Chapter 63
Chapter Sixty-Three
Savannah
Crestfallen
I want to say the donuts I’m waiting on are for my parents, or the employees I’ll be hanging out with tonight, but they’re for me.
Apple cinnamon bear claws because Noah, the guy I ran out on after accusing him of getting closer to me for my brothers, enlisted the hockey team to keep an eye on me.
Or at least to make sure people were nice to me.
And I don’t even think Darren told him about last night, I think he just knows how I feel – because Parker f*ing told him – and that’s what he does.
He protects the people he cares about. He takes care of them.
And he cares about me. But I – within hours of him deciding to give us a chance – reminded him just how much of a handful I could be.
Iz should be his priority. I made things harder, when all I’d wanted to do was make them easier. So, I am eating my feelings.
I get an email from dorm housing saying I have to wait until next year if I want to switch roommates. I’m about to half-heartedly search for rentals off campus when the bell rings to announce a new customer.
I turn to explain that Mrs. Jones will be back in a minute, but I’m face to face with Izzie.
My brain hasn’t reconciled the girl from my present in my childhood bakery before her arms are around my waist.
“Hey, how was the English test?” I ask her with what I know is an overeager smile that hides nothing, but instead of Noah standing awkwardly behind her, there’s a woman.
She doesn’t look older than thirty, but she also looks like all the missing pieces between Izzie and Noah, so I know it’s their mother, and that the little boy strapped to her chest in a baby carrier is Tatum.
He has Noah’s eyes, the same as the woman in front of me, but he favors Doug for the rest.
“She was really impressed when I used crestfallen in a sentence and got it right,” Izzie answers me, but her mom is looking at us like her brain has short-circuited. “It’s when you’re really sad, like your smile has fallen. Get it, Crest like the toothpaste?”
“That’s nice, sweetheart, but who’s your friend?”
“I’m Savannah,” I introduce myself, extending a hand, though Izzie is still wrapped around me. I should probably shake her off, but I’ve missed her too. “Savannah James.”
Mrs. Callahan still looks confused, not that I expected Noah to have mentioned me, but I’m very surprised Izzie hasn’t.
“She’s my friend who goes to Noah’s games with me,” Izzie specifies. “Savannah didn’t really know hockey though, so we’ve been teaching her.”
“And you’re Noah’s…”
“Friend.” I swallow, because I’m not sure if that’s still true, and I miss the days when we were more, not less. “More Izzie’s, though,” I add for her benefit.
“What are you doing here?” Izzie asks me, looking around like she’ll be able to see the friends I came with. Like she’s looking for Noah.
“I grew up here, remember?” I tell her. “My parents own a car dealership just around the corner, and I work there sometimes,” I add for Mrs. Callahan.
“Tatum’s grandparents live not far from here, and I get a donut if I let Mrs. Reynolds squeeze my cheeks and tell me I’d look so much cuter in a dress.
” She rolls her eyes, but I narrow mine at her, because Izzie loves dresses and all things glittery.
She isn’t a tomboy, she’s a princess who plays hockey to spend time with her brother.
“Isabelle,” her mother chastises.
“Savannah’s cool,” Izzie assures her before heading to the restroom.
“He’s been happier,” Mrs. Callahan says, and I will my smile to stay in place, because I have been miserable, and while I don’t want Noah to be sad, I don’t want him to be happier without me either.
“This weekend was hard, but I’m glad he has you.
And Izzie. I didn’t even know there was a bake sale today, but her teacher was gushing about Izzie’s almond pastries when I picked her up, and I know my son didn’t make them. ”
She gives me a look, like she’s calling bullshit on my friends statement, and knows there’s something going on.
“I enjoy it,” I assure her. “And I owe Izzie big time.” I hope she thinks I mean for teaching me hockey, but more than anything, I’ll always love her for bringing Noah into my life. Even if he never comes back.
Mrs. Jones returns with my order, a much bigger box than I was anticipating. “I added a couple Jelly with powdered sugar and some donut holes, because they’re your brothers’ favorites,” Mrs. Jones tells me proudly, with the most overdone wink I’ve ever seen.
“They’re not…” I go to tell her my brothers aren’t in town, but she looks so happy. “Thank you,” I tell her instead.
I have my order, so I could leave. I should. But I remember Noah’s face last Friday night. And it’s not like I need to worry about impressing his mother anymore.
“Are you busy Friday evening?” I ask her, so nervous I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.
“Pizza night with Izzie and Tatum. His dad works late on Fridays.”
“Noah has a game. Against Boston College. They’re the team to beat, so it should be an exciting night.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll do amazing, but like I said, I’ll be alone with the kids, and it’ll end way past Izzie’s bedtime.”
“I could watch her. Them.”
“I’m sure you’d rather be at the game, don’t worry about me.”
“I can’t. For lots of reasons, but…” I take a deep breath and go for it.
“I know it’s not my place, and that he’d never tell you, because he doesn’t want you to feel bad and he understands, but…
every time he scores, which is a lot, he looks up to see if you’re there.
And while I’m sure it’s incredibly hard for you, I think it’ll be so much worse years from now when you realize you missed out on Noah being the best at something.
He’s amazing. On the ice, as the captain of that team, as Izzie’s big brother…
He’s one of the best guys I know. And he might make it to the NHL, I think he will, but these games could be all he gets.
