Chapter Twenty-one
I am light and hopeful and damn fucking happy.
Five days. That’s how long it’s been since Noah confessed thinking I was asleep, five days since we both admitted that it’s been more all along, and it’s been five days of, well, bliss.
No pretending.
Just nights spent exactly like we used to, but with no restrictions or boundaries.
No lines drawn in the sand between us. Truly, nothing much has changed except his hands now find me every chance they get; his kisses are either soft and gentle, explorative, or desperate and full of yearning, a need to claim and taste and learn.
We’ve slept together every night, none of this bullshit of separate bedrooms, waking up alone and wishing to be next to the other but pretending we didn’t.
Man, we really fucking fumbled, didn’t we?
All this damn time.
Juggling my concept folder in one arm and my purse in the other, I jiggle the key in the door, waiting for the lock to click back. Rain is hammering against the back of my head, rumbles of thunder rolling through the clouds that tumble through the sky with the late summer storm.
My phone buzzes inside my purse just as I get the door unlocked and practically fall through it, escaping the downpour.
Shaking off my folder, I place it down and then my bags, moving quickly so I can pull out my cell. I already know it’s Noah.
God, I feel like a teenager all over again. I even have that light, butterfly feeling in my stomach, making my whole body tingle with excitement, the memories of how we met coursing through my mind.
Why did we have to move? I dip my head so I don’t make eye contact with any of the other students in the hall.
We’re all making our way to our next class so the halls are rammed to the edges, loud and crowded and I tuck my arms tighter around my books, holding them to my chest like they are a shield.
I get that my dad got a new job and everything, and it was way too good to pass up, but aren’t adults meant to know how damaging big moves like this can be?
I mean, I had to leave all my friends, everyone I had ever known, and for what?
A concrete jungle that has no color. Not like Nana’s garden anyway; that’s full of color, especially this time of year.
Spring has sprung, but I see no wildflowers or butterflies.
No buzzing bees hopping from one flower to the next. It’s all rather depressing.
I’ve been here almost a month, and I haven’t made a single new friend. If I weren’t so annoyed at this whole move bullshit, I’d be sad and probably crying into a bag of chips.
I find my next classroom, but I have time so dip into the girls’ bathroom before I have to sit through an hour of Mr. Edwards getting off track and telling his students his entire life story instead of teaching us Math like he’s supposed to.
At least I know who to blame when I fail my exams, not sure my parents will believe me though.
The bathroom is mostly empty, save for a couple of cheerleaders who pay me no mind as I stop in front of one of the mirrors to make sure I don’t have any broccoli in my teeth after lunch.
When I started high school, I one hundred percent saw myself as a cheerleader.
Those outfits are so damn cute, but alas, I do not have the flexibility or the nerve to do what they do.
What do you mean I have to trust someone to throw me in the air and catch me?
No, thank you. I’ll pass and watch on in awe instead.
Once I’ve triple-checked that my teeth are in fact clean, I gather up my things just as the bell rings and head out of the bathroom, keeping my head low once again.
Just gotta make it through the semester and then summer is all mine.
I turn to head to class, but since I’m not looking where I am going, I don’t see the six-foot wall in front of me until he’s reaching out to stop me from walking right into him.
It’s a shock. I haven’t spoken to a single other human in this school since I started, managed to get through each day as if I am invisible, and it’s like I’ve completely forgotten that other people exist and how I should react in front of them.
I’m not sure I can even name the kind of noise that leaves me. Is it a squeal? A scream? A grunt? Who the hell knows? But I definitely just embarrassed myself with it after jumping like three feet into the air.
“Whoa,” the guy laughs, “Easy now.”
“Where did you come from!?” I gasp, clutching my chest as I look up and up and up and meet a set of stormy gray eyes and a cute—no, hot—face. Chiseled cheekbones and a strong jaw, dressed in ripped black jeans and a sweater, a pair of biker boots on his feet.
He hikes a thumb over his shoulder, “That way.”
“I didn’t see you.” I manage to get my breathing under control and step out of his hold.
“You know you chirped?” He cocks his head, a tendril of dark hair falling over his forehead.
“Chirped?” I scoff, “I did not chirp.”
