26. Zoey
26
Zoey
“ Z oey,” Ms. Lennon, my biology teacher, says from her desk, and my head snaps up to find her signaling me to come to the front of the class.
My brows furrow as I make my way through the single-spaced desks, trying to go over everything that could have possibly resulted in me getting called out in class, but I come up blank. Apart from being a little behind on homework for a few weeks, I’ve been a perfect student.
As I reach her, I see a smirk resting on her lips, clearly knowing where my mind has gone, but she quickly puts me at ease when she hands me a slip of paper. “Chill out,” she laughs. “I just need you to dash down to the student office and ask for twenty copies of this worksheet.”
“Oh,” I say, letting out a heavy breath, trying to ease my racing heart. “I thought I was in trouble.”
Ms. Lennon’s brow arches. “Is there something you should be in trouble for?”
I let out an unladylike scoff. “Only my taste in the opposite sex,” I mutter, my mind instantly going to Noah. It’s been almost two weeks since he stood before me in my bedroom, promising that he’s always been mine, and since then, I’ve been a wreck. He’s tried to talk to me a few times, but for once, I’m the one keeping him at arm’s length. He knows that I’m just waiting for him to tell me what he wants, but he’s not ready, and I’m not going to allow him to rush into this. That wouldn’t be fair for either of us.
We’re both very different people than we were three years ago. So much has happened, and so much has changed. Our hearts are no longer the same, and there’s a lot we need to figure out before we can come together.
With the worksheet in my hand, I turn on my heel and hightail it out of the classroom before Ms. Lennon gets a chance to question me on my comment. She’s not exactly the nosey type, but if there’s something she feels she can help a student with, she’s always more than willing to give advice. Most of the time, it’s welcomed, but where Noah Ryan is concerned, the only advice I want to follow is the one coming from deep inside my chest.
The school corridors are deserted with most of the students locked away in their classrooms, and it’s one of the most peaceful times I’ve had walking these halls. The bullshit I get from Shannan has died down since the football game, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been lingering effects. She sneers at me at every opportunity, and while others haven’t got the memo and continue to chant trash at me, I try to keep my frustrations hidden from Noah. He’s struggling enough as it is.
Making my way into the student office, I pause, my heart coming to an abrupt stop as I spy Noah sitting in the chair outside the counselor’s office. He leans forward, his elbows braced against his knees as his head hangs low between his shoulders. From the look of it, he’s just finished his session, and I can only assume that Mrs. Thompson touched on some hard topics today.
Everything shatters within me, and I war with myself, wondering if I should go to him or leave him alone with his thoughts. Walking over to Dorris, the student office admin, I hand her the worksheet and explain what Ms. Lennon wants, expecting Noah’s head to whip up at the sound of my voice, but he doesn’t even flinch. It’s as though he’s so lost inside his own torment, he can’t escape.
Dorris shuffles off to make the copies, and I hesitate, but when it comes down to it, if Noah needs me, I’ll always be there.
Making my way toward him, my heart races, but I don’t stop until I’m stepping right into him, settling myself between his knees as my fingers brush through his hair. “Are you alr—”
I don’t even get to finish my question before his arms are around me, pulling me into him as he presses his head against my torso, taking deep, shaky breaths. I wrap my arm around the back of his head as the other hangs over his shoulder and down into the center of his back. My fingers roam over his back, giving him the time he needs to make the pain go away.
We stay there for minutes, or it could be hours, I don’t know. I hear Dorris calling for me, saying she’s got Ms. Lennon’s worksheets ready, but I don’t move. I can’t.
At some point Principal Daniels strides out of his office, and after a brief chat with Dorris and a lingering glance toward us, he takes the worksheets down to Ms. Lennon’s classroom himself.
My hand never stops moving across Noah’s back, needing this moment almost as much as he does. Then all too soon, his breathing evens out and he drops his hands to my hips before pulling back, putting just a little bit of space between us.
Noah lifts his gaze, meeting my stare, and the pain hidden beneath the surface almost drops me to my knees. I haven’t seen him like this since Linc’s funeral, since the moment right before I lost him.
Reaching out, I brush my fingers across the top of his brow and down the side of his face until I feel the roughness of his stubbled jaw. “Are you okay?” I whisper, not wanting Dorris to overhear our conversation.
Noah silently shakes his head, but as he gives me a small, broken smile, I take that as my cue to give him privacy. “Okay,” I tell him. “You know where to find me if, you know . . .”
He nods, and I go to walk away, but the second I take a step, he catches my hand and pulls me back. “Don’t,” he says with such heaviness in his tone. “Don’t go.”
I move toward the seat beside him, and as I turn to drop down onto it, he pulls me onto his lap instead. I immediately settle in, not willing to question it or tell him no, because honestly, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. My arm loops around his neck as he holds me to him, one hand on my thigh, the other securely around my back.
He’s silent for a while, and I just sit here with him, waiting until he’s ready.
“I killed him, Zo,” he says, that darkness radiating out of his chest and consuming us both. “That day. I sent him away. He was walking down that road because of me.”
