Chapter 8
I GAVE LEE a rundown of the date, and in return he gave me a sympathetic smile.
‘Would you even want another date though? It doesn’t sound like you had such a great time . . .’
‘Well, not really,’ I mumbled, picking at some non-existent fluff on my jeans. ‘But I don’t know. I probably would’ve said yes if he asked— Ouch! What was that for?’ I exclaimed when Lee smacked my thigh sharply.
‘Too nice!’ he scolded me. ‘You didn’t like the guy as more than a friend, obviously. But you would’ve led him on just trying to be nice.’
‘I wouldn’t have led him on. Just . . . given him a second chance. It’s not like people find their soul mate on the first date or anything.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t have led him on!’
‘Yes you would. Not intentionally. But because you were being polite.’
I sighed and flopped back so I was lying flat on my back on the grass. ‘Am I really that bad?’
‘You’re not nice to Noah.’
‘Yes, but that’s Noah. Thanks, by the way,’ I added sarcastically, ‘for telling me he was giving me a ride.’
‘Oh, yeah. My bad. But, hey, you didn’t kill each other.’
‘I was ready to, believe me. And the look he gave Cody when he showed up! I swear to God, your brother is the most infuriating jackass on the whole planet!’
Lee just laughed at me. I scowled up at the clouds rolling by over my head, cotton wool against the bright blue. I felt my breaths grow more and more even; there was something calming about watching clouds.
‘I’m sorry,’ Lee said eventually. ‘You’re funny when you’re mad.’
‘Whatever.’
‘Anyway. Has Cody spoken to you since?’
It was three on a Saturday afternoon. And no, Cody hadn’t texted me or called me, and something told me he hadn’t had a great time on the date either.
‘No,’ I answered him. ‘He hasn’t.’
Lee shrugged. ‘He’s not interested.’
‘What? How would you know? Maybe he’s busy. Or maybe he’s playing hard to get or something.’
Lee’s smile twisted up to one side in sympathy. ‘Sorry, Elle, but he’s just not interested. Trust me. I’m a guy. I know how the male populous operates when it comes to girls.’
‘Fine,’ I muttered. ‘Maybe he isn’t interested anymore. Maybe I should’ve just sucked it up and kissed him.’
‘See, there you go again,’ Lee grumbled. ‘It’s not like you were under any obligation to kiss him. So you guys didn’t hit it off – big deal. Move on.’
‘I can’t quite decide if your advice is helpful or not.’
‘I’m not a chick. I’m not going to sit here and dissect your night.’
‘You just listened to me dissect it,’ I muttered.
‘Exactly.’
I sighed. ‘Fine, I guess you’re right. It’s going to be awkward in school though, don’t you think?’
‘Only if you make things awkward.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’ I suddenly sat bolt upright, giving myself a head rush. ‘Don’t tell your brother how badly my date with Cody went, okay?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Just – if he asks. Say it went fine. If you have to say anything, tell him that Cody and I just didn’t click. But don’t tell him it was as bad as I told you.’
‘Okay . . .’ he said warily, not questioning me.
I didn’t want to even imagine the smug look on Noah’s face if he found out how my date with Cody had really gone. Whatever reasons he had for not wanting me to have a boyfriend, Noah was doing a pretty good job of keeping me single.
I sighed to myself quietly, and closed my eyes, the sun warming my cheeks. I felt Lee lie down beside me, and we just stayed like that, basking in the sunshine, too content and relaxed to say anything much.
The whole weekend passed in a lazy way. We couldn’t be bothered to do much of anything. We watched some movies and lay around in the sun, dive-bombed in Lee’s pool, and tried to get some homework done (we didn’t get very far with that one). So Monday rolled around a whole lot faster than I would’ve liked.
I had chemistry first lesson. With Cody. Who hadn’t called or texted me all weekend. I didn’t know whether it was just as well he didn’t want a second date, or whether I should be worried that he didn’t like me.
A few people had already texted or spoken to me asking how the date had gone. I always said, ‘Okay.’ When they asked if I was going to see him again I said, ‘I don’t know.’ When they asked if we’d kissed, I had to say, ‘No.’
But now I’d have to face him and I didn’t know how to act.
Yeah, Cody was nice and easy to talk to. But I didn’t like him in that way. He obviously felt the same about me, since he hadn’t called me. I should’ve been relieved about that; if the feeling was mutual, it couldn’t be too awkward between us, right?
