyes shifting sideways to regard Misty. "So," She began, her voice edged with reluctant curiosity. "What exactly is it we're supposed to be doing, Quigley?"

Misty kept her eyes on the road as she made a sharp left turn, dodging a red light with precision. "Nat had a storage unit, and now I've got the key. We're going to check to see if she left anything important or of note behind."

Nola exhaled through her nose, nodding in silent understanding. She had never known Natalie to be the type to keep a storage unit, but then again, she hadn't spoken to the woman in over 25 years. There was a lot about her Nola didn't know and now never would.

The car ride fell into silence after that, the only sound filling the space between them being the faint hum of a Broadway soundtrack. 'Take Me or Leave Me' from Rent drifted through the speakers. Nola could only sigh as she was forced to remember Misty's affinity for musicals, something that had clearly carried on well into adulthood.

After a few minutes, Misty pulled the car into a near-empty lot lined with storage units, rows of identical metal doors stretching into the distance like tombstones in a cemetery. "We're here." She announced matter-of-factly as she yanked the handbrake.

"I can see that." The Rilke woman muttered, rolling her eyes. God, being around Misty really did bring her right back to being a teenager.

Before she could even unbuckle her seat belt, Misty had already sprung into action, snatching her bag and hopping out of the car with an eagerness that made Nola's stomach twist. The lock clicked open with an unsettling ease, and the storage unit door rattled as Misty pulled it upward. The dim light overhead flickered to life, illuminating stacks of boxes, old furniture, and the ghosts of a past Natalie had left behind.

The curly haired blonde didn't waste time. She began pointing at different stacks, issuing orders like a drill sergeant. "Right. Let's get these boxes checked. You start there, I'll work on these ones."

Nola huffed out a breath. "You're the boss." She proclaimed, stepping forward to begin searching in the boxes still on the shelves.

The first box she opened was filled with old photographs, a haphazard collection of Natalie's life frozen in time. There were pictures from before the crash—grinning, carefree snapshots of a girl who had no idea what was coming, though still an veil of discomfort from a life of abuse was awash over young Natalie's face. Others were from long after they had returned, after the Wilderness had carved itself into their bones and left something hollow behind.

One photo caught Nola's eye. She plucked it from the pile, turning it between her fingers before holding it up for Misty to see. "Hey, look, a photo of her and Travis. I wonder if he's heard about her death yet. I'm surprised he hasn't reached out to anyone. I'd love to talk to him."

The storage unit suddenly felt too still.

Misty stopped, her body going rigid as her brows furrowed deeply. Behind her thick lenses, her eyes blinked rapidly, as if she were trying to process something incomprehensible. "Wait, what?" She asked, voice laced with something that Nola couldn't comprehend.

The brunette frowned, confused by Misty's reaction. "What?"

Misty took a slow step forward, her head tilting slightly, as if trying to decide whether or not she had actually heard Nola correctly. "Nola..." Misty's voice was unusually quiet. "Travis is dead."

Nola let out a sharp laugh. "No, he isn't." The words came easily, dismissively. This had to be one of Misty's things—her strange, twisted attempts at humour. But Misty didn't move. She didn't crack a smile, didn't so much as blink. She just stared, the weight of her gaze heavy with quiet certainty.

And then, like a dam bursting, the truth slammed into Nola all at once.

Her breath hitched. Her fingers tightened around the photograph until the edges crumpled beneath her grip. Misty still hadn't moved, hadn't said another word, just watched as the reality of it sunk in.

"He's dead?" Nola whispered, the words barely making it past her lips.

Her whole body felt like it had turned to stone. Travis is dead. Her friend. Gone. And she hadn't been there. She hadn't even known. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed hard, forcing it down. She had no right to mourn. She had left him behind—left them all behind. This was her punishment.

Misty's voice was soft. "I'm sorry."

Nola clenched her jaw. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't feel. She cleared her throat. "It's fine. I'm fine. Let's just keep going."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

            Nola slowly shook her head. "I'd rather not talk at all, if that's possible." She appreciated what Misty was trying to do but talking about it would do nothing to alleviate the guilt Nola felt, the shame that coursed through her veins.

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            IT WAS SAFE TO SAY Nola just wanted to face-dive into her bed, burrow herself deep under a pile of blankets, and never speak to anyone else again. That was actually her plan when Misty dropped her off that evening. Grief gnawed relentlessly at her resolve, and the once-comforting hum of car tires on pavement had turned into a droning reminder of everything she'd lost.

The drive back from the storage unit had been a suffocating silence, the air thick with unspoken words and the lingering scent of dust and mildew from Natalie's boxes. Misty, usually quick to ramble on about the most asinine details, had kept her mouth shut, eyes fixed on the road with an intensity that suggested even she understood words would have been futile. For all her quirks and meddlesome tendencies, the Quigley woman had the good sense to recognize when company was no comfort.

