Chapter Eighteen The Last Hurray for the Old Bandstand
We each get a plate with a burger and salad, then take it back to the executive area at the front, but I’ve lost my appetite. Noah seems to feel the same, because he only eats about three bites of his burger before he pushes his plate away.
He doesn’t say anything about that interaction with his dad and that woman.
Probably because we’re not alone. There are others—I assume a LeClair employee and his family—sitting next to us.
A girl who is my age or a little younger keeps glancing at Noah, looking like she’s about to laugh.
I have no idea what she’s finding so funny.
His clothes? His spiderweb tattoo? His piercings?
Or the fact that he’s here at the LeClair party sitting with the executives?
Liv and Sadie join us at our table. There’s no room for them to sit, so they stand, talking to us.
They’re still holding hands, and the staring girl’s parents frown at them.
I admire Sadie’s and Liv’s bravery. Noah dropped my hand immediately when he thought Ashley didn’t approve of us.
But Sadie and Liv are actually a couple, and Noah and I are only pretending.
“This party is boring,” Sadie says after we talk about the food, the games, and the activities. “Last year they at least had a DJ. I mean, he was terrible, but the vibe was less… somber.”
I wonder if music hater Jason had something to do with there being no music this year.
“Is your uncle making a speech?” Liv asks Sadie. “Like, turning this into a campaign event?”
Sadie shakes her head. “No. My dad says they’re purposely not bringing up politics here, even though it’s kind of an unofficial campaign event.
Uncle Jason knows that a lot of the plant staff aren’t going to vote for him because he’s a LeClair, and a lot of the plant workers worship Peter McCrae, but he’s hoping that being approachable might change a few minds.
Honestly, it’s ridiculous. Uncle Jason’s great.
He’d totally be a mayor who cares about the little people.
” Sadie smiles at me. “Him marrying your mother—a nurse—proves he doesn’t hate blue-collar workers.
It was so smart of him to do that right before the campaign. ”
My eyes widen. I know Sadie means well, but it’s clear she truly has no idea how offensive that is.
Jason might not be my favorite person, and I’m not fond of the person my mother has become since marrying him, but I have zero doubt in my mind that Jason adores her.
He didn’t marry her for strategy, to seem progressive, or for virtue signaling, despite what Ashley and Sadie might say.
I remember what I overheard him say to Mom, that he wanted her with him more than he wanted air to breathe.
I cannot let this go. “Sadie, do you really think Jason married my mother to prove he’s, like, woke or something?” I ask. “Instead of actually wanting to be with her?”
Sadie turns bright red. Her eyes are full of regret. “I—I didn’t mean it that way! Your mom’s amazing! And so are you! I meant the timing, but you’re right. That’s silly.” She tilts her head and gives me an apologetic smile. “I really am so glad we’re cousins now, Meera.”
“Yeah, we love you!” Liv says, trying to smooth over her girlfriend’s blunder. “We don’t think you’re, like…”
“Blue-collar?” I ask. “Poor? Because we are. Or at least we used to be before Mom’s Cinderella story.
My mother is a community-college-educated practical nurse—not even an RN.
And we lived in my grandfather’s house for years because Mom couldn’t afford anything else. My grandfather who owns a gas station.”
I quickly glance at Noah, and he’s got a pretty nasty frown on his face. What Sadie said about Jason caring about the little people is pretty much the opposite of what Noah and Mike think about him. And I’m sure this conversation isn’t helping how he sees the people on the other side of the bridge.
Sadie winces. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean—”
Noah interrupts her. “Meera, if your stepfather isn’t going to make a speech, want to get out of here? They probably won’t even notice you’re gone.”
I stand, picking up my plate. “Yeah, let’s.” I turn to Sadie and Liv. “Cover for us, will ya? If my mom looks for me, tell her I’m in the bathroom, then text me to come back.”
“Yeah, of course,” Sadie says. She’s still bright red, like she’s embarrassed for planting her foot so firmly into her mouth. But I don’t really care to ease her discomfort right now. Noah puts his hand out for me, and I take it.
After we toss our plates, Noah guides me straight to the back of the food tent, then all the way to the chain-link fence that separates the LeClair grounds from Gordon Park. I feel so much better the farther I get from LeClair Industries.
“Ever hopped a fence before, Noorani?” Noah asks.
