37. Zoey
37
Zoey
A year ago today, Noah blasted back into my world like a soldier on a mission, only at that point, neither of us had any idea what his mission actually was. Now, looking back on everything that came from the past twelve months, I almost can’t believe it.
It’s been a week since he left for college, and while he’s stuck to his word and called me every day, it hasn’t been the same. There’s nothing I hate more than distance, but if having mere scraps of him is what I need to survive over the next year, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.
I stare in my mirror.
Senior year.
I always thought that I’d be excited when this time came, but somehow, I just know this is going to be the hardest year of my life. Shannan has already let me know that she plans on rising back to the top this year, and I’m not going to lie, I was kinda hoping the humiliation of having to repeat her senior year would keep her down, but apparently, she’s not the type to learn from her mistakes. Or perhaps now that I don’t have Noah backing me at school, she will no longer see me as a threat. If that’s the case, I’ll be her favorite target all over again.
Then there’s Tarni.
I’ve known her too long not to assume that she isn’t going to try to work her way back into the spotlight. She likes the attention too much, and if she has to step on me to get in with Shannan and her followers, she will. The only difference is, she doesn’t have Abby and Cora backing her up anymore. Truth be told, I was kinda hoping that Abby and Cora might have grown up a little over the summer and wouldn’t completely hate it if I hung out with them. They were happy to drive me home from the lake party last week, but I’m almost certain they just felt sorry for me.
Letting out a heavy breath, I finish brushing through my hair and twist it up into a bun before backing up a few steps and dropping down onto the end of my bed. I’ve been so tired this week, and I keep telling myself that it’s just the emotional turmoil of being so far away from Noah, but there’s this little nagging feeling in the back of my mind warning me that it’s something more.
It’s not normal to be this tired, to wake up first thing in the morning feeling lethargic. Most nights this week I’ve gone to bed early after the dizzy spells hit, and damn it, it makes me so nervous.
I was only six when I was diagnosed with leukemia. I remember the day so clearly. It’s the day I forced Noah to fake propose to me in the backyard. Linc was three and running around doing his own thing, and Hazel was still just a baby.
Noah had gotten down on one knee, told me how beautiful I was, and then asked me to marry him. It was everything—until he decided he didn’t like my girl kisses. I suppose things really do change because now, it seems that my stupid girl kisses are his most favorite thing in the world.
It was maybe only an hour or so after that when my parents sat me down and told me what was happening to me, and I didn’t understand a single thing. They were telling me I was a very sick little girl, but I remember thinking they were wrong. I didn’t feel sick. I was fine, but the hell the doctors had in store for me . . .
I don’t ever want to go through that again. But this is different. This tiredness, this lack of energy . . . It has to be different, right?
Maybe I’m just imagining the whole thing just to keep myself from having to go to school. Besides, Mom takes me for regular tests, and in six months, I’ll hit the ten-year anniversary of being cancer-free.
The thought has my gaze shifting to the framed picture of me in that damn hospital bed. I feel a million miles away from that little girl. She was so strong. She knew exactly what she wanted in life and had the spirit and determination to fight for it. But that’s not me. I feel like that little girl is a ghost who lives inside of me now, slowly fading away and screaming to be heard.
Glancing toward the clock, I realize if I don’t leave now, I’ll end up being late for homeroom, and that’s not exactly how I want to start my first day of senior year.
Grabbing my things, I take off down the stairs, finding Hazel striding out of the kitchen with an apple in her hand. “You ready?” I ask.
She nods. “Mm-hmm,” she mumbles, clearly not thrilled about going back to school either, and with that, we walk out the door and down to my Range Rover.
I’m just backing out of the driveway when a call comes through Bluetooth, and Noah’s name appears on the screen. I press the little accept button on the steering wheel as I continue backing out onto the road. “I knew you’d be late,” his voice fills the car.
“I am not late,” I argue.
“Bullshit,” he mutters. “Hazel?”
