Chapter Twenty-Three Noah’s First Brush with Fame
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Noah’s First Brush with Fame
On Friday night, everything is set. Yesterday, I called Sadie immediately after dinner, and she gave me the all-clear to use her grandparents’ house again.
Noah’s never had Indian food before, so for dinner I place a big order from an Indian restaurant.
I get samosa chaat, biryani, mango lassi, and gulab jamun.
Once it’s delivered to Jason’s, I walk it all to Sadie’s grandparents’.
Noah is waiting at the side of the house with his brother’s bike again, and when he sees me walking up the street, his face breaks out into a smile, and he rushes to help me bring the bags inside.
I divide the food onto two plates, and the lassi into two glasses. We eat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen.
“Oh, wow,” Noah says after taking a bite of the biryani. “Where has this been all my life? It’s amazing!”
I smile. It is delicious. The biryani rice is fragrant with spices but not too much heat, with tender chicken and potatoes dotted through it.
The lassi is thick with a fresh mango flavor accentuated with warming cardamom.
And the samosa chaat—one of my all-time favorite dishes—is perfect.
It’s two crispy potato samosas topped with chutney, sweetened yogurt, onions, tomatoes, and herbs.
I knew Noah would love it, since he loves bold flavors.
“I don’t get how you haven’t tried Indian.
There is more than one Indian restaurant in Cherrybridge. ”
He shrugs. “We don’t eat at restaurants much.
My dad’s not very adventurous. Clara gives me Filipino food whenever she makes some.
When Dad and I went to the city for a campus tour of TMU, I wanted to try this Thai place nearby that I’d read about, but my dad refused.
” He makes a face, and his voice drops to a monotone. “We went to Popeyes instead.”
I smile. “Salad King, right? It’s one of my favorite restaurants in Toronto.
I’ll take you next…” No one knows where Noah will be next year.
He’s hoping to get into a college program in Toronto starting in January, but there’s no guarantee.
And actually, I don’t know where I’ll be in September either.
I don’t want to be in Cherrybridge, but I might not have a choice.
I think Noah is reading my thoughts, because he takes ahold of my hand and smiles when my eyes meet his.
“We’ll go together one day. I’m sure of it.
I want to go to all the places we talked about.
” He pauses, thinking. “You know, I wasn’t that excited to move to Toronto before I met you.
I didn’t think I’d like living downtown.
All people talk about is how snobby Toronto is.
How everyone there thinks they’re better than everyone else in the country.
But now…” He looks down shyly, and I can see that the tops of his ears are pink.
“Now, after hearing the way you talk about Toronto, all I can think of is how much I want to see the city through your eyes.” He chuckles dryly, his smile dropping. “Now, when I’m not even going anymore.”
“Noah, if you want to go, we’ll figure out how you can. You got a freaking full-ride scholarship to a university. You have the skills. We just have to find the perfect place for you.”
He nods, quiet for a moment as he searches my face.
“What?”
“You and Clara are the only ones who actually believe that I can do it.”
I smile. “I told you; I got your back.” I look at the empty containers of food. I’m going to have to bring them back home with me, so Mom thinks I ate there. I’m not sure she’s going to believe that I ate a whole biryani and samosa chaat alone, but I’ll deal with that later.
“C’mon,” I say, getting up. “Let’s clean up, then get back to the college spreadsheet. Let’s get you to Toronto.”
We’re on the couch, and I’ve made a new sheet on Noah’s college-options spreadsheet called Final Choices and Application Requirements.
We’ve narrowed his options down to three community college programs in Toronto.
But the admission requirements for each of them are quite different.
We’re about halfway through each school’s requirements when I get a text from Keeley.
Keeley: I take it you haven’t seen my Instagram today. Or my TikTok.
Meera: no i haven’t really been on socials
Keeley: Check it out. Your boyfriend’s popular. 3k likes on Insta.
I frown, not knowing what Noah has to do with Keeley’s Instagram. Then I remember. The song. She must have posted her duet. I really, really want to see what she’s done, but I’m not sure I want to look at it in front of Noah. I haven’t told him that I sent that video to Keeley yet.
I squeeze my lips together.
“What?” he says.
“I… Don’t be mad… but remember my friend Keeley? The piano player? Well, I sent her that video of you singing that song at the park a few weeks ago.”
Noah doesn’t look mad, just confused. A good sign. “Okay, and… she hated it?”
I shake my head. “No, she loved it.” At that, Noah breaks into a proud smile, rubbing the back of his neck at the compliment. “Keeley has these social media accounts for her music where she posts piano accompaniment and sings harmony to songs, and she—”
His eyes widen, but not in a good way. Yeah, he’s not happy about this. “She posted my song?”
Oh. I screwed up. I wince. “She just texted that I should check out her feed.”
