“One condition.”
“Anything.”
“When I’m done, I’m done. You’ll bring me home with no questions asked.”
“Of course, Peyton.” Noah smiles like he’s been triumphant. He has, but I’ll never tell him.
“I’m sorry, I have another condition.”
“Let’s hear
it,” he says, angling his body toward mine.
I look him square in the eyes, wishing I could get lost in his blue eyes. “No Dessie. If she’s going to be there…” I don’t know what I’ll do considering I can’t walk home. I could scoot home though, or at least far enough away from the school to wait for my parents.
Noah grabs for my hand, and I let him. “Just us, Peyton.”
“Here’s the deal. I can’t do stairs so you have to carry me. If you mock, tease or steal my walker, I’ll maim you. Got it?”
Noah laughs. “I got it, captain.”
Captain. He hasn’t called me that in years. I haven’t realized until this moment how much I’ve missed it. When he was named captain his sophomore year, he gave me the title, saying I earned it too, so we’d share it. Back then the five-year age difference was huge. My friends and I used to sit about and gush about how cute Noah was or they’d all want to come over when Quinn was having a birthday party so they could not only see my brother but his friend as well. Elle and I learned rather quickly that having an older brother was not beneficial in the friends department.
Noah takes my walker and sets it in the back of his truck. “Does this thing have brakes or something to keep it from rolling?”
“Yeah, on the wheels,” I yell. I find myself laughing as I watch him fumble around.
“Got it.” Noah shakes it back and forth for good measure, and then he goes to the door and opens it. Against my better judgment, my eyes are focused on him the entire time, at the way his shirt moves against his muscles and the long strides he takes to get up the stairs quickly. Everything about him is ingrained in my mind. “All right. Are you ready? Do you need anything?”
I shake my head and reach my arms out. I could walk a little with his assistance, but I don’t want to pass up the opportunity to be held by him. It’ll be my last time ever and as much as it’ll torture me later, this is what I want.
Noah cradles me to his chest. I refuse to read anything into the gesture, and can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like to be carried to bed by him. If I’m going to survive today, I need to look at everything objectively and remind myself he’s getting married this weekend. He chose someone else.
He sets me down in the truck and rushes around to the other side. “Do you remember the last time you were in here?” he asks as he pulls away from the curb.
Yes, I think but don’t say it out loud.
Noah turns down the radio, so it’s just us with our breathing, sighing, and the outside traffic to clog my brain with noise. He pulls up to the stoplight and someone yells his name. This is small town life at its best right here.
“My dad knows, Peyton.”
“Knows what?”
“About us. Prom night.”
I chose to stare out the window instead of him. I guess I didn’t realize losing my virginity would be a hot topic for the Westbury men.
“When you were in the coma, I was talking to you. I was trying to bring up happy memories, at least those I consider happy, and prom night was one of them.”
As he drives forward, I continue to stare out the window.
“My dad overheard me talking to you about it. He was pissed until I told him.”
I don’t want to know, but I ask anyway. “Told him what?”
“That I was in love with you and thought we’d be together after that night, but I screwed up by taking you to the cliffs. You see, I thought looking out over the ravine would be romantic, but then you started talking about college and how excited you were to finally be free. I started wondering how free you would be if we were together. Would you feel comfortable going out? How would I feel? My mind went in a hundred different directions so I kept my mouth shut and my feelings to myself.”
As much as I’ve tried to keep the tears away, I can’t. Noah pulls into the parking lot by the football stadium and puts his truck into park. I know I should move, but I can’t.