Chapter 30
Jake kept his promise and went to Noah’s college orientation.
The campus was forty minutes away and approximately six thousand times larger than West Ridge.
Noah tried not to look overwhelmed.
Jake pretended not to notice.
They sat through financial-aid information.
They toured dorms.
They ate free pizza.
Jake stole two pens.
Noah said, “That’s theft.”
“Tuition is twelve thousand dollars.”
“So?”
“They can afford pens.”
At the veterinary-sciences building, Noah stopped talking.
A student guide showed them anatomy labs, animal-care rooms, and a small teaching barn behind the building.
Noah stood beside a stall containing a sleepy goat.
The goat sniffed him.
Noah smiled.
Not the smile Jake got.
Different.
Older somehow.
A piece of the person Noah had expected to become before running became his entire life.
Jake leaned against the stall.
“You belong here.”
Noah looked at him.
“I haven’t even started.”
“Still.”
Noah rubbed the goat between its ears.
“What about you?”
Jake had been avoiding that.
“What about me?”
“You applied here too.”
“And two other places.”
“Which do you want?”
Jake looked across campus.
He had spent months choosing things because they kept people alive.
College felt embarrassingly difficult because nobody would die if he picked wrong.
“I don’t know.”
Noah nodded.
“Then don’t know yet.”
Jake looked at him.
Noah smiled.
“Annoyingly reasonable.”
Jake kissed his temple.
The goat sneezed on his sleeve.
Noah laughed for five straight minutes.
***
Jake got into all three colleges.
Lisa printed every acceptance email.
Jake did not understand why.
“They’re emails.”
“Now they’re paper.”
“Technology has failed you.”
She put them on the refrigerator.
One school was two hours away.
One was across the state.
One was the same university Noah planned to attend.
Jake stared at that one longest.
Noah noticed.
“Don’t pick it because of me.”
Jake frowned.
“I’m allowed to consider you.”
“Consider.”
“Bossy.”
“You love it.”
Jake did.
But Noah was right.
Jake toured the other schools.
He talked to coaches even though he was not sure he wanted football to become a college obligation.
He looked at programs.
Dorms.
Money.
Distance.
He chose the university forty minutes away.
Not because Noah was there.
Not not because Noah was there.
The distinction mattered.
When Jake told him, Noah stared for a second.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Because—”
Jake held up a hand.
“I checked the program. I checked the cost. I checked the campus. I even talked to an academic adviser like a responsible citizen.”
Noah smiled.
“And?”
“And my boyfriend happens to be going there.”
Noah growled.
Jake grinned.
“Still works.”
***
Prom became an argument in March.
Noah did not want to go.
Jake did.
“We survived Winter Lights.”
“Exactly.”
“That is not an argument against school dances.”
“Every formal school event we attend develops supernatural complications.”
Jake counted.
“One.”
“One is enough.”
Marcus appeared at their lunch table.
“I already rented a tux.”
Jake looked at him.
“Why?”
“Prom.”
“You don’t have a date.”
Marcus looked offended.
“I have confidence.”
Noah said, “Not the same thing.”
Marcus sat.
“Are you two going?”
“Yes,” Jake said.
“No,” Noah said.
Marcus nodded.
“Healthy relationship.”
Jake looked at Noah.
“I want one school dance where the biggest problem is bad music.”
Noah’s expression changed.
Jake continued.
“I want pictures. I want Mom to make us stand in the yard while she takes four hundred of them. I want you to complain about the tie. I want Marcus to dance badly.”
Marcus interrupted.
“I dance beautifully.”
Jake ignored him.
“I want something stupid and normal with you.”
Noah looked down.
“You’re using feelings unfairly.”
“Is it working?”
“Yes.”
“Then I regret nothing.”