Chapter Thirty
Noah
Yesterday passed in a blur of me not being able to forget the almost kiss and the way Evie gave me the cold shoulder on Friday night.
Now it’s Sunday and I’m in my room, trying to write the lyrics to our next song.
Lately when I’m stuck, I’d call Evie for help.
Considering she’s staying away from me like the plague, I’m on my own.
Either way, I’ll need to get used to not having her around, since she won’t always be part of the band, or part of my life.
Once we graduate, we’ll go our separate ways.
We might see each other every so often because our schools are only an hour away and we’ll mingle at family gatherings and holidays.
But for the most part, we’ll be living our own lives.
The lyrics are just not coming to me at all. Normally, I at least have something, but it’s like my brain decided to go on vacation.
Sighing, I bend forward and rub my hand down my face. What am I going to do now? My bandmates expect a new song and I can’t come up with anything.
Sometimes, it helps if I just relax and not think about it too much. So after taking a deep breath, I sink down in my seat and let my hand glide around my lyrics notebook.
Her beautiful dark hair and brown eyes float before my face, and my heart thumps just like it did at the party. Her lips are so close to mine, so inviting…
In my mind, we did kiss in the gazebo. And it was the most spectacular feeling in the world. I feel as though I’m leaving this world and am floating away to another. Evie’s in my arms, our cheeks pressed together, our breaths mingling. We become one.
Blinking, I tell myself to get a grip. It’s Evie. Evie. The girl I have no business having these feelings for.
When I glance down at my notebook to see what I’ve written, I nearly choke over my oxygen. Because right there, in blue ink, are the words “A girl with beautiful, paint-streaked dark hair and brown eyes that spins my world around and around.”
My breath hitches as I take in the entire song.
I’ve written about a girl who’s a complete mystery to me, like a gift I want to unwrap.
It’s about someone I’d like to get to know, even though she doesn’t see me that way.
And at the end, I wrote that she’s the girl of my dreams. And that even though we fight and argue a lot, I’m hers.
Completely hers. And I’d like her to be mine.
My heart pounding so strongly I feel it in every inch of my body, I shove the notebook off my desk, watching it splat to the floor. That notebook is one of my most prized possessions and now it’s on the floor like it means nothing to me.
All because of what’s written in there.
I bend forward, burying my face in my hands. What in the world is going on with me? Why did I write an entire song about her?
I don’t like her. I can’t like her.
Sweeping the notebook off the floor, I turn to the song and am about to rip it out, but I stop.
As much as I don’t want it to exist, it’s a good song and it’d be a shame to throw it out.
But the last thing I want is for someone to see it.
So I carefully tear out the pages and am about to stuff them in my bottom drawer.
But then I freeze and read the words again.
I’m trying to tell myself the song isn’t about her, but who am I kidding? I mention paint in her hair and all over her clothes. How she has the voice of an angel, is messy and drives me insane, but I love it.
Shaking my head, I shove the pages in the drawer, never to see the light of day.
It’s time to write another song.
But every time I poise my pen to write, the only things that pop into my head are those brown eyes and that beautiful dark hair. And my heart pounds all over again.
“Screw this,” I mutter under my breath and make my way downstairs to get away from it all. Maybe some food or water will make me feel better.
Mom’s folding laundry in the kitchen when I enter. She smiles at me. “Hey, honey.” She squints as she takes me in. “You all right?”
I nod, crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against the wall. “Fine. Actually, no. I’m not.”
She folds a shirt. “Want to talk about it?” After I nod, she gestures to the chairs and we sit across from each other. “What’s on your mind?”
I rub the back of my neck. “How do you know if you like a girl or if it’s just loneliness or hormones or whatever?”
Her eyes brighten with excitement. I never come to my mom or dad for dating advice, so I guess maybe she’s been waiting for this moment?
“Well, how do you feel when you’re close to her?” She asks. “Do you want to kiss her or spend time with her, get to know her?”
My eyebrows furrow as the kiss and almost kiss flash before my eyes.
It’s true that I’ve only started seeing her differently after the kiss, but when I think about it, I realize that I like spending time with her.
I took her to the museum because I wanted to be with her.
I like seeing her smile and I love singing with her.
All those times I convinced myself I hated being around her, the truth is it’s been quite the opposite.
Evie keeps me on my toes, challenges me, makes me laugh—which is something not many people can do—but what does it mean?
I shift in my seat. “I do think about kissing her a lot,” I admit. “But I like spending time with her. I love her brain and her big mouth, and the way she just…drives me crazy.”
A wide smile forms on Mom’s face. “Is she the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about before you go to sleep?”