“Oh yeah,” the little brat says, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “She’s definitely late. Had to skip out on breakfast and everything.”
“Babe,” Noah groans. “You need to eat.”
“I will,” I grumble, knowing damn well I don’t have time to stop and get something. It’ll have to wait, but it’s fine. It’s not like I’m planning on participating in an intense workout over the next few hours. I’ll be more than alright.
A nearly inaudible sigh comes through the phone, and I cringe, knowing exactly what’s coming. “You’re such a liar, Zoey Erica James.”
“Don’t you dare middle name me, Noah McAssCrack Ryan.”
“You did not just call me a McAssCrack.”
“Whatcha gonna do about it?” I throw back at him.
He laughs, and the sound wraps around me, thawing me from the inside out and giving me exactly what I need to make it through the day. We chat about boring things, but the second he hears me drop Hazel off at her school, the conversation shifts. “I fucking miss you, Zo,” he says, undeniable pain in his tone. “How are you doing?”
“Barely holding on,” I admit, being as honest as I can. “Every time I get in this car, I have to convince myself not to drive to you.”
“You can, you know,” he tells me. “I’ll drop everything, even if it’s only to hold you for two seconds.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I tell him. “Are you ready for classes to start?”
“I suppose,” he mutters, probably not giving a shit about his classes. “You?”
Despite him not being able to see me, I shrug in response. “I just want to make it through the door without being eaten alive.”
“Don’t let Shannan push you around, Zo. She’s a nobody with a bruised ego who has already peaked,” he tells me, and while he’s definitely right, it doesn’t make it any easier, especially considering that I’ll be walking in there without a single friend at my back. Shannan on the other hand will probably be trying out for cheer captain again and will inevitably become the most popular girl in school. I just hope that she’ll be spending the day more interested in figuring out which football protégé she’ll be digging her claws into.
“Yeah, easier said than done,” I tell him as I pull into the student parking lot of East View High, wishing I could be anywhere but here.
I sit and stare up at the school as the other students flood through the gates, most of them looking more than excited about being here and seeing all their friends again. “Zo, you got quiet on me,” he says. “You’re there, aren’t you?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah,” I groan. “I better get going.”
“Okay,” he says, a smirk in his tone. “For the record, I’ll still love you if you accidentally clock Shannan right in the face. After all, nothing puts a mean bitch in her place better than a broken nose, but if you’re going to punch her, remember your thumb goes on the outside. I can’t have you breaking your fingers. I’m gonna need them for when I see you next. Oh, and make sure someone records it because that’ll be the perfect addition to my spank-bank.”
My mouth drops as my cheeks flush the darkest shade of pink. “Noah!” I shriek.
He laughs. “Get your ass to homeroom, Zo,” he tells me. “You’re going to be fine, but if you just happen to have a moment where you feel like your world is falling apart, just think about how good it’s going to feel when I’m sliding inside of your sweet pu—.”
“Holy shit, Noah,” I flush. “I’m hanging up.”
“Bye, Zo,” he says in that deep, sultry tone. Then before I melt into a puddle right here in my car, I press the little red button to end the call, preparing to get out and make my way through the gates of hell.
T he bell sounds for lunch, and I quickly hurry out of Ms. Lennon’s classroom. While part of me loves that I have her again for my senior year, I hate that I now share this class with Shannan. She’s been in three of my classes so far today, which isn’t exactly how I wanted to start the day, but for the most part, all she’s done is sneer at me. Though I’m not foolish enough to think that’s all that’s coming my way.
I suppose I could always punch her right in the face—with my thumb on the outside of course—and call it an accident. I’ve got most of the faculty in my back pocket, especially Principal Daniels. He’s got a soft spot for me after Mom told him all about my past. He’s always looked out for me and made sure I was doing alright, even going out of his way to put Noah in his place this time last year.
Making my way down the busy corridor, I find my locker and start rifling through it, and by the time I close the door, my anxiety has started to build. I’ve been dreading this all day.