I laugh. He’s calling me Meera now when others are around, but I like how I’m Noorani when we’re alone. “No.” I raise a brow. “Isn’t this how you got arrested?”
He grins proudly. “This very fence. Of course, I was hopping it in the other direction. C’mon, I’ll help you. It’s easy.”
I shake my head, laughing. I can’t believe I’m doing this. In the last few months I’ve been arrested, have drunk alcohol, have lied to my mother about where I am, and have worn the shortest skirt I’ve ever worn. And now I’m hopping fences with a guy with tattoos.
Why did no one ever tell me that being bad was so much fun?
Noah stands behind me like he’s spotting me and tells me to climb to the top by putting my feet into the squares of the chain-link.
We very quickly realize that that’s not possible wearing platform Chuck Taylors.
Laughing at the ridiculousness of it, I take off my shoes and throw them over the fence.
Now I have no choice but to hop the fence to get my shoes.
I start climbing, with Noah holding my waist to support me, and I’m very glad I’m wearing shorts under my skirt.
When I get to the top, he tells me to swing my legs over so I’m sitting on the thick metal pole at the top of the fence.
“Now you can either jump down or turn and climb down the way you climbed up,” he says.
I am not going to jump. It’s not a very tall fence, only about five feet, but it seems pretty high from up here, and I’m not wearing shoes. I don’t need a broken ankle.
See? I can make smart choices, even when I’m with a guy.
But the thought of turning and climbing down is also scary. I would have to let go of the death grip I have on the top of the fence. What if I fall?
I don’t do anything. I’m frozen with indecision.
And a bit of fear, to be honest. The fence starts moving.
I clutch it even tighter and turn to watch Noah effortlessly climb to the top, swing his long legs to the other side, and then hop down to the grass in Gordon Park.
He faces me with his hands out. “Turn and climb down. I’ll spot you. You got this, Meera.”
I exhale and use my arms to turn my body. Noah’s hands are on my waist immediately after I turn, and he takes most of my weight as I climb down the fence by sticking my toes into the chain links.
When both of my socked feet are on solid ground, I breathe a sigh of relief and turn, but Noah’s hands stay on my waist. His long fingers practically encircle the waistband of my skirt. The fence is behind me, and there’s nothing but Noah… tall, skinny Noah invading all my senses in front of me.
His eyes are different this close up. Yeah, they’re a deep, warm brown, but in the bright summer sun it looks like there are greenish striations in them. And his lashes are enviously long.
My heartbeat is loud in my eardrums. I don’t dare say a word, because it feels so amazing to be this close to him that I don’t ever want it to stop.
His gaze moves from my eyes to my lips and linger there a moment before going back to my eyes.
It’s the same expression he gave me in the thrift store on Friday, but this time it’s even more charged.
A slow smile transforms his face. “I knew you could do it,” he says softly.
“You’re totally cut out for a life of crime. ”
I nod, smiling up at him. “They should call us Bonnie and Clyde.”
Laughing, he lets go of my waist and takes my hand again. “C’mon. Let’s go to the bandstand.”
I pick up my shoes, and we run toward the bandstand, laughing the whole way.
I’m giddy, like I haven’t been even once since coming to Cherrybridge.
It’s like I’m high on the danger of jumping the fence.
Of escaping that lame party. Or I’m high on Noah.
I have no idea what’s going on, or what he’s thinking, but right now I don’t want to overthink things.
I’m done analyzing and planning everything.
I’m just going to be me, the person Noah always urged me to be.
The sun is barely starting to set, so it’s bathing the whole park in this sepia hue.
I wish I had my camera, but I know I couldn’t capture even half of how magical this is.
This park is where I first met Noah, barely two weeks ago.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but I don’t feel like the same person I was then.
I’ve never felt so alive. So true to myself.
When we get to the bandstand, we climb the wooden stairs, and the chipped paint pokes my feet.
Right away Noah pulls me to the back of the stage so that I’m leaning against a wood pillar.
I drop my shoes. The bandstand is filthy and probably leaving dirt all over my skirt, but I don’t care.
Noah braces one hand on the post, and the other one goes around my waist again.
He’s crowding me, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
He smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I smile right back, reminding myself to keep breathing.
This is real. The heavy press of his hand on my skirt proves it. The look in his eyes, too.
“Hi,” he says, still smiling.
“Hi yourself,” I say.