‘Aw, no!’ I looked up from my locker to see Dixon walking toward me. ‘You’re wearing trousers again. I miss the skirt. You looked hot.’
‘Very funny.’
‘I wasn’t being funny,’ he said with a laugh. I rolled my eyes and carried on trying to find my homework for math. ‘Anyway, everybody’s talking about your big date with Cody . . .’
‘Why? It wasn’t that interesting. Really.’
‘Yeah, I know that. But he’s the first guy to risk asking you out.’
I shrugged, trying not to grind my teeth when I remembered how angry Noah had made me with the whole ‘trying to stop me getting hurt’ thing.
‘Cody told everyone you didn’t want to kiss him.’
‘It’s not that— Wait, he told everyone? He actually said that?’
‘Well. I say that. It was a couple of guys who pestered him about it, and it got out pretty quick. Just because, you know, your date was such big news. So . . . everyone now thinks you didn’t want to kiss him.’
‘It’s just . . . I don’t know . . .’
‘Hey, you don’t have to justify yourself,’ Dixon told me with another big smile. ‘It’s just that some people are going to talk and ask questions, so be ready for that.’
‘Thanks for the warning,’ I muttered.
‘You’re welcome.’
And he was right – people kept coming up to me, saying, ‘Is it true you wouldn’t kiss Cody? Why didn’t you kiss him?’
The first time, I panicked. I didn’t want to tell them the real reason, so I babbled something along the lines of, ‘I – I didn’t feel too great. I didn’t know if it was contagious.’
What a lie. I’m sure they all knew it, but if they did, not one of them showed it.
I walked into chemistry and Cody was there already. I dithered a second, wondering if I should sit with him or not.
He shot me a smile though, so I went to join him.
‘Hey,’ I said casually.
‘You know, if you were ill on Friday, you should’ve said,’ he commented.
‘I know, but I felt okay and I didn’t want to cancel.’ I tried not to mumble too much. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘It’s not a problem.’
‘So, uh . . . Yeah . . .’ I cleared my throat and Cody laughed nervously.
‘I don’t want to sound too much of a jerk or anything but . . . I was thinking about it and—’
‘We’re better off as friends?’ I filled in, then regretted it when I realized he might not have been saying that. Oh man, what if I’d just dug myself into a grave?
‘Uh, yeah,’ he said, giving me a nervous smile. ‘No offence. We just didn’t seem to . . . click.’
‘None taken,’ I said, smiling. ‘I thought exactly the same.’ I hope my relief wasn’t too evident. ‘So did you do the homework? I didn’t get question eight.’
And just like that, my life had snapped back to its (sadly) romance-free ways.
We were working on the banner for the kissing booth. The letters were cut out and Lee had smoothed the edges; we just needed to paint them and then nail them onto the booth itself. We had some decorations back at my house, and the posters were ready too. We also had a couple of boards with the price on.
‘Everybody’s been asking me all week what happened with you and Cody,’ Lee said to me. It was after school on Wednesday afternoon. We needed to hurry our asses up to get everything ready to set the booth up on Friday night.
‘You haven’t said anything too incriminating?’
‘I haven’t told them the truth, no,’ he laughed, dunking his brush into the pink paint again. ‘I don’t know why you said you were sick though.’
‘It was believable,’ I defended myself. ‘First thing I thought of.’
‘Yeah, I guess. But loads of the guys reckon it’s Noah scaring him off.’
‘He did look pretty threatening when I was waiting for Cody,’ I admitted, printing with my lipstick sponge onto one of the already dry letters.
Lee shrugged. It was a little while before he broke the silence again. ‘Shelly . . .’
‘Yeah?’
‘Does he ever scare you? I mean . . . I know he’s not quite the Incredible Hulk or anything, but he can lose his temper kinda quickly.’
‘That’s just the way he is. I grew up with him around. He couldn’t scare me – I know that he’s . . . intimidating . . .’
‘I guess,’ Lee said, nodding. Suddenly he dropped his paintbrush into the pot, splattering me with pastel-pink paint – my face, my blouse, my tie, my hair . . .
‘Lee!’ I screamed.
‘Sorry!’
I grabbed a brush and dunked it into the pot of black, totally prepared to flick it over Lee. But something cold and wet landed on my face and neck as he flicked me again, making me jump so much that I dropped my paintbrush, leaving a trail down my front.
