CHAPTER 6 A KISS BEFORE DYING
A KISS BEFORE DYING
Caleb drops me and Noah off in front of Ithaca Falls, just a few blocks from my house.
January in Ithaca brings with it a sometimes biting cold, made all the more intolerable by the gusty winds that roll off Cayuga Lake.
The waterfalls are beautiful in the summer but in the winter, when the water freezes, the entire thing looks like it belongs on another planet.
Tendrils of ice form on the face of the falls; giant icicles cling to the rocky facade.
I’ve lived in Ithaca most of my life, walk past the falls every day, and it still stirs a sense of awe in me.
A gust of wind snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Shiiiiit,” I say through chattering teeth. “I love it here but maybe we should’ve had Caleb just take us back to my place.”
Noah grabs my arm and pulls me onto the secluded path that leads to the base of the falls. The birch trees have long since lost their leaves, but their trunks are crowded together so tightly they offer a little shelter from the wind.
“This cold is disrespectful,” I say. “I’m about to start wearing a snowsuit like when I was little.”
Noah chuckles as he pulls me close and gazes up at a wall of stones that reaches high over our heads. People have written their names on the faces of the rocks, others have left messages.
“Have we put our initials on this?” Noah asks.
“No,” I say.
Most of the graffiti is written in Sharpie or ink but Noah picks up a small rock and scratches our initials onto a stone.
“There,” he says. “Perfect.”
“That’s gonna wash away when it rains or snows,” I say.
Noah smiles. “That’s okay. We’ll know it was there. That’s all that matters.” He reaches up about a foot over his head and sets the rock on a small ledge.
It’s a nice sentiment and Noah is really good at pointing out little stuff like that.
It reminds me of my own job and how what I told Caleb was true—the things we do aren’t permanent or lasting or meant to do anything other than make people feel better in the moment.
This moment with Noah, our names etched on a rock that no one may ever know about except for us, is just like that.
But it’s okay. It still counts. It’s still worth something. It still matters.
“Remember last summer when Caleb found a leech on his back after we went swimming over here?” I ask.
We’d spent so many of our summer days at the natural pool near the base of the falls just hanging out and doing nothing.
I was always a little too wary of weird stuff in the water to get all the way in, but Caleb and Noah didn’t care.
Noah claps his hand over his mouth as he laughs. “I told him it was stuck on him and he just started screaming.”
“We literally had to hold him down to get it off,” I say. “He didn’t go back in the rest of the summer.”
“I don’t blame him,” Noah says. “But I’m gonna make him come back over here when it warms up. He’s gotta get over it at some point.”
“He’s never going back in the water.”
Noah’s mouth twists into a sly grin. “We’ll see. I bet I can convince him. Maybe we get what’s-his-name to come out here too.”
“Jeremy?” I ask. “What are you? A matchmaker?”
“Maybe,” Noah says. “Just go with it, Meeks. Watch me work my magic. After I get them two together, I’m going to get Cip to break up with that bum Moses—”
“His name’s Peter,” I say, laughing.
“You know who I mean,” Noah says.
We’re both laughing so hard we fall all over each other. As I try to find my footing, Noah leans in close and kisses me. I want to stay in this moment forever but the wind whips across my face again and takes my breath away almost as much as Noah does.
“Cold?” he whispers against my lips.
“A little,” I say.
“You’re trembling,” he says softly.
“That’s not from the cold,” I say.
He kisses me again and we could be in a blizzard for all I know. Nothing else really matters.
“We should get out of here before you freeze to death,” Noah says.
“Let me,” I say. “I just wanna stay here with you.”
Noah scoops me up and trudges up the little hill.
I hold fast to his neck, laughing, hoping he doesn’t slip on the ice because if he falls, we’re both done.
I glance over his shoulder and see that someone has taken our place at the wall of stones and is gazing up at it.
They’re tucked inside a big brown coat and I can’t see their face.
This person’s head is nearly level with the ledge where Noah had put our rock.
Another gust of wind slaps me across the cheek and I squeal as Noah deposits me on the sidewalk, then grabs my hand and rushes me down the street.
We trek toward my house with our heads bowed against the gusty air.
As we turn onto East Court Street, Noah grins, little flecks of snow sticking in his dark brows and lashes.
“What’s funny?” I ask.
Noah shrugs. “I just—it’s just wild how this cold is about to make me run inside your house, dead bodies be damned.”
A flurry of snow sweeps over us, and Noah grabs my arm, all but dragging me up the front steps of my house.
