Chapter Twenty The Noah Jacobs Fan Club
The weekend is extra annoying because I’m stuck at home.
Noah and I talk on the phone and text, but I’m getting stir-crazy.
Eventually I start logging on a spreadsheet all the pictures I’ve taken in Cherrybridge, and listing when and where they were taken and what edits I did on them.
This is how I always organized my Toronto pictures, and it calms me.
I can always happily kill time with a new spreadsheet.
Sunday afternoon while I’m in my bedroom working on my spreadsheet, there’s a knock on my door. I assume it’s Mom, so I call out a curt “What?”
But when the door opens, it’s Sadie who peeks her head in. “You up for company?”
I grin. Heck, yes, I would love company. “What are you doing here, Sadie? I’m grounded. I’m not allowed friends over.”
She comes in, smiling. “Yes, but I convinced your mother that I’m not a friend. I’m literally family.”
Ha! I love loopholes. “That’s amazing. Perfect.
Yes, come sit. I’m working on a spreadsheet of photos, but I would love to catch up instead.
” I put my computer aside. It’s been a week since I saw her, since the picnic at LeClair Industries.
And it was a little weird then, when Sadie implied that Jason married Mom as some sort of strategy for his mayoral campaign.
She sits on my desk chair and turns it so she’s facing me on my bed.
“I want to apologize.” There’s a shakiness in her voice, and I can tell she’s nervous.
“I feel bad about what I said at the picnic. I didn’t mean…
” She takes a breath. “I mean, I think it’s great that Jason married your mom.
I don’t think he married down or anything.
I think she’s the coolest. I think you’re even cooler. I’m sorry.”
I smile. I know she means it. And I get it. Sadie has lived her whole life in this upper-class bubble. The fact that she’s not more like Kaitlyn is actually impressive. It’s one of the things I love about her.
“I know, Sadie. And you’re forgiven.”
She smiles, her shoulders relaxing. “Good. I’m glad. I should have called you or texted before now. I… I felt awkward. And I knew you were in trouble. What happened, anyway? What did your mom say?”
I tell her about the argument Mom and I had on Sunday, and that we’ve barely spoken since then.
“It’s ridiculous. She’s even checking up on me every day to make sure Noah and I are really working and not sneaking off to make out or something.
If she finds out we’re dating, then she’ll pull me out of CROP and we won’t be able to see each other at all. ”
Sadie’s eyes widen. “Wait. Back up, Meera. Are you two actually dating now? Like, not pretending anymore?”
I laugh. I forgot that she doesn’t know that part yet. “Yep. For a week now. Don’t tell my parents.”
Sadie lets out a surprised laugh. “You went from fake dating him to annoy your parents to secretly dating him so you won’t annoy your parents.”
It’s funny to think of it that way. “So, you approve?”
Sadie shakes her head, still smiling. “Yeah, this is amazing. I hardly know the guy, but I was clearly so wrong about him. He seems great. I’m happy you’re happy.”
I smile. I am happy. Even though I’m not talking to my mother, and my Toronto friends seem to have forgotten I exist, and I’m grounded… I’m still happy. Thanks to Noah.
“Enough about me, though,” I say. “What’s new with you and Liv?”
She tells me about her week. They went to The Brewberry a few times, played a new video game Liv got, and drove into Waterloo to see the new Studio Ghibli movie.
“Oh! I didn’t know you guys were into Japanese animation.” I’m reminded of Kennedy and her shirts. Maybe there’ll come a day when I can introduce Kennedy to Sadie and Liv. That is, if she doesn’t steal them first.
When I get to CROP on Monday, Lainey is already talking about outdoor paint for the bandstand. I sit wordlessly next to Noah. I want to touch him so much. Or to kiss him. But I don’t. He grabs my hand right away. I squeeze his fingers.
“Okay, go forth and paint!” Lainey finally says after telling us all how to paint, like I didn’t paint my room back in Toronto three times on my own.
When we start painting, I tell Noah I’m planning to paint my room in my grandparents’ house mauve when I get back there in September.
“I hope I can come see you in Toronto,” he says.
“Yeah, you’d better.” My grandparents would never let him stay with us, though.
And he says he can never stay overnight with his mother because she’s a live-in caregiver and her employer doesn’t let her have overnight guests.