He stares at me for several long seconds. I shouldn’t have done this without asking him. “Show me,” he finally says.
I open the app on my phone and go to Keeley’s piano account. Keeley’s caption is Duet with my best friend’s boyfriend…
After putting the volume way up on the phone, I slide closer to Noah so we can watch it at the same time.
The video starts with Noah sitting cross-legged on the bandstand playing the intro to the song on his guitar, except there’s a quiet piano in the background.
After he sings the first line, a video with Keeley in front of her electric piano slides in from the bottom so that his video is over hers, and her piano gets louder.
When he’s singing the chorus, that moody refrain of “I want to be more, to be magic like you, more like the stars, more magic like you,” Keeley sings the same words after him about half a second later.
I don’t know a thing about music composition, but I know that this sounds freaking amazing.
The song was already a little sad, but now with Noah’s soulful voice and Keeley in the background, it’s absolutely haunting.
It sounds more layered, more complete. It’s still clearly Noah’s song, but it sounds so much better with someone supporting him.
I have no idea if Noah will approve of this. Keeley has thousands and thousands of followers—mostly other musicians. She hasn’t tagged Noah, but this is still him. His expression right now is unreadable. Just completely blank.
“Keeley says there are three thousand likes. Lots of comments, too,” I say. “Do you want to read them?”
He nods, still staring at the screen as the song starts from the beginning again. I open the comments so we can read them together.
There’s a lot of This is gorgeous or Amazing arrangement, but even more Who is this guy?
, This song is amazing, and Please link to his account!
Lots and lots of people love his song, and his voice.
Also, I notice that several of them are calling him a hottie, and saying too bad he’s not single.
Selfishly, that makes me puff up with pride, but now’s really not the time for that.
I can’t read Noah’s expression. I’m still not sure if he’s happy about this attention. “Is it… I mean, you don’t mind that I sent her the video, do you? Your music is so important to you, and you sounded so down about your future. I thought you might need a… confidence boost.”
He finally smiles, chuckling, and I feel my whole body relax at the sound. “No. Not mad. Is she… I mean, does she actually like the song, or was she just being… nice?”
I laugh. “When it comes to music, Keeley is very rarely nice. She said you were amazing when I sent it to her. And she knows her stuff.”
He nods, then exhales. “I…” He laughs nervously again. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard one of my songs sound that good.”
“So, you’re not mad?”
He blinks before giving me a reassuring smile. “No. A little overwhelmed, but not mad. I… think I need to process all these comments a bit, but seriously, thank you.”
I grin. “I wanted everyone to see you like I do. You’re amazing.”
He nods, then puts the phone on the table. “I need to make sure it doesn’t go to my head. One question: Did you tell your friend that I’m your boyfriend?”
Crap. We haven’t exactly made that part official yet.
We’re supposed to be seeing where this could go.
But I already know where it’s gone. I know that I’m head over heels, stupidly in love with Noah Jacobs.
But I’m not going to say it yet, because I don’t know if he feels the same way. “Um… no… I mean, not really, but—”
His smile widens into that incandescent flirty expression that he first gave me the day we met. It still has the ability to make my knees go completely weak. “I was wondering how to ask you if we could make this official—but look at efficient, organized Meera, already taking care of the problem.”
I smile. “So, we’re…”
He puts his hand on my cheek. “Exclusive. Boyfriend-girlfriend.” He kisses me briefly. “I didn’t think it was possible so soon… When I’m with you, I feel like I’m the person I want to be. Who I’m supposed to be. I’m so, so in love with you, Meera Noorani.”
I blink, tears forming in my eyes. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never wanted to say these words to anyone before, but with Noah, it all feels so natural. “I love you too, Noah Jacobs.”
We kiss, and it’s good. So, so good. All I feel around me is Noah. I have a sweet, incredibly talented, adorable boyfriend who loves me. He’s truly the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
We end up lying down on the sofa kissing like that for a long time. His hand is on my bare skin under my shirt, and it feels so good that I want to cry even more. I pull him even closer. He lifts his lips from mine, smiling. And he looks so good from here. He’s such a beautiful person.
“This okay, Meera?” he asks. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.” His eyes are focused on mine. Maybe I should be scared—because I know I’ve never felt anything near as intense as this. And maybe I should be cautious because the damn curse says this will all blow up in my face.
But I don’t believe in the curse anymore. I believe in Noah. Something that feels this right can’t possibly be wrong. “It’s okay. Better than okay. I can’t… I can’t get enough of you.”
He smiles warmly, then lowers his mouth back to mine. I feel cared for, protected, safe, and I feel loved right now.
A loud noise from the entryway startles us both. Noah and I break apart, then turn our heads toward the noise, and my jaw drops.
“Meera Parveen Noorani, get up off that sofa! Now!” my mother’s voice bellows a second later.
Crap. Here comes the curse.