Chapter Six Don’t Stop Be-Leafing #3
I put my gloves back on and take the clippers from him.
Despite his flirting yesterday, and his assumptions about me, Noah is…
nice. Considerate. And kind of wise, too.
Which, I mean, I totally get that because he’s got ripped jeans, an old band shirt, tattoos, and piercings, that doesn’t mean he has to be an unintelligent asshole.
But there’s such a disconnect between the things that Sadie said about him and the person I’ve been working with for the last two days.
I wish I knew why he’s here. Did he do something illegal?
But that doesn’t make him a bad person. I mean, I broke the law, and I’m not a bad person.
In fact, I don’t know if any of the people in CROP are actually bad or just made one stupid mistake like I did that also got them here.
I need to remember not to judge people—maybe I just have to get to know them.
Except Kennedy—I think the earbud stealer actually is a bad person.
“So how did you end up in Cherrybridge anyway?” Noah asks after we’ve been working silently for a while. Has he been trying to figure me out the same way I’ve been trying to figure him out?
“My mom married a man from here,” I say. I don’t mention that the man is a LeClair, because I suspect that Noah wouldn’t like me if he knew who my stepfather is.
Not that I want Noah to like me.
Maybe.
“Ah,” he says, nodding. “The age-old improve your financial situation by marriage strategy. Good for her. Can’t say I blame her.”
Is he saying my mom is a gold digger? I’ve heard people call her that before—mostly Nanabapa’s friends, and some people at the hospital where Mom worked—but I really don’t think it’s true.
Mom’s never been the kind of person who cares about how much money someone has, nor does she care about designer labels or expensive things.
But she did say she was happy she could finally spoil me.
I cut another branch and watch as he picks it up.
Just like yesterday, Noah’s working diligently.
I glance down the line of trees, and Kennedy and her partner are nowhere to be seen.
“I was supposed to stay in Toronto with my grandparents this summer,” I say, “but plans changed. I’m going back in September, though. ”
“Not interested in finishing school here?”
“No. No offense, but your town kind of sucks. And there’s this program for future architects of color at the University of Toronto that I have to be in next year.”
He chuckles. “Can’t say I disagree that Cherrybridge sucks, but considering the Porsche you keep getting dropped off in, I think your experience of Cherrybridge isn’t the same as mine.”
He’s right, and I don’t know what to say about that.
We work quietly for a few more minutes before I think of something else I want to ask him. “Before, when you asked me to switch roles, you said, Unless you don’t want to lose your view. What did you mean?”
Noah’s face does the most fascinating transformation then.
Like, it goes from a neutral boredom, to frowning, to confused, to smiling all in a few seconds.
But it’s not a normal smile. It’s the one he flashed yesterday when he asked if I wanted to piss off my parents by going out with him.
When he called me pretty. It’s his flirty smile.
And I hate what it does to me.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” he says, voice low. “You don’t seem to want me to notice that you’re noticing me.”
My eyes widen, and I’m sure I’m as red as a tomato. “I was not noticing you.”
He chuckles, nodding. “I’m enjoying watching you, too. Who knew pruning trees could be so… seductive?”
I’m blushing even more at the word, but I can’t help letting out a short snort of a laugh, which just makes Noah smile brighter.
“I should write a song about it. I’ll call it ‘No Twigs Attached.’ ” He nods like he’s seriously considering it.
I freeze. Did this bad boy just make a pun? I smile back at him. I love puns. “Or ‘I Pine Fir You’?”
He looks at me for several seconds before laughing. And it’s not a flirty laugh; it’s a laugh of admiration. “That was so sappy!”
“I can’t believe you think my jokes are acorny!” I say, cutting another branch. “I’m trying to branch out, get to the root of the problem. I’m not as poplar as you are.”
He snorts. “I’m telling Ash what a beech you’re being!”
I turn to him, frowning. “Who’s Ash?”
He pauses in his laughter and raises his brow again. “Um, the blond guy sitting with us at the picnic table? You know, real pine in the neck?”
I nearly fall down laughing. “I thought that guy’s name was ‘Hash’! I wondered why he was named after a corned-beef dish!”
Noah chuckles. “You realize I’m going to have to call him ‘Hash Brown’ now, don’t you?”
“I’d be-leaf it.”
He shakes his head at me. “You’re tree-mendously acorny. You know that, Noorani?” His smile is so big, and real.
We keep making terrible jokes while we finish pruning, and the time flies.
By the time we’re done, I’m feeling light and happy for the first time since I got to this town.
Who would have thought I would actually enjoy pruning spruce trees while making terrible tree puns?
Maybe I won’t hate every moment of my time in this park.