Checking my phone, I find a text from Noah with a picture attached, and I open it up to find an image of the incredible view of the Wildcats arena from right at the very top of the massive grandstand. A wide grin stretches across my face, knowing just how much he’d love that. This has always been his dream. At least, a very important stepping stone to the ultimate dream of playing for the NFL, which will be a whole new experience in itself, but I have no doubt that he’ll make it. He’s too good not too.
But the pictures I’ve been getting from him this week only go to prove that he’s in his zone right now. He’s exactly where he needs to be, and I need to do what I can to reel in my emotions because I don’t want to ruin this for him. I don’t want him to feel guilty every time he steps onto the training field. I want him to soak up every moment of college life and absolutely love it because he deserves no less. He put the work in to get where he wants to go, and I want to see him succeed with every part of my soul.
Leaning against my locker, I quickly shoot off a reply.
Zoey: That’s incredible! But I’m still waiting for my locker room pic. Preferably when everyone has just had their showers and they’re all dripping wet with towels low on their hips. Actually, scrap that, just take the pic with all of you sandwiched in those showers together. You know, I really wanna feel like I’m experiencing it right there by your side.
Resident Asshole: Don’t make me come down there, Zoey James. I’m not above bending you over my knee and spanking that bad behavior out of you.
I gape at my phone. He’s always been the biggest flirt with me, but he’s been on fire today, pushing the boundaries, and I absolutely love it.
Zoey: Noah McWashYourFilthyMouthOut Ryan, stop making me blush at school. You’re supposed to be a gentleman.
Resident Asshole: Let’s be honest, being a gentleman is boring. You prefer it when I’m throwing you up against a wall and fucking you until you scream.
Hooooooly shit.
Zoey: **skull emoji**
Zoey: I need a cold shower. Maybe two.
Resident Asshole: Yeah…me too.
I laugh and tuck my phone into my pocket before heading down the hallway with my head held a little higher, and it has everything to do with the suspicious timing of Noah’s texts. He’s been doing it all day, as if knowing exactly when I would need him to give me the strength to keep going. Even miles away, he’s still helping me get through the day.
No one ever claimed that Noah Ryan didn’t know the exact path to my heart.
Making my way into the cafeteria, I blow out a heavy breath, quickly scanning the room. The game plan—find Abby and Cora and hope for the best. Only I pause by the door when I find them sitting side by side at our old table with Tarni standing before them, easing her way right back in as though she didn’t spend the last year ostracized from the world.
Tarni says something else, and the next thing I know, the girls welcome her back in with open arms. She sits down on the opposite side of the table, and I feel myself starting to slip.
Shit.
“You new here?” a voice asks beside me.
My brows furrow as I turn to find an unfamiliar face staring back at me, and I shake my head as I take her in. She’s stunning, definitely someone who will have jaws dropping all over the school. She has the kindest smile I’ve ever seen, immediately putting me at ease. “Nah, just trying to figure out where the hell I’m supposed to fit in all of this,” I tell her, feeling as though I can be honest with her.
“Me too,” she says, sparing a glance toward the busy cafeteria, looking as though she’s about ready to pass out with nerves. “I’m Hope. I just transferred from St. Michael's and don’t know a single person.”
“Well, now you know me,” I tell her with a wide smile, wondering if she knew Noah back when he was a junior at St. Michael’s, raising hell all over campus. “Come on, we can be clueless together.”
Hope smiles back at me, relief in her eyes as she loops her arm through mine, and we stride across the cafeteria to the one empty table left in the room. We make ourselves comfortable, and as I give her the rundown of the school, I don’t miss the curious glances I get from Tarni across the room.
“Okay, so there’s probably a few things you need to know about this school before you decide to get too close to me,” I say, giving her a fair warning about what it will mean to be my friend. “I um . . . I’m dating last year’s quarterback, which kinda put me on the shitlist with the cheerleaders, and well . . . the cheer captain, Shannan. She was supposed to graduate but didn’t. So now she’s repeating her senior year, and I can guarantee now that Noah’s not here to scare her away, she’s going to try and make my life a living hell.”