Lee spluttered before collapsing into laughter. I scowled at him, waiting for him to stop.
‘It’s not funny, Lee!’
‘Yes it is! You sh-sh-should’ve s-seen your . . . your face!’ He was holding his side now. I glared and grabbed my bag. ‘W-where you going?’
‘The locker rooms to wash this crap off of my face,’ I snapped. ‘And stop laughing!’
‘I can’t help it!’ he gasped, bent double. ‘Your face!’
I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. I thought I had a spare blouse in my locker. We’d be going for a burger later and I did not want to go out looking like a Picasso.
I always thought the locker rooms at school were really weird: a big communal corridor, with notices and stuff pinned up, which led to the ‘fitness suite’, with its treadmills and weights, and the fields outside. The girls’ were on the far left, the boys’ on the right.
Just as I came into the corridor, the whole football team poured through the door. I’d already yanked off my tie and undone another button; I hadn’t stopped to think I might not be alone.
The boys all slowed down seeing me, and I stopped in my tracks.
And then the laughter broke out, all of them finding me hilarious, apparently.
‘What happened?’ Jason asked, biting his lip hard to try and keep from laughing.
‘We were painting the banner for our booth,’ I said. ‘Lee had a bucket of paint. Do I need to say anything more?’
He shook his head. Most of the boys started trailing into the locker rooms, still laughing and looking at me. I caught a couple of them shamelessly checking out my semi-unbuttoned shirt and put an arm across my chest.
‘Aw, come on,’ I said, doing a twirl and giving them a big grin – I’d rather make a joke out of it than be embarrassed. ‘Do I look that bad?’
‘Well, I’d pay to see you in the art gallery,’ said one of the boys, laughing. I rolled my eyes at him and drifted down the corridor toward the girls’ changing rooms, calling a goodbye over my shoulder.
A hand caught my arm, making me stumble backward, and then steadied me before I fell.
I turned to see who it was. Then the smile on my face dropped. ‘Oh.’
‘What’re you doing?’ hissed Noah. ‘You don’t walk around half dressed, Elle.’
‘I’ll walk around however the hell I want, thanks,’ I snapped back, jerking my arm away. ‘It’s no big deal. It’s not like I’m prancing around in my underwear, for Pete’s sake.’
‘Yeah but still . . .’ His eyes trailed down me, then he gave me a stern look.
‘Leave me alone already!’ I exclaimed, glaring at him. ‘Honestly, it’s bad enough you’re being so overprotective, but you don’t have to be so . . . extreme!’
‘So what happened with you and Cody? I know for a fact the whole “being sick” thing was a lie.’
I gaped. Was he blackmailing me? ‘You didn’t tell anybody, did you?’
He smirked, giving me a patronizing look. ‘I don’t gossip. And no, I didn’t tell them. Because I figured you had a good reason. So what went down?’
I shrugged. ‘Nothing.’
‘Something clearly happened – I know you well enough to spot when you’re lying. So what’s the truth?’
I bit the inside of my cheek, debating whether to tell Noah or just ask him to keep his nose out of it. But I thought maybe if I didn’t tell him, he’d jump to the stupid conclusion that Cody had overstepped the line.
While I was debating this, I couldn’t help but notice just how hot Noah looked in his football gear, with the shoulder pads and his helmet tucked under his arm. His hair was a little damp with sweat and he just looked . . . wow.
Before he noticed I was checking him out, I finally answered him. ‘He was going to kiss me at the end of the night, but I kissed him on the cheek instead. He didn’t try to do anything, it was a totally normal situation, and I made a fool of myself by turning my head. It’s not a big deal. It got blown out of proportion. It’s just embarrassing.’
He studied my face for a moment before saying, ‘That’s it? You’re sure?’
I got the feeling he was trying not to laugh.
I huffed, just about ready to stamp my foot. ‘Yeah. Completely sure. Why are you always so dramatic? It’s not like any guy in this school is going to make me do anything I don’t want to do, anyway.’
He raised an eyebrow, as if to say I was way too naïve. I just shrugged it off.
‘Now can I go wash this freaking paint off, or does the Spanish Inquisition have more pointless questions?’
He smirked a little. ‘Someone’s moody.’
‘I’m covered in paint and you’re giving me the third degree for nothing! Of course I’m not in a good mood.’ I stormed away to the changing rooms.
But when I saw myself in the mirror . . . even I had to laugh. I was such a mess! Paint flecked all through my hair, streaked over my face and dripping down my neck, patterning my blouse . . .