But that’s a problem we’ll deal with later.
I smile and roll primer onto the post where Noah kissed me for the first time.
We both gravitated to work on this part of the bandstand again without discussing it.
“I haven’t hung out in Toronto with someone my own age, ever,” Noah says. “Where would you take me?”
I smile, tilting my head, thinking. “Definitely Kensington Market. It’s this really cool neighborhood with lots of quirky stores and vintage shops.
It has the best tacos in Toronto.” I brighten, remembering a place he’d love.
“Then I’d probably take you to Steve’s Music.
That’s my friend Keeley’s favorite music store in the city.
She spends hours in the keyboard room. You’d probably love the guitar room. ”
His eyes widen in recognition. “I know Steve’s. I’ve drooled over their stuff online. Where would you take me that you like, not places you think I’d like?”
That’s such a Noah question. I take a beat to think about it before the answers come to me.
“Easy. Union Station. The architecture is so cool. They’ve perfectly blended the old with the new.
It’s utterly chaotic, and I always get lost there, but it’s the place that feels the most Toronto to me.
And there’s some surprisingly good food in the food court.
Then maybe Riverdale Park because there are some awesome views of the city skyline from there. ”
He smiles. “All the tall buildings that you’re obsessed with, right?”
I nod enthusiastically, which makes him laugh.
“Do you think…” He looks away, focusing on what he’s painting. “I mean, you said that you aren’t sure you’ll get into the architecture program because it’s competitive. What will you do if you don’t get into the University of Toronto?”
I shrug, but my stomach clenches at the thought of not getting into my dream program. “Toronto is on top because it’s a great school and my cost of living would be the lowest since I could live with my grandparents, but I’m going to apply to Waterloo and Carleton, too.”
“Isn’t Jason going to pay for your education?”
I stop painting. This is the first time I’ve ever thought about it.
“I don’t know. Mom just married the guy, and I’ve been working on this plan since before they even met.
I made a big chart in Excel comparing all the architecture programs in Canada, and how much it would cost me to live in each city.
” I chuckle awkwardly. “Hate to think all that time was wasted.”
Noah laughs. “Why am I not surprised that you made a spreadsheet?”
I grin. “Of course I made a spreadsheet. They’re so satisfying. Especially color-coded ones.”
He says nothing for a while. Finally he speaks. “I like that about you. You have a goal… and when things went south, you didn’t accept defeat. You’re still determined.”
I turn to him. “Noah, you can keep your goal too. You can apply to TMU again next year, or you can try other schools.”
He shrugs. “I don’t have a rich and connected stepfather to help me get the things I want.”
“And neither did I until a few months ago.” I pause, coming to a revelation. A lot of me knowing what I want to do, what I can do, is because of the people in my life who have been supporting me. Who has been there to push Noah? Other than Clara, no one, really.
He shakes his head. “My dad barely agreed to let me go to TMU before. Aaron could relapse, and Dad needs help with him. And there’s no guarantee I could make a living with music. There are a lot of others who have the same dream. What’s different about me?”
I sigh. I wish there was some way I could show Noah that his talent, his skill, is better than most. It shouldn’t be wasted. But I can’t. I can make sure he knows that I’m on his side now, though. I rub his back. “You’re amazing,” I say. “I think you can do whatever you set your mind to.”
“You two are being particularly nauseating today,” Kennedy says. She’s painting a few feet away from us.
I tense. Kennedy and I have been pretty friendly lately, but we haven’t told her that Noah and I are together because I don’t want her to tell Lainey, or worse, my mother.
“You’re just jealous,” Ash says. “When’s the last time you got some?”
Kennedy responds to that by painting a wide stripe of white onto Ash’s gray T-shirt. He screams and tries to get back at her, but Lainey’s been keeping a closer than normal eye on us today, probably to prevent this very thing from happening.
“Chill, dudes, or you’ll be back on weeding duty,” Lainey says.
No one wants that, so the fight breaks up.
Later Kennedy comes and whispers, “Honestly, happy for you. I knew it would happen eventually. You and Noah are great together. I’ll keep your secret.”
I smile. Another person who approves of this relationship. There is no way this is a bad idea.
When I’m home that afternoon, I text Keeley the video of Noah’s song from that day I recorded him at Gordon Park, and ask her what she thinks of it.
