Read Online Zora and Nicky: A Novel in Black and White by Claudia Mair Burney - Free Book Online Page A

there’s no doubt he knows Princess Zora has voted herself off the island of abundance.
    NICKY
     
    I’m at Barnes and Noble with Pete, my best friend. Had a little church business to attend to in Ypsi and rewarded myself for being civil to my dad with a trip to the bookstore nearby. Pete and I have been buddies since the third grade. His dad has been a deacon in our church forever, and Pete and I were always getting into a world of trouble together. We’re not so much alike. We never were actually.
    I’ve always loved to read. You have to make Pete read. I’m blonde. He’s dark haired. He tans. I wilt in the sun. I’ll admit it, I get the ladies’ attention. Pete’s the guy in the movie destined to be cast as “best friend.” Yeah. He’s got that vibe, but he works it. He charms the ladies, and in a while has them thinking he’s Tom freakin’ Cruise. Tonight he’s trying his game on the barista at the Starbucks inside of B&N. She’s grinning at him while I peruse the latest issue of Writer’s Digest. There’s an article about jumpstarting your novel, and I’m thinking I probably couldn’t jumpstart mine if I had the cables and the juice—or even the beginnings of a decent story.
    And Dad wanting me to go to seminary is weighing on me. Maybe because he’s so freakin’ impressed at how good my undergraduate degree has been to me, the way I’ve racked up credit card debt buying writing books. He scoffs at any mention of an MFA program, especially since I’m so blocked I can hardly write my name, and he’s nuts about my stellar job supplying disgruntled workers like myself with potato chips and pretzels.
    God, please let Pete slip some arsenic in my latte.
    Then again, the way things happen for me, it’d probably only make me sick. Let him shoot me. I’ve already got the gun thanks to my NRA-loving grandfather. Better yet, I’ll just shoot myself. Pete won’t have to go to jail, and I won’t have to go to Southern Baptist seminary.
    Pete returns with my poison-free latte and a venti mocha for himself. He’s got the newest Jay-Z CD under his arm.
    “Nick, you think I should get this, man?”
    “I thought you had it.”
    “I did, yo. But I ended up giving it away.”
    Pete says “yo” in just about every other sentence. I have no idea where he picked up the habit, but I wish he’d take it back.
    “Pete, if you want it again, buy it.”
    “I don’t wanna spend the money on it twice, yo.”
    “Then don’t get it.”
    “But I like it.”
    I try not to strangle Pete. “Then get it!”
    “What’s eating you, yo?”
    I turn my head away to keep from unloading any more of my discontent on him, and that’s when I see her.
    Zora, the Shulamite. Sitting at a table alone, shoulders rounded and looking as broken as she did at Bible study last night. I can’t believe how my heart pounds just looking at her. I grab my latte just to give myself something to do and take a long drag. It’s hot and burns my mouth. I end up spraying Pete by accident.
    He leaps up, disgusted. “Nicky, what is up with you, man?”
    I look over to see if she heard. And, sure enough, at the sound of my name Zora searches the café and finds me. Our eyes lock, and I can’t tell if that’s a smile or a grimace on her face.
    She probably grimaced.
    I stand. I can’t very well act like I don’t see her now . I force my feet to move, one in front of the other, until I make my way to her table. Once again, my eyes meet hers.
    She’s been crying. Oh, Dreamy. What happened?
    I don’t know if I should shake her hand or what, so I stick my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
    I nod a greeting, and she pretends she doesn’t remember my name.
    “Hey you, is it Nicky?”
    “Yeah. And your name is …”
    “Zora.”
    “ Zora ! That’s right.”
    And your mother’s name is Elizabeth, and your father’s Jack, and your first puppy, a Shar Pei, was called Diamond. I learned all that on MySpace. “How are you?”
    “I’m