A necklace of icicles hangs from the ebony trim of the roof two floors above, and Noah eyes them cautiously as I fish around in my bag for my key.
I finally find it, but my fingers are stiff from the cold.
“Any day now, Meeks,” Noah says as he bounces from one foot to the other. “I’m freezing my nuts off.”
I fumble the key—not from the cold this time—but recover before Noah notices.
Before I can put it in the lock, my mom pulls the front door open.
She’s dressed in a pair of wide-leg pants and a billowy gray blouse, her silk press perfectly coiffed, her winged eyeliner sharp. She jumps, letting out a little squeak.
Her gaze flits to Noah and her mouth turns up. “Noah, baby! Where you been hiding?” She lets go of me and pulls Noah into an embrace. He’s so much taller than her that she looks like a little kid next to him.
“You’re not busy are you?” Noah asks as he eyes the front room.
My mom pats his arm. “Don’t worry. There’s nobody in there right now but we are expecting a . . . ?delivery.” She turns to me. “I hate to have you working while you’ve got company, baby, but I’m gonna need your help later.”
“No, I know,” I say. “It’s okay. Is it all right if we go upstairs?”
Mom looks Noah over from head to toe. “You know the rules.”
“Ma’am, I’m not tryna end up on one of your little tables in the basement,” Noah says.
Mom pats his shoulder. “Follow my rules and we won’t have any issues, baby.”
Noah looks like he wants to disappear into the ether, so I take him by the hand and retreat to my room, where I leave the door wide open and remind him that he can’t sit on my bed.
Mom’s rules and mine too. Noah takes off his coat, cuts on the little heater in the corner and sits down right in front of it, rubbing his hands together.
The baseboard heating in houses as old as mine isn’t enough to contend with the central New York winters, so my mom put a space heater in each room for when the temperatures dip.
I pull up music on my phone and connect it to my Bluetooth speaker.
The soft guitar and haunting vocals drift out.
“You’re obsessed with this man,” Noah teases. “I guess a six-foot-something Irish dude really does it for you, huh?”
I laugh. “Hozier is a beautiful man. I can’t even lie.” I sit down next to Noah and put my head on his shoulder.
“Yeah, okay,” Noah says, grinning. “The music’s good.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back as the music plays. “What’s this one talking about? It sounds kind of sad.”
The music echoes in my room and I close my eyes too. “It’s about feeling like there’s this distance between two people,” I say. “It’s like your biggest fear is being unknown or misunderstood by somebody you care about.”
I open my eyes and Noah is staring at me. His face very close to mine.
“You’re listening to this song because it’s beautiful, not because it feels true to you, right?” he asks.
I look away. Staring straight at him feels too vulnerable, too open. “Right.”
He runs his hand down my arm and my skin feels like it’s turned to fire under his touch. The rush of heat is almost too much. “I know you, Meeks,” he says. “You don’t ever have to worry about being unknown, at least not by me.”
My face flushes hot and I feel like I can’t quite catch my breath. “I know,” I say. “You’re not like Peter is with Cip.”
Noah scowls. “Because my mom raised me better than that. I don’t know what Peter’s problem is, but Cip deserves better. All she has to do is say the word. I’ll choke Peter out.”
I raise an eyebrow in surprise. Noah isn’t the fighting type. Protective, yes. Able to actually throw hands? I don’t really know. I’ve never seen him do that.
“Okay, maybe not choke ,” Noah says. “Maybe just loudly remind him that he’s trash.” He lets the tips of his fingers trail along the side of my face and under my chin. “I’d never treat you like that. I can’t even imagine it.”
The warmth from the space heater and that little spark deep in the pit of my stomach is an overwhelming combination. I press a little closer to him and he presses right back. I imagine him kissing me. I imagine us doing much more than that but not here, not right now.
“Not gonna lie,” Noah says, switching gears and giving me a little bit of a breather. “I thought there was gonna be a body laid out in that front room.” Noah grimaces. “I am not prepared for that.”
“You know I’d never bring you over if there’s a viewing going on,” I say.
“No, I know,” Noah says, smiling shyly. “I’m trying to be better about it. I swear I am.”
I chuckle and nudge him with my elbow. “Seems to be a theme. First Caleb, now you? Cip will be next.”
“We all wanna support you, Meeks,” Noah says. “But I don’t think any of us are as cool with death as you are.”
“Most people aren’t,” I say. “But I can’t help it. It’s the way I was raised.”