Chapter Thirty-Five
Evie
Noah and I decide to cancel band practice for today so we can work on the new song. He’s been doing okay writing it on his own, but he’d like my input.
He and I have had pretty busy schedules today, so we didn’t say much to each other during school.
Which I was really happy about because every time I see him, my palms get clammy and my heart races.
A part of me convinces me to make up an excuse to not hang out with him, but I want to hang out with him, even though it makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.
We get together at my house because our moms are having their book club at his house and we don’t want to disturb them. They don’t have as much time to dedicate to the club as they’d like, so they cherish every chance they get.
“Maybe we should have started our own book club like our parents and siblings,” I say to Noah as I drop down on a chair at my desk.
Noah drags over a second chair. “Us and what army?”
I shrug. “Can’t it just be us?”
He laughs softly. “We’d argue over everything.”
“True.” I scoot over so he can have more room.
“Thanks.” He reaches into his backpack and produces his lyrics notebook. “I think it’s pretty solid. I just need help with a few lines.”
“I’m all yours.” I freeze. “I mean, I’m all yours as in you have my undivided attention.”
“I know what you meant,” he assures me.
My heart starts to pound at his close proximity. I find myself staring at his profile. I never realized before that he has such cute ears…
He turns his head, and I quickly look away, clearing my throat and tapping my pen against my desk.
“Here’s the part.” He slides his notebook a few inches to the left so it sits between us. “Any suggestions?”
He’s right—the song is pretty solid. Truth is, the parts he needs help with are perfectly fine in my opinion. But I suppose there’s always room for improvement. So we spend the next few minutes playing around with different words, trying to find the perfect ones that will strike a punch.
He grins as he makes some corrections. “I almost forgot how great it is to work with you. You really do add a whole layer of depth to the songs.” He keeps his eyes on his notebook. “I’ll miss this.”
I’m as still as a statue. What does he mean by that?
He shakes his head. “Anyway, what do you think about this verse?”
After working for another ten minutes, Noah suddenly asks, “So how was your date last night?”
“Oh…um…” I shrug. “It was fine. Good.”
He nods slowly, then turns his attention back to his notebook.
“I ended things with him.”
He turns his head to me so fast I fear it may snap off his neck. “You did?”
I nod.
“Why?”
Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
I shrug casually. “He’s not the right one for me.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry about that.”
I playfully narrow my eyes. “Are you really?”
He presses his lips tightly together, as though something is bursting to come out. But then he shakes his head. “I told you I want you to be happy.”
“But not with Cam. You don’t want me to go out with an older guy,” I tease. “Anyone less than twelve months older than me is fine, and so is anyone younger than me. But older than twelve months? Scandalous.”
Noah cringes, then chuckles. “Yeah, that was silly, huh?”
“Yes.”
He laughs again. So do I.
Then my cheeks lower to their natural position as I sit forward in my seat. “Actually, there’s a reason why I ended things with him.”
“There is?” he asks as he looks straight into my eyes.
My tongue gets stuck to the roof of my mouth. Tell him, my mind—no, my heart—begs. Tell him. Maybe he feels the same. And if he does? Oh my gosh, what would that mean?
I shoot to my feet. “I need a snack. You want anything?”
He shrugs. “Maybe some nuts if you have.”
“Sure. But I’m going to get you some candy, too.”
I hurry out the door, but he calls, “Evie?”
I stop in the hallway and backtrack to my room. “Yeah?”
“Do you mind if I clean up a bit? Sorry, but it’s driving me a little crazy.”
I playfully roll my eyes. “Why am I not surprised? Okay, if you must there’s a pile of papers over there you can throw out.”
A huge grin takes over his face as he gathers the pile.
In the kitchen, I press my back to the fridge, seeing nothing but Noah’s face. The light in his eyes when he smiles at me, the way my heart thumps whenever I’m around him. How sweet and caring he is, even when I don’t deserve it.
I need to tell him how I feel. What’s the point of holding back?
But what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I make a big fool of myself?
