“The gala. That’s what you meant when you said I owed you a dance. Because I should have danced with you then.”
Another nod.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I hold them in. “Why did I draw hearts all around the date?”
“You didn’t.”
Frustration blooms, and I bend, snatching it off the ground and slap it into his hand. “You swore.”
“You wrote it on the calendar. I drew the hearts.”
“Y-you drew the hearts?” I stutter. “In three colors? On the calendar in—”
“In your bedroom.” He stares, hesitating, but only for a moment. “And in your school planner. And on the one in mine.”
“In your… what?”
“Bedroom,” he whispers.
My throat swells. “Show me.”
Nodding, Noah holds a hand out, so I slip away, slowly moving through the small living room area and through the open door that leads to a fresh made bed.
A pair of shoes sit at the foot of it, and papers litter the small desk in the corner.
I freeze when I spot an old T-shirt tossed in the corner, one that looks a lot like Mason’s old high school shirt, the one I stole as sleepwear.
My head snaps over my shoulder, my cheeks heating when Noah nods.
He slips ahead of me, pulling the standing calendar from his desktop, and hands it to me.
It’s still on December, which is completely blank, and so I flip it over, and sure enough, it’s there, hearts and all.
My hands tremble, and I brush my thumb over the writing. “Noah…”
“We were excited,” he rasps. “That’s all.”
“How could you allow me to go with Chase?” I look up.
“I didn’t allow anything.” His shoulders fall. “It was your choice.”
“But I had already made one. If I would have known, I wouldn’t have said yes.”
“But you didn’t know.”
“That’s your fault too!” I don’t mean to shout, and guilt wraps around my ribs.
“You can blame me. Anything you want to blame me for, do it. Please.” His tone is shattered, helpless and the ache bleeds into my own veins. “I’ll carry that weight. Gladly. Happily, if it takes any off you. I don’t want to hurt you.” He steps closer, nearly begging to take the pain from within me as his own. “If I went against what you asked, if I looked you in the eye and told you anything from before, I would have risked scaring you away. I couldn’t take that chance.”
“You wouldn’t have scared me.”
“You don’t know that.” Torment burns in his eyes, and my lips begin to quiver.
“Did you ask Mason to delete something from my phone?”
He visibly winces, silently pleading for a pass.
I don’t give him one.
You swore…
Noah nods.
“What was it?”
He swallows. “A message… all of our messages.”
There were a lot?
“Did you delete it from yours?”
Noah hangs his head. “No.”
“Why?”
He closes his eyes, and when they open, they’re clear, and I’m captivated by the sorrow within them. “Because I needed to hold on to what you gave me with the last message you sent.”
“What did I give you?” I whisper.
“Purpose, Juliet,” he whispers back. “You gave me purpose when I wasn’t so sure I had one.”
My eyes close, and I’m made aware tears have fallen when the heat of Noah’s thumbs meet my skin, shocking me, warming me.
Soothing me?
My lids fly open, locking with his.
His touch halts, but it doesn’t leave.
The calendar falls, and my hands press against his chest.
I jolt, but then I flatten them there. His heart ticks against my palm, and my pulse follows his lead. It starts stuttering, slow, and with each passing second, the rhythm picks up and up, and my eyes rise with it.
Noah’s fingers twitch against my hair, and he swallows.
I rise onto my toes and his features pull.
“Juliet…” he rasps. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, his lips so close now.
“I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“How do you feel about me?”
He says nothing, so I look up, and when I do, suddenly, his silence makes sense.
Noah doesn’t have to say a word, the truth is written all over him.
He couldn’t hide it if he tried, and I think he might be trying…