“You totally did,” he grins at me, and I’m pretty sure my heart skips a few beats. Maybe I’m having a heart attack. Is this what that feels like? I don’t know! We haven’t covered it yet in that first-aid class I decided to take for extra credit.
“I did not,” I clutch my chest.
“It was cute.” He shrugs, “Name’s Noah.” He shoves his hand out to me, “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
A whole kaleidoscope of butterflies erupts in my stomach at the way he is looking at me.
“Yeah,” I reply lamely and take his hand. “How’d you know?”
He chuckles, “I’d remember your face.”
Oh my god.
The final bell rings, and he promptly lets go of my hand, head tilting up to look behind me to where a couple of kids are yelling. “Well, see you around, cricket.”
He steps around me, arm brushing mine.
“Cricket?” I call to him.
He turns and starts to walk backwards, that grin that made my stomach flutter returning. “Well, you never told me your name, and you chirped just like one. It fits.”
“Sidney,” I say, “my name is Sidney.”
“Pretty, but I think cricket may stick.” He winks and then turns, leaving me to stare after his towering figure long after the halls empty and I become late for class.
The memory has my skin flushing. The day after that, he found me during lunch and sat with me, and then walked me to class. That continued for a week, and then two, and then a month, and it just never stopped. We have been inseparable since then.
For that first year of our friendship, whenever I looked at him or even got close, it made my stomach flutter with nerves and excitement. Eventually that settled, our friendship forcing those feelings away, though they never left. I know that.
And to think he felt the same.
All this time.
All this damn time we’ve been pretending to be just friends, lying to ourselves and to each other because we were both too fucking terrified of what might happen to our friendship.
I finally look down at the text message on my cell and press my hand to my stomach as if I can somehow ease the giddy kind of feeling rising up that makes me want to squeal.
Noah: I’m taking you on a real date tonight, cricket.
No warm beer and pizza for us. What do you say?
Dinner and a movie? Maybe some ice cream
down at the park?
Me: A real date, you say? Will you kiss me
goodnight if I ask nicely?
Noah: I’ll kiss you anytime you
want, cricket.
Me: I’d love to go on a date.
Noah: Pick you up at seven.
Wear the red dress. It drives me crazy.
Me: I’ll take it into consideration.
Noah: What do I have to do to get the red dress?
I pull my lip between my teeth and glance at the door, the rain still coming down in torrents. Grinning, I reply and then put my cell down to actually get on with some work.
Me: How about you bring back the sun?
I hear my cell buzz with his reply but choose to wait to look at it.
I need to get this concept design together for Thea ahead of meeting her later.
The idea came to me in the middle of the night two days ago, and I have been itching to get it together; I just had to wait for all the pieces to come in, which they did late yesterday.
She has no idea what I have in store for her, but that’s how I wanted it.
A surprise that nods to her background and career.
Getting to work on the piece, I lose myself to the colors and textures, arranging each part strategically so there’s both a clash of color and a smooth transition from one point to the next.
Once I have all of it arranged, I finish it with a hessian wrap and tie it together with a dusty pink satin ribbon.
It’s tiny in comparison to what Thea wants for the day, but it shows exactly what she could have, and it’s different—the more she was asking for without going overboard or giving it too much.
With an hour to go before I’m due to meet her, I get it packed up safely so I can transport it and then lock up shop, ducking through the rain and into the cab I ordered to take me to my meeting, finally pulling out my cell to check my messages from Noah.
Noah: That can be arranged, Sid. I’ll bring
the warmth; you wear the dress. Deal?
Me: I’m curious to know how you’re going
to bring the warmth, but you
have yourself a deal, Calahan. I’ll wear the dress.
There’s no end in sight for the rain to stop; the sky is still as gray as it was when I got to work this morning. Tires splash through puddles, and a sea of colorful umbrellas take up the sidewalks.
The car pulls up to the hotel, and I get out, rushing inside to where it’s dry. I’m shown through to the same meeting room as before, again empty since I’m early and the first one here. I get everything set up, fiddling with the design while I wait.
Behind me, the door opens, and I hear the clip of shoes against the floor. Turning, I expect to find Thea or even her grandmother coming in, but instead it’s a face I haven’t seen for months.
“Isaac?” I frown, staring at the man I almost went on a date with.