But what if I don’t tell him and I miss out on something that could be amazing? Noah wanted to kiss me just as much as I wanted to kiss him. That has to mean something, right?
I gather some snacks and make my way upstairs to my room, where Noah is on his knees before the shredder, happily shredding my papers. Geez, does he really get such a kick out of shredding paper? Why do I find that cute?
“I insist you eat some candy,” I say as I drop everything on my bed. “I’m telling you, sugar fuels the mind—” My lips snap shut when my eyes shoot to the empty area on my desk. Where only minutes ago were piles of papers.
“Wait a second.” I dart to my desk and start moving papers around. “Where is it?”
Noah looks up from where he’s shredding the last of my papers. “What?”
“Where is it?!” I frantically push papers around. “What did you do with it?”
“Evie, what are you—?”
“You shredded it?” My movements are more frantic as I throw all the papers on my desk around, desperately searching for it. “It’s not here! Noah, you shredded it!” Tears pour out of my eyes and rain down my cheeks like a thunderstorm.
“Evie.” Noah moves closer to me. “What are you talking about?”
“There was a photo of my grandparents!” I cry, more tears splashing down my cheeks. “One of the only ones that survived the fire. It was one of the only photos my dad has of his parents! I borrowed it because I wanted to paint a painting and give it to him as a gift, but you destroyed it!”
Noah’s face goes completely pale. “I’m so sorry, Evie! I didn’t know—”
“Why did you touch my stuff? I told you over and over again that I like the mess. That I need the mess. And now you destroyed one of the only things my dad has left of his parents!”
“I’m sorry.” He reaches for me, but I pull away. “You said I could clean up that pile—”
“I didn’t mean that pile! It was the one next to it!”
“Evie…” He tries to reach for me again, but I yank myself away.
“Leave,” I whisper.
“Evie—”
“I said, leave!”
It looks like he wants to say more, but he nods and steps back. “Okay. I’m really sorry.” He turns around, sweeps his bag off the floor and his lyrics notebook off my desk, and walks out.
I fall on my bed and sob. Not only am I upset that I lost the photo and can’t complete my painting for my dad, but now he no longer has that photo of his parents.
I feel so rotten for taking that away from him.
Why did I let Noah clean up? Why does he have this need to be so neat and tidy?
If he wasn’t like that, my dad would still have that photo.
I don’t know how long I remain crying on my bed like this, but after some time, my tears dry up.
Along with feeling guilty for losing the photo, I feel guilty for the way I treated Noah.
He’s not entirely at fault. I knew how important that photo was and I should have put it in a safe place.
Not stashed it with all the other junk on my desk.
Noah couldn’t have possibly known that it was important.
After a while, I hear my parents downstairs. Mom must have returned from her book club and Dad must have returned from work. I need to tell my dad what happened. He’ll be so hurt.
When I get downstairs, I find the two of them laughing at something. In just a few minutes, my dad won’t be smiling anymore. He’ll be so devastated.
He notices me standing in the doorway, and his face fills with concern. “Evie, what’s wrong? It looks like you’ve been crying.”
“Dad…” I rush into his arms. “I’m so sorry. It was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to get destroyed.”
“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” he asks.
Mom rubs my back. “Take a deep breath and tell us what’s bothering you, Evie.”
“It’s the photo of your parents. The one I borrowed from you. There was an accident and it got destroyed.”
“Is that all?” Dad pulls back to look into my eyes. “That’s what you’re so worried about? I thought something terrible happened.”
“But something terrible did happen! It’s one of the only things that survived the fire. You barely have any photos of your parents. And it got destroyed because of me.”
“The memories I have of my parents are held right here.” Dad points to his heart. “Where I’ll cherish them forever. And you don’t have to worry about losing the photo. It was just a copy.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“It was just a copy. I have many more copies, and the original is in a safe place.”
“Wait…what?”
“I suggested your dad make copies,” Mom explains. “Because the photo is so precious to him and I didn’t want anything to happen to it.”
“So…so…so I yelled at him for nothing?”
“Yelled at who, sweetie?” Mom asks.