His pain and guilt feel like a fist closing around my chest and squeezing until I can’t breathe, but I simply wrap my arms tighter around him, hating that he’s harbored this type of agony for three long years.
Adjusting myself on his lap, I twist to face him, curling my hands around the back of his neck, my thumbs stretching around to rest against his strong jaw. “Linc’s death wasn’t your fault. You’re not responsible for what happened to him. He was hit by a drunk driver—that asshole who willingly got behind the wheel after impairing his senses. He is responsible for this, and he’s rotting in a cell just as he should be. He took Linc’s life, not you. It was his decision to drive after he’d been drinking, his bad call is what took Linc away from us.”
Something breaks in his eyes, and the guilt is almost too much to bear, but I’ll bear it for him if it means lessening the pain that suffocates him. “Zo,” he breathes, holding my stare. “I. Sent. Him. Away. I told him to fuck off and go home because I wanted to be with you. All he wanted was to toss a fucking ball in the park, and I sent him away .”
“Yes, you sent him away, told him to get lost, and you have every right to feel guilty for those things. You’re allowed to have regrets for how that day panned out and wish you could have done things differently, but what you’re not going to do is shoulder the blame for someone else’s actions,” I tell him, holding his gaze and waiting for those words to sink in before continuing. “Linc loved you so much. He thought the whole world shone out of your ass, and I can guarantee that the whole time he was making his way back home, he would have been muttering to himself about how much of an asshole you were and planning some ridiculous revenge prank. But you and I both know that he wouldn’t have blamed you, and I’m sure that if he could, he’d be haunting your ass and kicking you in the shin every time those intrusive thoughts plagued your mind.”
Noah scoffs, a small smile kicking up the corner of his mouth, and I lean in, gently brushing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re going to be okay, Noah. I know it hurts,” I tell him, pushing my fingers back through his hair. “The second you realize that you don’t need to hold on to all of this guilt, I’ll be right here, ready to celebrate your brother’s memory with you the way he deserves.”
He nods and curls his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in until my forehead rests against his. “He’d like that, wouldn’t he?” he mutters, his tone much lighter now. “He always loved when people bragged about him.”
A wide grin stretches across my face, remembering it so clearly. “He really did.”
A door opens behind us, and I glance back to find the school counselor, Mrs. Thompson, stepping out of her office and doing a double take when she finds Noah still here. She pauses, watching us through a narrowed stare, her brow arching as Noah lets out a heavy sigh. “Don’t think for one second that you can ask me about this at our next session.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she says, clearly making a mental note to do just that.
“What’s the matter?” I tease, nudging Noah. “You don’t want to talk about me?”
Noah scoffs. “Baby, I talk about you every fucking chance I get.”
My cheeks flame, and as Noah’s hand squeezes my thigh, I drop my gaze, unable to handle the look in his eyes, and the way he called me baby circles my mind on repeat. He’s called me every name under the sun, but something about that just felt so . . . intimate.
Seeing me scramble for words, Mrs. Thompson cuts in. “I haven’t seen you in my office for a while, Zoey. How are you doing?”
I give her a smile that quickly turns into a wicked grin. “I haven’t attempted to burn down any schools recently, so I must be doing alright.”
Noah groans, tipping his head back against the wall as Mrs. Thompson smiles back at me, her eyes dancing with a professional kind of laughter. “That’s the spirit,” she says, her gaze flicking toward Noah. “I’ve already got one arsonist to deal with. I don’t need another.”
She gives us each a warm smile before offering a slight nod and then walking away, giving us space to continue whatever this is, but honestly, I think we’re done.
Noah squeezes my thigh again, drawing my attention back to him. “So,” he says, his brows arched in question, but the way his eyes sparkle puts me on edge, knowing something’s coming. “Wanna skip fourth period and go make out in my car?”
My cheeks flame again when another voice cuts through the office. “Gee, Noah. Thanks for the offer,” Principal Daniels says, not even bothering to glance our way as he strides through the student office. “But I don’t think my wife would be down with me taking on a boy toy right now. I’ll take the consolation prize of getting your asses to class though.”
“Fucking hell,” Noah mutters under his breath, shaking his head as Principal Daniels disappears down the hallway, probably heading to his office.
“NOW!” his voice rumbles over his shoulder.
My constant need for approval has me springing to my feet, my eyes wide with the mere idea of getting in trouble, and I grab Noah’s hand, pulling him up behind me. “Shit,” I breathe, glancing up at the clock and realizing I’ve been gone from class for far too long. “Ms. Lennon’s going to eat me alive.”
“Bullshit,” Noah murmurs, his hand low on my back as we make our way out of the student office. “Every single teacher in this school has their heads so far up your ass, they wouldn’t dream of getting you in trouble.”
I smile because he’s right, and as he meets my eye, all I can do is grin up at him. “Pays not to be an asshole,” I tell him. “You should try it sometime.”
“I’ll pass,” he says, walking me back down the hall despite the fact his economics class is in the opposite direction. “Besides, I have it on good authority that you like bad boys.”
I gape up at him. “Who the hell told you that?”
“Who do you think?”
I shake my head, not bothering to respond.
It seems I need to have a little chat with my sister when I get home.