It wasn’t so funny when it wouldn’t come off, though.
Or when I found no spare clothes in my gym locker.
After about ten minutes of tireless scrubbing, I got some of the paint out of my hair and most of it off my face. It had dripped down under my blouse, so I was stood there in my trousers and bra when the door opened.
Thinking it was Lee, I didn’t turn around.
‘Hey, Elle? Lee said he’s going for some food with the guys, but if you want a ride home . . .’ Noah trailed off when he saw me standing there.
I froze, blinking at my reflection in the mirror. I felt my cheeks warm up, and twisted my head around, hoping I wasn’t blushing as hard as my reflection was.
‘What?’ I snapped.
‘Nothing.’
‘No – what were you saying?’
‘Oh. Oh, right, yeah, well, um, Lee’s leaving to grab some food with the guys, but he said if you wanted to go straight home, then I have to give you a ride. And considering you still look like some kind of Picasso . . .’
I looked at the flecks of pink paint splattered over my collarbone and laughed, trying to cover my awkwardness at him seeing me in my bra. He’d seen me in a bikini before, but that seemed . . . different, somehow. ‘Yeah. Tell Lee to go ahead.’
‘Sure. How long are you going to be?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Since you’re going to take me straight home, I can shower there, so . . .’ I pulled on my damp blouse and did the buttons up hastily, then slung my bag onto my shoulder. ‘Let’s go.’
I wasn’t really looking forward to being in the car with Noah – I was half expecting a lecture or something.
‘How’s the booth coming along?’ he asked conversationally as we walked across to the parking lot. I looked at him warily, and he caught my eye, shrugging a little. ‘What?’ he said. ‘I can’t talk to you?’
My only reply was to raise my eyebrows skeptically at him.
He shrugged again. ‘Whatever. So, are you going to answer me or not?’
I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. I felt like I should be mad at him, but I couldn’t seem to find a legitimate reason to be mad at him.
I guess Noah just had a strange effect on me. Although whether that effect was good or bad, I hadn’t figured out yet.
‘It’s going okay. We still have stuff to do before Friday, but we’ll manage – as long as Lee doesn’t start painting me instead of the letters again.’
‘Well, you made a good piece of Impressionism, I’ll give you that.’
I halted in my tracks, making Noah stop a few paces ahead when he realized I wasn’t with him. I raised my eyebrows at him.
‘What?’
‘I think that was a compliment. Noah Flynn just gave someone a compliment. Contact the newspapers, somebody.’
He gave a sarcastic laugh, but I saw the twinkle in his eyes. I smirked back and carried on walking with him.
‘Are you going to come to the carnival?’ I asked him.
‘Yeah. I kind of have to. It’s one of those things all of the teachers “encourage” to show “school spirit” and shit.’
‘Thinking of stopping by the kissing booth?’
He cocked an eyebrow at me, with an obnoxious look on his face. ‘Why are you asking, Shelly?’
‘All the girls, especially the ones working the booth, are asking me to persuade you to stop by. The chance to kiss Noah Flynn is just too exciting a prospect for some.’
He smirked wider. ‘Ah. You’re not asking for yourself then?’
In my dreams.
‘No, definitely not.’
‘Well, I’m not making any promises. You can tell them I might stop by, though, when they ask again. And knowing me, they will ask again.’
‘You’re so full of yourself,’ I muttered, shaking my head. I paused, looking around for his car. He’d gotten out a set of keys, but I didn’t see it here.
‘Where’s your car?’ I asked, following him.
‘I didn’t bring it today.’
‘So . . . how’d you get here?’
‘I took my bike.’
I groaned, lagging behind, then stopped entirely, noticing the sleek red and black motorbike he’d created from the piece of junk he’d had sitting in his shed. It looked awesome, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve never been on a motorbike in my life; it scared the hell out of me just to think about it.
And here I was with no option but to get on a two-wheel death trap. With Noah, no less.
‘If I die, it’s all your fault.’
‘You’re not gonna die, Elle. Here. You can even have the helmet.’
‘You only have one helmet? But then, what if—?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he interrupted me. ‘I haven’t crashed this thing yet.’ He patted the handlebars firmly, as if to show how sturdy the thing was.