Then with Izzie following in his footsteps… they deserve people in their corner.”
I realize that I am letting my current newsworthy status keep me from supporting Noah, even if we’re not together, so I make the decision that if his mom doesn’t take me up on the babysitting offer, I’ll go to the game.
Giant crowd be damned. Because Noah deserves to have someone in the audience for him.
Cheering him on.
Who loves him.
“I can’t,” she tells me, looking equal parts guilty and terrified.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed.” She nods, but instead of reproachful, she looks like she feels bad for me.
“He’s lucky to have you,” she tells me.
“I’m not sure he feels that way right now, but I want what’s best for him. Always.”
“I can see that.”
“I need to get going, but…if you change your mind about Friday, or any game, Izzie has my number.”
“You’re leaving?” Izzie asks me, coming back from the washroom.
“I’ll be late if I don’t, but I’ll see you soon, okay?” I say, giving her a hug. I shouldn’t make promises without discussing it with Noah, but I can’t stand the thought of never seeing Izzie again. “It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Callahan.”
“Thank you, Savannah,” she tells me with a sad smile, but I feel more pathetic now than I did last weekend. And now I have to pump myself up to go to his game on Friday.
“You look…pensive,” Lacey decides when I walk into her dorm later and collapse on my back on her roommate’s bed, that I’ve been using.
“I ran into Noah’s mom,” I admit. Hours with my own thoughts at the dealership were not great for my brain, or my heart.
“How is she doing?” There’s an edge to her voice, like she might know about aspects of Noah’s mom he likes to keep hidden.
“I tried to convince her to come to Noah’s game on Friday.”
“How did that go?”
“She turned me down.”
“Which you expected,” she calls me on it. “But you still asked because…”
“Because he deserves to have someone there when he looks up in the stands after he scores.” Or at the end of a bad game when he doesn’t.
“That’s not really your job anymore, is it? Both being there and convincing someone else to be.”
“I’m not a monster,” I say, but she isn’t reproaching me for overstepping. She’s pointing out that I still care. “Has Darren…no, I don’t want to know.”
“You do, though,” she argues. “What would have happened if Noah told you he knew? The night of Parker’s party, he confronts you. How do you react?”
I want to say that would have made things better, but the biggest issue wasn’t him telling me…it’s whether I could believe what he said.
“I don’t know.”
“But you wouldn’t have trusted him anymore, right? As soon as he knows, all his motives come into question, and you can’t know what’s for you and what’s for your brothers.”
“Are you seriously trying to convince me he was right to lie? That I would have been unreasonable and unfair, so he had no other choice?” I’m getting defensive, because I know my feelings are valid – he withheld information from me when he shouldn’t have.
But I also know that my past trauma made it so he probably wouldn’t have fared so well if he’d come clean. Like we both should have.
“Never. But maybe Noah found out both that you were related to pro athletes, and that it makes you feel a certain way, so instead of telling you it doesn’t matter to him, he showed you. Because actions speak louder than words and that man has consistently shown that he’s got it bad for you.”
“He didn’t even admit we were more than friends until Friday,” I argue, though I want her to be right.
“You were sober at the Christmas party, weren’t you? When he showed you off to everyone he cares about and couldn’t keep his hands off you? And I mean that in the cute, he wanted to be holding you way.”
“But I make everything more complicated for him,” I say, because his reasons are easier to argue than my deep-rooted fears.
“I prefer interesting.”
“I can’t lose him again, Lacey. Not when he realizes I’m not worth the hassle, or if my darkest fears are true and –” he’s stringing me along for my brothers. Which sounds so far-fetched and ridiculous of Noah, but I’ve been wrong before.
“They’re not,” she stops me. “Do you honestly believe Noah would do that to anyone, let alone the woman he loves?”
“He never—”
“Aren’t writers supposed to be experts at showing instead of telling?”
I sigh, because I did see it. I was just too afraid to believe it.
“Love is messy sometimes. And complicated. But it has always been worth it for me. It’s not like Noah has all his shit together,” she points out, “and you haven’t once given that as a reason to turn your back on him.”
“Because I lo—because I think he’s worth it.
Fighting for. Getting my heart broken. I am so terrified, but the only thing scarier than putting myself out there and giving him the power to wreck me is the thought of not being with him.
” I wipe the tears that fall as if that’ll stop her from seeing them.
“He is,” she tells me. “But so are you, babes. You are so worth it.” She looks at me, earnestly, as if that will help her words sink in, before she asks, “Are you working on your book again tonight?”
“No, I sent it to my mom this afternoon, so I can’t really do anything until I get her feedback.”
“Perfect!”
“How?”
“I’m bailing on kickboxing so we can do masks. Or paint our nails; I got both. And if we happen to come up with a plan that gets you back together with Noah and secure in his feelings, all the better.”
I shake my head and laugh at her enthusiasm, but this is exactly what I thought having a sister would be like. Which makes me think of Izzie, but I try not to tear up again.
“Kickboxing actually sounds perfect,” I assure her. Our first sleepover made it clear she does not enjoy sitting still and pampering herself, and I miss the strength and confidence I used to have back when I was doing martial arts.
“Oh, thank God!” She smiles. “But I totally would have done them for you.”
“I appreciate that,” I say before we go kick things.