“Shit,” she says, her brows arching. “She sounds like fun.”
“Oh yeah, she’s a real treat,” I tell her. “I’ve been mobbed in this very cafeteria too many times than I care to count. Not to mention, she trained the whole student body to chant trash every time I walked into a room last year.”
“That’s um . . . kinda terrifying, but also,” she says in a teasing voice, “props to her for having that kind of pull over such a big school. That’s certainly impressive.”
“I mean, I have other descriptive words for it, but sure, let’s go with impressive.”
Hope laughs, and her blonde ringlets fall over her shoulder, framing her pretty face. “Seriously though, I’m not into that shitty behavior. I find it embarrassing. People who act like that . . . I don’t know, they might as well be holding a sign above their heads saying I’m insecure. It’s not cool, and I’m sorry that you were tormented like that over something so silly as being with the person you love. At least, I don’t mean to make assumptions that you’re in love with this mystery boyfriend of yours, but like, are you?”
I laugh, a wide grin stretching over my face, and before I can even respond, Hope’s grinning right back at me. “Oh yeah. You’re definitely in love with this guy. What did you say his name was? Noah?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” I say. “Actually, you might know him. He would have been a senior at St. Michael’s last year, but he transferred.”
“Quarterback, you said?” I nod and she scrunches her face. “Maybe. But to be completely honest, I’m not into football. Now, those scrawny computer nerds with cute faces who blush every time a girl looks their way—Now that’s what I’m into. As for your boyfriend, the name kinda rings a bell, but I couldn’t put a face to the name even if I tried.”
I smile. The thought of having a friend who isn’t in love with my boyfriend eases my fears and makes me want to keep her. “Um . . . Okay. So totally don’t judge him on this, but you might know him as the guy who burned down your principal’s office.”
Hope’s jaw drops, and she gapes at me. “No way,” she breathes. “Okay, yeah. I know exactly who you’re talking about.” She laughs and shakes her head, almost unable to believe what she’s hearing. “Wow, girl. I have to be honest. You don’t strike me as the kind to go after the typical player bad boy.”
“Dare I ask what type you think I would go for?” I ask, not bothering to correct her on the typical player bad boy comment. She wouldn’t understand.
Hope looks at me for a moment, really thinking it through. “I don’t know,” she says thoughtfully. “You definitely seem like a girl who goes for the athlete type, someone with a sexy body, but not someone high up on the roster who’s going to give you a hard time when it comes to other girls. I don’t think you’re interested in that shit. Maybe like, the typical nice guy, golden-retriever vibe.”
I laugh. “In that case, you have me pinned pretty well. That’s Noah all over. Only he has a mean streak for anyone who wants to screw with me and doesn’t let the outside world see the real him. Ask anyone in this school, and they’d say Noah is the biggest ass they’ve ever met, but not me. I’ve known him since we were . . . Well, since I was born really. He was my first friend, and he’s been right by my side ever since. He’s the only one who’s ever truly had my back.”
I don’t bother to explain those three dark years, that’s definitely a conversation for when I know her better. But I already know, without a doubt, that I’ll be comfortable opening up about it and telling her all about Linc.
“You know, that is honestly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Best friends growing up together and slowly falling in love.”
“Oh, there was nothing slow about it,” I scoff. “I was madly in love with him at thirteen, and it’s only ever gotten stronger. He tells people all the time that we’re two halves of the same whole.”
“Soul mates,” she murmurs, her blue eyes shining with fondness.
“Exactly,” I tell her. “What about you? What’s your story?”
Hope scoffs. “Compared to that, my story is boring. I’ve never had that big, all-consuming first love or had any issues with nasty girls. I’m just . . . plain Hope. Just hoping to get through high school without any drama—but maybe a handful of parties.”
“You know what?” I say, a genuine smile resting across my lips as I meet her kind, icy blue eyes. “Stick with me. You sound like everything I could possibly need.”