‘But what if you fall off? What if you crash? You’re supposed to wear the helmet for a reason! Do you have some kind of death wish?’ My voice got more and more hysterical with every syllable. I had my eyes on the bike the whole time. It seemed more monstrous and intimidating by the second.
‘Worried about me, Shelly?’ Noah teased.
My eyes narrowed. He was smirking, his eyes sparkling at me, tossing the helmet gently from hand to hand. I snatched it off him.
‘You don’t have to be scared of the bike,’ he said, patting it like it was a loveable pet dog. ‘It won’t bite.’
‘Maybe not, but you might,’ I muttered under my breath. But he heard me, and chuckled. He tucked his bag into the hollow space underneath the seat, and put my bag in after.
I rammed the helmet onto my head, gritting my teeth. I so did not want to have to do this . . . But I had no choice. I had to get home somehow before I went to join Lee and the guys. Though I’d rather have gone out like this than get on the bike with Noah.
I fumbled with the straps. The helmet was huge and I couldn’t see what I was doing. It smelled kind of citrusy. Like Noah’s pillow had. It was a nice smell.
I jerked my thoughts back to the matter at hand – getting the helmet on so I wouldn’t be so likely to die.
‘Here . . .’ Noah’s hands brushed over mine and fixed the helmet for me. His fingertips tickled my neck, and for some reason I felt all shaky. Weird . . . I shook it off, attributing it to dread at having to get on this so-called vehicle.
‘Don’t look so scared.’ He smiled at me – another real, genuine smile that showed his dimple. It made my heart somersault. I loved seeing that smile.
He slid onto the bike and I cautiously slipped on behind him. Thank God I’m not in a skirt was all I could think.
Noah reached behind him and his hands found mine, pulling my arms around his waist. I stiffened a little, and he told me to ‘Just relax, Elle.’
With a kick, the bike roared to life and growled beneath me. We hadn’t moved half an inch but my arms squeezed him tight around the waist and I pulled myself as close as I could get. My heart pounded, terrified.
I heard his laugh over the rushing blood in my ears and the menacing growl of the engine.
Then we were off.
I wanted to yell at him, and scream, ‘Slow down! You’re going to kill us!’
Except when I opened my mouth, any sound I might’ve made was snatched by the wind rushing past us. We were hurtling along the roads, slipping through traffic and zipping past lines of cars and trucks.
My hair was whipped out from under the helmet and my blouse was buffeted against me. I couldn’t hear anything except blood rushing in my ears, the roar of the bike, and the wind.
When Noah yanked the bike around and came to a sudden, smooth stop outside my house, I couldn’t move.
My arms were still curled tightly around his toned stomach. My legs were as close to him as I could get them.
Noah slowly peeled my arms away, and that jerked me back to life. I slid off the bike, my legs feeling so wobbly they made Jell-O look steady, and my shaky hands fumbled with the helmet.
Noah undid it for me in one swift motion and pulled it off my head.
‘Your hair’s all static,’ he said, and reached up to ruffle it.
I scowled, and my trembling hands smoothed it out – which was impossible. It felt like a bird’s nest. It’d take me hours to brush all these knots out. The leftover paint I’d missed wouldn’t help much.
‘Oh come on,’ he said, leaning on his bike casually. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that.’
‘I hated it,’ I told him truthfully.
‘You didn’t love the wind in your hair, or the freedom, or the sheer speed of it?’
I shook my head. ‘Not a chance. I hated it.’
‘Even cuddling up to me?’ he asked with a cocky smirk. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that.’
‘Noah, that was the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. I don’t care how hot you are, I hated every second of that.’
‘You think I’m hot?’ His smirk grew wider and I felt my cheeks get warm.
‘Oh, shut up. It’s not like you don’t know you are.’
‘True. But it’s nice to hear you admit it.’
‘You’re such a jerk, you know that? And I’m never getting on that bike ever again in my life.’
‘But I’m a hot jerk, right?’ he teased.
I glowered. ‘Shut up already. Just get my bag out. Please,’ I added.
He rolled his eyes but handed me my bag.
‘Thank you,’ I said curtly, and marched up to the door.
‘Oh, Elle?’
‘What?’ I sighed, turning around to give him an exasperated look.
‘You have a little paint . . . Just there.’ He brushed the side of his face to demonstrate, a giant smirk on his face. I glared and slammed the front door behind me.
‘Elle? Is that you?’ Dad called. He popped out of the kitchen and did a double take. ‘What happened?’
‘You don’t even want to know.’