I’m barely looking at my parents as my head spins. “Even if it was the original and there were no other copies, I shouldn’t have yelled at him. I suck.”
“Evie? What are you talking about?” Dad asks.
“Never mind.” I hug Dad again. “I’m so glad you have more copies.”
I run up to my room and call Noah. But he’s not answering. I try a few more times. Nothing.
I chuck my phone aside, my eyes brimming with new tears. I can’t believe I yelled at him like that.
***
The first thing I do when I arrive at school the next day—early again—is scan the hallway for Noah. But I can’t find him anywhere. That’s weird. Maybe he’s volunteering in the art room again? But when I get there, the place is empty.
I was up all night because I felt bad for yelling at him and kicking him out of my room. He didn’t answer any of my calls and I didn’t want to just send him an apology text because I want to talk to him.
But how can I apologize when he’s not even here? I figure I’ll busy myself with my phone as I wait for him to get here.
When there are ten minutes left before class starts, I get worried. It’s not like him not to be here. Is he avoiding me because of yesterday? Noah wouldn’t miss school for something like that. The guy’s crazy about his perfect attendance.
My eyes light up when I spot Chloe at her locker, surrounded by her friends and their boyfriends. Rushing over, I excuse us and pull her aside.
“Hey, Evie. What’s up?” she asks. Her eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Is Noah here?”
She rolls her eyes. “No. He’s at home, sleeping.”
My eyes bug out. “Sleeping? Is he sick?”
“No. He was up all night trying to tape together some shredded paper or something. I don’t know, but I told him over and over that it’s almost impossible to put it back together, but he refused to listen.
He stayed up all night. And this morning when Mom tried to wake him up, he was dead tired and couldn’t move. ”
I gawk at her. Noah tried to tape the photo back together? And he stayed up all night?
“But what about his perfect attendance?” I ask.
She shrugs. “The dude wouldn’t have been able to stay awake for five minutes. It’s good he decided to stay home and catch up on his sleep. But he’s still a dummy.”
No. He’s not a dummy. He must have asked one of my siblings to bring him the bag of shredded paper and tried to tape the pieces together. He wanted to fix his mistake, to make me happy because he knew how important the photo was to my dad.
No one has ever done something like that for me. No one has sacrificed his health and sleep to try to make me happy.
“I need to go to your house,” I blurt to Chloe.
Her eyebrows knit. “Huh? But classes are about to start.”
“Please, Chloe. It’s important. Do you have a key I can use to get into your house?”
“Evie, what’s going on?”
I push some hair off my forehead. “I need to talk to Noah. It can’t wait, please.”
She rummages in her backpack. “Okay, but he’s probably still sleeping.”
“That’s fine.”
She looks like she wants to ask more questions, but the bell rings.
She places her set of keys in my hand, I thank her, then I dash out of the school building before anyone can see me.
After quickly getting in my car, I drive as fast as I can to Noah’s house.
It’s silly because he’s still sleeping and no one from school is following me. But I need to get there.
After parking in the driveway, I stab the right key into the lock and push the door open. The place is so quiet, like no one is here.
Slowly, I make my way up the stairs, careful not to wake him. I wish the poor guy wouldn’t have gone through all that trouble for me.
Once I reach his room, I find him sprawled on one side of his bed.
He looks so at peace when he sleeps. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him sleep, but it’s different now.
Maybe because I see him differently. All I want to do is hold him and tell him how much it means to me that he tried to save the photo.
Lifting his blanket, I slide in next to him, pressing myself close to him but making sure not to wake him.
I’ve never been in his bed before, but it’s very comfortable.
Peaceful, like nothing could harm me. Is it weird that I feel like this is where I want to be?
And not just for now. I see myself waking up next to him many, many, many, many more times.
He shifts on the bed, rolling around but keeping to his corner. It’s like his body knows I’m here even though he doesn’t.
He faces me now. I scoot closer to him, gently pushing some hair out of his eyes. Then I lower my head to his chest, close my eyes, and enjoy the sound of his steady heartbeat.