Nola had merely nodded her thanks as she climbed out of the car, the unspoken gratitude clear to the curly-haired blonde who understood that this grief, this loss would further tethered them together. The people they loved were dropping like flies.

           The old childhood house loomed before her, wrapped in the embrace of a moonlit night, with only the faint hum of the overhead light flickering to life as she sluggishly approached. The sudden burst of light illuminated the faint figure hidden away in the shadows, that caused Nola to sigh, her exhaustion deepening, but she kept her steps even as she continued to look ahead.

            Just what she wanted—more visitors.

"Does your mother know you're here?" Her tone was tired, the question a half-hearted scold. She brushed past the teenager without breaking stride, keys jangling as she unlocked the door.

           Callie sighed in dramatic annoyance, skulking forward from the darkness she had believed had concealed her so well, with a poorly concealed pout. The harsh light illuminated her sullen expression—eyebrows arched in disbelief, lips twisted into a scowl. "Do you honestly think I'd be here if she did?" She shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word.

            "I guess not." The Rilke woman muttered, shoving the door open and flipping on the lights. The warm glow revealed the cold environment she found herself living in. The furniture that looked as though it had never been sat in was a far cry from her stuff back at Camp Green Pine.

As her keys dropped into the bowl on the side table with a metallic clatter, Nola inquired, "Why are you here?" She didn't bother to look back, already shrugging off her coat and draping it over a chair. Her fingers rubbed at the aching muscles in her neck. She'd been braced for another quiet night of pretending her life wasn't falling down around her, not babysitting Shauna's rebellious daughter.

            Callie followed her inside, taking the woman's question as an invitation. "I know everything." She declared, a bold proclamation that she would be enough to convince Nola to speak on everything that had happened to her and her friends in the past, ultimately giving the young Sadecki girl the information she so desperately desired.

Nola scoffed in lethargic amusement—a bitter twist of her lips that carried no amusement. She had spent far too much time around girls constantly trying to get one over on each other, herself included. She knew when she was being duped, she was too tired to play games, and certainly too tired to indulge a teenager's curiosity.

"No, you don't." She shot back coolly, eyes flicking over Callie's scowling face. "I'd argue you know next to nothing. After all, I highly doubt your mom told you anything of value. She keeps her cards pretty close to her chest, in case you haven't noticed."

            Callie's mouth opened, a retort hovering on the tip of her tongue, but she clamped it shut. The flicker of doubt in her eyes was gone in an instant, replaced by stubborn resolve. She dropped onto the couch opposite Nola, leaning forward with elbows braced on her knees. The girl was tough—more like her mother than she knew—her stare was sharp and probing, a predator sizing up its prey. As she remained mute, Nola took this opportunity to pull out her cell phone and send a quick text message to Shauna, letting her know that her persistent daughter had found her way to her house.

            "Oh, I've noticed." Callie finally relented with a sigh. She knew now that trying to trick the woman before her would get her nowhere. Her next words were edged with false bravado as she challenged Nola. "Well then, you can tell me."

            A smile twisted Nola's lips—bitter, humorless, tired. "I could. I won't, but I could." She replied, the sarcasm thick enough to smother Callie's enthusiasm.

             The young Sadecki girl huffed and puffed in irritation. She practically threw herself back into the couch as she stared hard over at the woman. "What the hell happened out there?"

The Rilke woman met the girl's gaze, unblinking. The lies rolled off her tongue with practiced ease, the taste of them bitter but familiar. "Our plane crashed. We had to listen to our friends scream in the fire, knowing there was nothing we could do. Then we got trapped out there for nineteen months, struggling to survive." She shrugged, her expression flat. "It's not as fascinating as you imagine it to be. I mean, did it mess us all up? Yeah, but something like that would mess anyone up."

Nola wasn't going to reveal anything this girl didn't need to know. Frankly seeing the child her ex-girlfriend had with the very same man she had cheated on her with all those years ago was very quickly beginning to grate on her nerves. It was obvious to her that Callie didn't know the extent of her mom's relationship with Nola so she didn't blame her but having her around just reminded of her exactly why she had packed a bag and left New Jersey back then.

The teen stared over at Nola, her body language conveying that of the bad cop in a good-cop, bad-cop pairing. If Nola wasn't so fed up, she might have found it funny. "I don't believe you. Something else happened out there. I've heard people talk." She snapped back at the woman who had been childhood friends with her mother.

    Of course, Nola knew what she meant. She chuckled drily. "Oh, right. The whole 'they ate each other' rumor. Total bullshit. People just wanted to find something to talk about after we got back. Our story wasn't interesting enough, so they made one up." The lie slipped out smoothly. Gaslighting was easy when the truth was worse.

