22. Zoey
22
Zoey
T his week has sucked.
It’s the first Friday night football game of the season, and the whole school is buzzing with excitement—Tarni being the most excited of them all after Noah accidentally bumped into her in the hall and caught her by the waist so she wouldn’t break her nose against a locker. She’s been crushing on him since the moment he arrived at East View High, but these past few days have been intolerable. If only she knew that he had me up against the wall of my closet with his tongue down my throat and his body pressed so tightly against mine that I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.
Yeah, I think I’ll keep that little adventure to myself.
I can only imagine how the cheerleaders of East View will react if that snippet of information accidentally ends up in the wrong hands. They’ll turn that beautiful, passionate moment between me and Noah into something filthy, and I refuse to allow that to happen.
It’s been four long days since our kiss, and not a damn thing has changed. Well, I suppose that’s not entirely correct. While Noah has continued to watch over me from afar, it’s no longer done with hostility in his eyes. He doesn’t openly try to despise me, but he’s certainly still keeping his distance. I can only hope that this is the start of his walls beginning to crumble.
He’s starting to come back to me, and I’m terrified of the hope that surges through my chest every time I think about it, knowing that if he pulls back now and shuts me out, this time it’ll be for good. At least I’m prepared now. If he tries to shut me out, I’m going to hold on until he’s able to see that he’s right where he belongs, just like he would have done for me.
We haven’t said a word to each other since he slipped out of my bedroom window on Monday night. I knew things wouldn’t go back to normal so easily, but I didn’t expect my body to react to him every time he’s around. I’ve always wanted him, always knew how it felt to be in his arms, but now that we’re older, the way he held me was different, felt different.
The way he kissed me, the way his hunger burned in his dark eyes. Things have shifted. We’re not little kids playing dress-up anymore. It’s real now, and I just hope our relationship can get back to where it was always supposed to go.
My gaze flicks to the clock on my living room wall as I fidget with my phone on the armrest of the couch, flipping it over before flipping it right back.
I’m not going to his game. Not in a million years. Buuuuuut hypothetically, if I were to leave now, I’d be there with just enough time to get the best seats in the grandstand. Besides, if I did go, it would only be to show support for the school, which is really just the appropriate thing to do, right? It would have absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I’ve dreamed of being able to cheer Noah on from the sidelines like I used to. And it certainly has nothing to do with the overwhelming need to watch him race up and down the field with a sheer layer of sweat coating his tan skin, or watching the way his strong muscles flex as he launches the ball clear across the field.
God, no. It definitely has nothing to do with that.
But like I said—not in a million years. I’m going to park my ass right here all night with a bowl of popcorn and watch a movie. Perhaps I’ll watch a thriller, something to get my heart racing and my mind off the sweaty football player who will no doubt have the crowd chanting his name.
Ughhhh. I’m in so much trouble here.
Kissing Noah Ryan was the biggest mistake of my life. He’s destroyed me, and not in the tore my heart out and trampled all over it for three long years kind of way. No, he’s made me want something I can’t have. He made me crave him in a way I never have before, and that is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced.
God, I want him to kiss me again. I need it like my next breath.
Nope. No. I can’t think like that. I need to knock these traitorous thoughts out of my head. I need to calm myself. Perhaps a little meditation is in the cards for tonight, not that I have any idea how to do that. But what could it hurt? I’ll give it a try.
After pulling my legs up and crossing them on the couch, I try to force my feet up to rest on top of my knees before taking slow, deep breaths just like they do in the movies. Closing my eyes, I hold my hands out to my sides and try to clear my mind. I imagine the way each intrusive thought falls away, leaving my head fresh and clear. I slowly count to ten and back down again while focusing on my breathing. When I get back to zero, I open my eyes only to scream like a freaking banshee, finding Hazel standing right in front of me with a ridiculous grin on her face.
“WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING DONUTS ARE YOU DOING?” I screech, my heart racing out of my chest.
“You like?” she questions, indicating down her body before doing a spin, making my jaw fall right to the floor as I take in the Mambas’ football jersey with the name RYAN across the back, so similar to the ones I have stashed in a box, hidden deep within my closet, never to see the light of day again.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
“Where do you think?” Hazel says, her grin widening. “Noah came by yesterday after school and left it for me.”