“Definitely.” I couldn’t sleep at all for the past two nights because I kept thinking about us in each other’s arms, so close, so comfortable, so perfect.
She places her hand on my arm. “Seems to me that you really like this girl. But you know, even if it’s teenage hormones, it might grow into something much, much more deeper and beautiful the more time you two spend together.
My crush on your dad started with hormones, but it grew to be something so much more. ”
I nod slowly as I take in her words. “I just…I just can’t stop thinking about her.”
“In what way?”
The words flow from my mouth before I can stop them. “I want to hold her and keep her safe and tell her everything that lies in my heart. I want to share my hopes and dreams with her. I want her to be my everything.”
Mom smiles again. “Sounds to me like you love this girl.”
My eyes widen. “Love? No, I don’t think…no.”
“Okay, let’s not jump to love. But you have strong feelings for her.”
“But I shouldn’t. We’re so different and we can’t stand each other most of the time.”
Mom’s quiet for a bit. “Every relationship is different. Some couples work because they’re so similar. Others work because they’re so different. Have you talked to her about this?”
“No. I don’t think she feels the same way.” I can’t forget the way she fled from me after what happened in the gazebo on Friday night.
“Maybe you’re wrong. You should tell her how you feel. Be honest with her. And if she feels the same, you two might start something so wonderful and spectacular and out of this world.”
I sigh as I bend forward. “You really think I should tell her how I feel? Maybe I’m just confused and don’t understand anything.”
She rests her hand on my back. “I can’t tell you what to do. I can only advise and listen.” She pauses. “Do I know her?”
“No,” I quickly lie. “You don’t know her.”
From her expression, I think she knows exactly who I’m talking about. But she doesn’t call me out on it. “Noah, you don’t have to tell her how you feel, but if she feels the same way…”
I nod. “I know. We can start something special.”
There’s no denying that there is something between Evie and me. We didn’t kiss twice—or almost twice—for no reason.
But I’m starting to believe it’s not just teenage hormones.
She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, but it’s more than that.
I miss her when she’s not with me and I feel empty when she pretends I don’t exist. The feeling of her avoiding me Friday night was one of the most terrible things I’ve ever experienced.
Maybe Mom’s right. I have no idea why she ran from me, but if I don’t talk to her, I don’t know what could happen. If I don’t tell her how I feel, I’ll be left wondering what if for the rest of my life.
When I imagined a potential girlfriend, Evie never entered my mind. But everything is different now.
She’s the only one who enters my mind.
I smile at Mom. “Thanks so much. You gave me a lot to think about.” I get up and hug her. “Need help with laundry?”
“Sure, sweetie.”
***
The family wants Mikey’s for dinner.
After getting in my car, I head for the diner to pick up the food. It’s early in the evening and the place is mostly full. I’m about to make my way to the counter, but stop when I spot a girl with paint in her dark hair sitting at a table.
Evie.
Her back faces me, so I can’t see the expression on her face. Why is she here all by herself? Has she been thinking about what happened between us as much as I’ve been thinking about it?
My throat tightens as I watch her. After I had that talk with Mom, I went to my room, plopped down on my bed, and thought. About everything. And I decided I can’t just ignore what’s happening between Evie and me. We need to talk about it, figure things out.
And maybe if she feels the same way about me…
I was set on having that talk at school on Monday, but now that she’s here, sitting alone at a table, I figure now is as good a time as any.
I take a deep breath to calm my thumping heart, count to ten, squeeze my fists to my sides. I’ve never done something like this in my life, but I’m ready. I need to do this. And maybe something amazing might come out of this, like my mom said.
Moving one foot before the other, I’m about to walk over to her, but I freeze when a guy comes into my view. A guy sitting at her table, across from her. He was hidden before by a guest at another table.
He looks around college-age and…are they on a date?
Since I can’t see the look on her face, I don’t know if she’s having a good time. But I see him clearly. He smiles kindly at her, listens to what she says, and seems like a decent dude from what I can tell.
Since when does Evie date? She told me she’s not interested in dating in high school. And where in the world did she meet this guy?
Was she sitting alone at her table and the guy started flirting with her? Evie’s not one to be so taken by flirting. I just don’t understand.
But there’s one thing I do understand. Evie doesn’t feel for me the way I feel for her. The dance, the kiss, the almost kiss, it all meant nothing to her. If she could move on to another guy two days after we shared a special moment in that gazebo, then I get the message.
I can’t believe I was minutes away from making a complete fool of myself by expressing my feelings for her.
Shaking my head and the feelings away, I whirl around, making my way to the counter. “Order for Barrington,” I tell the guy.
As I wait for him to get my food, I turn toward Evie’s table and find her eyes locked on mine.