She calls me five minutes later.
“Holy crap,” she says. “You’re right. He is amazing. Wait, is this the one you’re fake dating, or the one who took you out for burgers?”
“This is fake-dating guy, but we’re not doing the fake part anymore.”
Keeley pauses. “Stop. Meera, are you actually dating the bad boy? Since when?”
“Um, yeah. Since last Sunday. A week yesterday.”
A second voice pipes up. “And you didn’t tell your closest friends?” It’s Adanna, and she sounds hurt. I’m not surprised they’re together, but I am surprised that Keeley didn’t mention Adanna was there when she first called me.
“I’m telling you now,” I say. When they don’t say anything, I exhale. “You’ve both been busy this summer. I haven’t heard from you all week.” I feel like they’ve been too busy for me this summer, and also I feel like I’ve been too busy for them.
After none of us says anything for a while, Adanna finally speaks. “Meera, I know we’ve kind of detached this summer. I’m sorry. But you were just so upset about not being with us every time we talked, and we didn’t want to make you more upset. And then you kind of dropped too, and—”
“You know we love you, right?” Keeley says, interrupting. It’s clear that they have been talking about me this summer.
And why shouldn’t they talk about me? They’re right.
I have been focused on my own problems and have been very woe is me since getting arrested.
And maybe I’ve been blaming the world for my mistakes instead of facing them.
“Do you think… Mom said I have main-character syndrome. Do you think she’s right? ”
“No,” Adanna says quickly. “You’re going through a rough time. Of course you’re preoccupied with yourself right now.”
But isn’t being preoccupied with myself the same thing as having main-character syndrome?
“Things will be back to normal after the summer,” Keeley says. “I promise. We’ll be grade twelves! We’ll finally get to rule the school!”
Will things go back to how they were? I feel like I’ve changed so much since leaving the city.
And I’ve always needed my friends more than they needed me.
I was alone at home so much, and both of their families would welcome me over whenever.
I got parental pep talks from their parents. They stood in for my family.
We have only one year left of high school.
Then we’re all planning to do different things.
Keeley wants to study piano in Europe. Adanna wants to go to a therapeutic-art program at the University of Guelph.
We’re not going to be a trio for much longer.
And from the sounds of it, they’re having a fantastic, busy summer.
Why should I be mad that they’re enjoying themselves, just because I’m not there?
“You guys never told me about the music festival,” I say, changing the subject. “Who were those people in the pictures you posted?”
They excitedly tell me about some people who live in suburban Montreal that they were hanging out with, and Adanna even admits that she had sparks with one of them and they’ve been talking since then.
I squeal, and we analyze Adanna’s new relationship.
Then I tell them about how Noah and I got together, and they squeal and then we analyze my relationship.
Everything feels… normal. Like we always were before I left Toronto.
In a lull in the conversation, Adanna says, “This is what I like about us. Even if we have a break, we can still be chill when we talk again.”
“Absolutely,” Keeley says.
“Yes,” I say. “And I’m sorry, guys. I’ve been going through a lot, and I know I’ve been complaining too much. I’m sure I haven’t been very fun to talk to.”
“Totally okay. It happens,” Keeley says. “Hey, why did you send me that song, though? Other than to show me how amazing your boyfriend is?”
“I need your advice. You’re a musician, Keeley. What can I do to help give Noah a confidence boost? I need to show him that his talent would be appreciated outside of Cherrybridge.”
Keeley pauses, thinking. I can hear Noah’s deep voice in the background. They’re listening to the clip again.
“How about you remix the song?” Adanna suggests to Keeley.
“Oh!” Keeley squeals. “That’s perfect! I can do a post of me playing piano accompaniment and singing harmony! I can post it on my feed, even tag him or put him as collaborator.”
I smile. Keeley has just under fifteen thousand followers on her music account. So many people love her piano arrangements of popular songs. But she’s never done a duet like that before.
“Would you really do that?” I ask. “It sounds like a lot of work.”
“I’m already tweaking the arrangement in my head. Leave it with me, Meera. People will love him.”
“Okay… but don’t tag him… yet.”
I really hope I’m doing the right thing. But after being a major Noah Jacobs fan for the last few weeks, one thing I know for sure is that he needs more of us.