Hot tears pricked the backs of Rose’s eyes. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let him see her cry. “Get out,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
He hesitated a moment, seeming like he wanted to say something else, but then he just shrugged. “Fine.”
He unfolded himself from the passenger seat, slamming the door so hard the whole car shook. Rose kept waiting for him to turn around, to take back what he’d said, but he disappeared into the house without glancing back.
Chapter Forty-Six
ROSE
“Honey, Noah’s here to see you,” her father’s voice called through her bedroom door. “Can I tell him he can come up?”
Rose lifted her head from the tear-flecked purple flowers of her bedspread and wiped her eyes. Of course Noah would pick now to come over. She glanced at herself in her dresser mirror, and the face looking back at her wasn’t pretty. Puffy eyes; drippy, red-tipped nose; tangles of hair stuck to the sides of her face in a crusty glue of snot and tears. She sniffed, her voice coming out thick when she said, “Tell him I’m not here.”
“He’s in the kitchen.”
Rose drew in a deep breath, blinking a few times as if that would magically deflate her swollen eyes. “All right,” she said, defeated. “Give me a couple minutes, and then he can come up.”
“Oh, also, I noticed earlier that the car is making a weird noise.”
“Weirder than usual?” That car always sounded like it was on the verge of an asthma attack.
“Yeah. Going to get it checked out next week. Until then, just short distances, okay?”
“Fine,” she agreed numbly. Not like she had any real reason to drive anywhere anyway. As Justin had so kindly pointed out, no one wanted to be around her.
After a trip to the bathroom to scrub the grossness off her face and drag a brush through her hair—still not good, but better, she decided—she returned to her room to find Noah standing in the middle of the floor, twisting his fingers around a stubby pencil.
She pointed to the pencil. “Here to take notes?”
He gave her a little half smile. “I was doing homework when I saw you drive up. Guess I just forgot to put it down. Um, do you have my mom’s car keys?”
Of course. He was here for the keys. In her fog, she’d forgotten to return them. She picked them up from her nightstand, dropped them in his hand. “Sorry. Thanks for letting us borrow the car. See you later.”
“I don’t need to go right away.”
“You don’t have to stay. I know you’ve got better things to do.”
“No, I don’t.” His face turned serious, and he straightened his shoulders. “Look, I know we haven’t been exactly . . . us lately. But you know if something’s wrong, you can talk to me.”
Rose sighed, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s really not a big deal.”
“Is it that guy? Justin? Do I need to go beat him up?” Noah pounded his fist into his open palm, his eyes narrowed and his lower lip caught between his teeth in an exaggerated tough-guy expression.
Rose burst out laughing. “Like you’d ever hit anyone.”
He shrugged, dropping the act with a grin. “Naw, I guess not. But I could deliver a strongly worded complaint.”
“That’s more like it.”
The phone on her nightstand rang, but Rose ignored it. A second later, her dad’s voice called from downstairs, “Rose! Phone!”
“Who is it?”
“Justin.”
She hesitated for a second. “I’m not allowed to talk to him, remember?”
“Oh, right! I’ll tell him,” her dad said, oblivious.
Noah had been watching her closely, and now he took a step closer to her, causing her breath to catch in her chest. “Did he do something? You can tell me if he did. I’m just . . . worried about you, Rosie.” He got quiet toward the end, his eyes fixed on hers.
At that moment, Rose wanted to tell him everything. Not just about Justin and their fight and the impossible task they’d set for themselves, but about Lisa hiding something from her, about her conflicted thoughts about the campaign, about her jealousy toward Steph and her guilt about being jealous. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t just crying because it had hurt when Justin said that none of the people she cared about truly cared about her; she was crying because she was pretty sure he was right.
But she and Noah weren’t like that anymore. He’d chosen Steph over her. Coming over tonight didn’t mean he cared about her specifically, any more than Justin scooping Karl out of the street indicated any sort of strong emotional bond between the two of them. All it meant was that he was a decent person.
And that she was pathetic.
“I’m fine.” She sniffed and crossed her arms, taking a step away from him. “You don’t have to worry about me, Noah. You can go home.”
“Why would you—did I do something wrong, Rose?”
She almost laughed. You picked another girl.
Instead of giving voice to that thought, she shrugged. “No. We’re good.”
“We don’t feel good.”
Another shrug.
Noah sighed. “Is this really how it’s gonna be now, Rosie?” he said softly. He extended his hands toward her, palms up, pleading. “I miss you. I miss us.”
Rose looked at him, studying his face intently. Did he mean it? She heard Justin’s voice in her head. Seems like they don’t care that much. Which voice could she believe? “I miss us, too,” she said quietly.
“So talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” Somehow, he’d gotten close enough that when he spoke, she could feel his breath brush her cheek. His eyes locked on hers, deep pools of dark brown. It was all she could do to keep from sinking.
“I just . . . don’t know what to do,” she said, her chest tight. Her voice sounded small, swallowed up by the heaviness of the air between them.
Noah’s hands came up to grip her arms, his lips curled into a little smile. “Then explain the problem to me, and we’ll figure it out together.”
His hands were warm and sure against her skin, and she thought his eyes flicked down to her lips, just once, so quickly he may have simply blinked. She breathed in his scent, spicy and safe and familiar, wishing she could stay here in this moment forever. Just the two of them in the quiet, sharing the same space, breathing the same air. No Justin, no Steph, no families or friends or impossible problems to solve. Just her and her Noah.
But he’s not mine.
She blinked, cold reality breaking over her like a wave. She could keep him here, unload all her doubts and uncertainties onto him as she had so many times before, knowing she could trust him to hold them gently. He would have the right words, the right reactions. He would know just what to say. He always did.
But he couldn’t give her what she wanted. She knew it wasn’t his fault, or something to be mad about. She knew he cared about her. But until she learned to be okay with what they were, it wasn’t fair to either of them for her to lean on him the way she used to. Not when all she could think about were all the things they weren’t.
Maybe, someday, they’d be an us again. But today, she wasn’t ready.