A pang of jealousy blasts through me, poisoning my veins and leaving me feeling heavy, and I realize that this is the second time I’ve been jealous of Hazel and Noah’s friendship in less than a week. I’ve got to get a grip. “Okaaaay,” I say slowly, trying to give myself a second to push the ugly feelings away. “And why are you wearing it?”
“Because you’re taking me to Noah’s game.”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “That’s not going to happen.”
“He said you’d say that,” she tells me, her eyes sparkling with silent laughter.
“Oh really?” I question. “Dare I ask what else he said?”
She raises her chin, as smug as anything. “He said you were too chicken to show up to his game and that you’d sit right here on this couch watching some stupid movie you’re not even interested in like a stubborn ass all night.”
Well, crap. No one ever claimed that he didn’t know me, but that was far too close for my liking.
I arch my brow, gaping at my little sister. “He did not say that I was too chicken to go.”
“He sure did,” she challenges. “So, what’s it going to be? Shall I put some popcorn in the microwave so you can prove him right, or are we going to go and watch his game?”
Oh, hell no! I fly to my feet, scooping my phone up as I go. “Get your crap, Hazel. We’re going to the game.”
“YES!” she squeals, racing out of the living room and straight up the stairs, her feet thumping against the floor like a herd of elephants. “FOR THE RECORD,” she calls down the stairs. “HE SAID THAT CALLING YOU A CHICKEN WOULD WORK LIKE A CHARM.”
Ah, crap. I should have seen that one coming. If I stay home and watch movies all night, I’m proving him right. But if I take his bait and go to the game because I refuse to be called a chicken, I’m also proving him right.
Well played, Noah Ryan. Well played.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling into the overflowing parking lot of East View High and Hazel is bouncing in her seat, barely able to contain her excitement. After having to circle the lot twice, we finally find a parking space, and before I know it, Hazel’s dragging me toward the stands.
“ZOEY!” I hear my name called from the stands. My head whips up, finding Tarni waving her hands around with Abby and Cora beside her. “Up here.”
Hazel grins before practically pulling me up the stairs, and before I know it, we’re settled in beside Tarni and the girls as Hazel stares out at the field, watching in awe as people flood through the gates. They are all here to see Noah Ryan’s first game of the season.
It’s the kind of turnout one would expect for the championship game, and I can’t help the pride that resides in my chest. The cheerleaders’ pre-show hasn’t even started, and the crowd is already cheering wildly.
The stands are a sea of maroon and black to represent the Mambas, but there’s only one who’s special enough to wear Noah’s name on her back. Spotlights shine down on the field, bright enough to be seen from space, and music pounds through the speakers.
The only time I’ve ever really had an interest in football was . . . before, but this right here, it’s clear to see why people love it so much. You know, apart from the actual game. The atmosphere and overall mood of the night is such a vibe, it’s incredible. I even catch myself cheering as the anticipation of the game drums through my veins.
Before I know it, my mood plummets as the cheerleaders decide to grace us with an ass-shaking number, and while there’s no denying that they’re an incredible team, after the way they dumped their drinks all over me last Friday night and called me trash for almost two weeks straight, I can’t appreciate their moves down on the field.
They’re just wrapping up their routine when both teams bound out of the locker rooms, and the way the crowd throws themselves to their feet is simply incredible. Tarni grabs my hand and forces it into the sky as she screams out for Noah, cheering him on and deafening me in the process.
Hazel stands on her chair to get a better look and I find Noah immediately as a rush of nostalgia brutally slams right into my chest. I feel like I’ve taken a massive step back in time to being that little girl hovering at the sidelines, cheering so loud for Noah that her throat was raw by the end of the game.
He walks across the field with his helmet tucked under his arm, and as his gaze lifts to the stands, I almost drop to the dirty ground, knowing without even trying that his eyes will come directly to mine. And that’s exactly what happens, as if he’d followed that pull from the invisible string between us.
Noah’s gaze holds mine, and just like every other time he’s looked at me, I’m captivated. I can see the smugness in his eyes, knowing that I played right into the palm of his hand. He used Hazel to manipulate me into being here tonight, and I don’t doubt that Hazel knew exactly what she was doing. Their plan worked like a charm.