            Obviously all of that speculating people had made was 100% correct but they had all agreed long ago that no one needed to know the truth. Everyone had no right to know anything, especially those who passed judgement on something they had no fucking clue about.

            "What's the deal with you and my mom then?" The Sadecki girl then curiously asked, moving on from their time lost in the Canadian Wilderness and instead to her mom's time as a teenager. There was so much she wanted to know that she had questions to last for days. "Anytime she's asked about the past, about you and Jackie, she gets this weird look on her face."

            Nola was quick to reply, "That's something you'd have to ask her." She sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to tell Callie about her mom's past relationships.

            "Callie?"

            Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

            Nola's shoulders shook with laughter at the sound of Shauna's voice. "That was so well timed, oh my God." She muttered quietly to herself before raising her volume to call out. "She's in here."

            The burn of Callie's glare mirrored that of a summers day in the sun. "You texted my mom?"

           Before the Rilke woman could utter a reply, Shauna came stomping into the living room, a glare fixed upon her daughter as she scolded her. "What the hell, Callie? Why are you here?"

           "Being nosy." Nola spoke up for the teen, providing an answer that she would have tried to avoid giving.

            Shauna let out a sigh while her head shook in disappointment. "You can't just invite yourself to someone else's house, no matter who they are. I'm sure Nola doesn't want you sticking your nose in her business." As she spoke, she cast a brief but intense look in Nola's direction, the two women's eyes meeting for but a few mere seconds before they both looked away.

            The look hadn't gone unnoticed by Callie, who jumped to her feet and threw her hands up in exasperation. "What was that look? Why are you two being so fucking weird?" She demanded to know.

            Shauna looked quite uncomfortable. This was clearly not something she wanted to talk about. She was still trying to have a proper conversation with Nola who had been dodging her ever since her return to Wiskayok. She would much rather speak to her first before she even thought about revealing such an intimate detail of her past.

Hesitation filled her voice as she spoke to her daughter. "Callie, this is really something we should talk about at home."

The young brunette shook her head in defiance. Her arms folded across her chest as she harshly replied back, "I'm not getting in the car until you tell me the truth." She wasn't leaving that house until she finally got some answers. Her mom would have to physically lift and carry her if she wanted to get her out that front door.

As Shauna's eyes flickered over towards Nola once more, seeking some help or some advice from her former girlfriend, Nola let out a sigh as she rose to her feet. "Don't look at me, Shauna. She's your daughter, not mine."

Sensing that there was simply no way forward without spilling something to Callie, Shauna decided that her past relationship with Nola was better than divulging ever sick, heinous thing they had done to survive during those nineteen months.

"We—" The Sadecki woman began, her left hand moving about as she gestured to herself and Nola. "Use to be together. Happy now?"

Callie's jaw dropped. "Wait, you two dated? When was this?"

"When we were kids."

"Were you a couple out there?" Suddenly her eyes blew wide open as a potential revelation hit her. She looked gobsmacked as she shot an accusation at her mother. "You cheated on dad?"

Feeling petty, Nola chimed back into the conversation. "Actually she cheated on me with your dad and he cheated on Jackie with your mom." She stared pointedly at Shauna as she spoke.

Shauna shot her a look of annoyance. She didn't appreciate her transgressions being revealed so easily to her daughter. She didn't want Callie knowing her mom and dad had started out as a couple of cheaters. "Nice."

The look did nothing to deter Nola. She wasn't scared of Shauna like all of the rest were. "I'm just being honest. You did."

"This shit's insane." Callie commented.

"Yeah, it's crazy." Nola tiredly replied. She was seriously growing bored of this little family spat. Shauna was right, this was something to deal with back home. Their home, away from her. "Okay, well I'd like to go to bed. I've had a pretty bad day so if you could just, you know, get out of my house."

Callie just nodded her head. She had gotten more than she expected so she was happy for now. She took her new information with a smile before heading over towards the front door, busying herself with being nosy about the stuff sitting on the side table.

As her daughter walked away, Shauna took this opportunity to speak quietly to Nola. She took a step towards the woman as she questioned, "What happened? Is everything okay?"

Nola really didn't want to talk about what she had learned, she just wanted to deal with her feelings herself. "Yeah, I just got some bad news. About Travis."

Realisation swam through Shauna's eyes. Immediately a frown formed on her lips. "Shit, that's right. You didn't know. I'm sorry, I remember how close you guys were."

Nola nodded. "Yeah. First Natalie, now him."

"I'm here if you want to talk." Shauna earnestly told her. She looked so unbelievably kind, so sweet as if her words didn't hold any ulterior motive but Nola knew her better than Shauna believed.

"Go home, Shauna."

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author's thoughts.
chapter fifty, not proofread
so Melissa is alive lads that hat she was wearing was so funny. 2 time Oscar winner Hilary swank is wearing a backwards cap. Anyway I hope you enjoyed :)