Socially Awkward (20 page)

“No, not really,” he shrugs
. “People make mistakes. You got a little carried away, but you didn’t really do any harm.
Maybe
she
just didn’t
expect your project to affect her like that. But if it hadn’t been you—er, Olivia—that
Tom
propositioned, it would’ve been some other girl. Someone Claire might never ha
ve
known about.”

Noah was pretty wise, and understood how these interpersonal relations worked, maybe better than me, the constant student. I
’m
so grateful, I d
on
’t know how to express it.

“There is one thing that does bother me, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “This Sean guy… what’s the real story there? He’s the one from the Common, right?”

Apparently, Noah’s got a better mind for names than Sean does, that much is clear. “Yeah, that’s the same one… and to answer your question, there’s nothing going on between us. He’s with Claire now, or at least as far as I know.”

As much as I want to keep Noah in the dark about my past with Sean, the probing questions he starts to ask are leading me down the road less traveled. Well, not traveled at all, actually. I’ve never told anyone about what happened all those years ago.  As Noah asks why Sean mattered so much, what happened between us, and things like that, I can’t keep him satisfied.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, you know, Jen,” he finally says, sighing in defeat. “But it really matters to me… personally.”

I see it in his eyes before his words become clear. Noah likes me… no, more than that. Noah’s interested in me and he wants to know where my heart is at too. Of course, he should be nervous after hearing a story like the one I just told. I’m surprised he’s handling it so well, actually.

“He broke my heart,” I blurt out, motivated by the feelings I see in Noah’s eyes. “He was the first guy I ever liked. It was a long time ago.”

“What happened?” The question takes all of his courage, I can see. He swallows hard, watching me for a reaction. Maybe even praying to himself that I’ll answer him.

“I was a love-sick teenager and thought I had a special connection with him, but I was wrong…”

He nods, taking my hand in his. The sensation of his warmth, his skin touching mine, it inspires me to tell him everything.

“It was years before he even noticed I was alive. Then, one day, just before prom, he visited my locker. He brought me a rose and asked me out to dinner. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, I was just so happy to be noticed… but not just noticed, either. He wanted to take me out on a date!” I cringe at the memory. Noah squeezes my hand and I continue. “I should’ve known something was wrong when he looked over at a group of the other jocks and winked. They were rolling with laughter… Stupid me, I thought he was asking me out
despite
them, not to have a good laugh with his buddies.”

Noah shifts in his chair, his brow furrows. He’s ac
tually upset with Sean about this, and the thought comforts me. Noah would have protected me, would have fought to stop all the teasing. Where was Noah when I was a teenager?

“I went out to dinner with him and he was so sweet, holding my hand and smiling at me. He drove me home and played total gentleman, opening my door for me and walking me to the porch. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was! And then, just as he leaned in to kiss me, the front door flew open. It was my sister and she was
fuming
.”

“Claire?” Noah whispers.

“Only sister I have,” I say, smiling weakly. “Anyway, she screamed at him. ‘How could you do this to her?’ and ‘This isn’t what I meant at all!’ and ‘You’re disgusting, get out of my house.’ The whole time, Sean’s just gaping at her. He stands there until she finally runs out of steam and shrugs his shoulders. Then he said…”

I take a deep breath, not willing to relive this painful moment. Noah wipes a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, kissing my forehead. “You don’t have to…”

“No, I do,” I choke out the words. “I need to tell someone. It’s been long enough.”

“Okay,” he resigns. “What did he say to you?”

“He said, ‘I only took this cow out for dinner because I thought it’s what you wanted, Claire. You said if I could prove I was a nice guy, you’d go to prom with me…’ It was so blunt, I didn’t know what to do. After that, I locked myself in my room and just cried for the rest of the weekend. That’s when I started hiding Hostess cupcakes in my sock drawer, too.”

“Oh, Jen,” he says breathlessly, gathering me against his chest. I let the last of my tears fall onto his shoulder. They absorb into the cotton of his t-shirt, temporary proof of my pain. “Oh, Jen.”

“You want to kill him don’t you?” I sputter the words out
, a lame attempt at a joke.

He chuckles, deep in his chest. “Maybe later,” he says. “But right now, I had another plan in mind.”

At first. Noah’s kiss
i
s intense, but nothing I c
a
n’t handle. At
least, not until he gently moves
my lips apart and slid
es
his tongue
against mine
. It
’
s enough to break the dam
of my self-control
, and there
’
s nothing I could do to stop myself after th
at. In one fluid movement, I wi
nd my arms back around his neck and hop up
onto his waist
. I d
o
n’t give him any warning, but Noah d
oes
n’t need it. He cat
ches
my legs on either side of his hips, supporting my we
ight around his waist—like we’ve
planned for this to happen or something.

Noah stumble
s
backwards as he adjust
s
his balance, and slam
s
back against my kitchen counter. He sen
ds
several things flying in all directions, but neither of us
is
bothered by the clatter. We just ke
e
p kissing each other as though our lives depend
up
on this passionate connection, like we’d wither up and die
if we broke
apart. It f
e
el
s
nice to see so much of my own need reflected back at me, to be the one needed by another.

A sigh escape
s
my lips then and Noah’s mouth gr
o
w
s
hungrier
for mine. He presses
t
oward me so hard, we almost lose
balance again and, this time, stumble into the kitchen table. My half-drunk hot chocolate fl
ies
from the table, exploding its contents all over the wall. Neither of us
care
very much about this at all. We notice it happen, then le
ave
it
to harden and dry on the yellow-
tiled wall.

I kno
w, however, that if we carr
y
on this way, either one of us would wind up injured or my mother w
ill
let herself in to see what the racket
i
s all about. Quite frankly, neither of those options
appeals to me
. So I br
eak
away from him, long enough to exclaim a quick, “Wait!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Noah let
s
go of me immediately,
guiding
my feet back to the dirtied kitchen floor.

I giggle,
l
ike I
’m
frickin’ twelve or something.

“Wh
y are you laughing?” His face fa
ll
s
.

“Well, we’ve kinda destroyed my kitchen,” I sa
y, shrugging. I smile
playfully so he c
an
see I
’m not
exactly upset about it. “And I just thought it might be safer for all parties involved if we went somewhere with more space.”

As the words si
nk in, Noah return
s
my playful smile. “Oh, I see,” he sa
ys
, leaning in to kiss me again. “Then let’s continue this conversation elsewhere.”

A moment later, I f
i
nd myself hanging over Noah’s shoulder like a rag doll. I laugh
even as I wriggle to free my legs from his grasp. “Put me down!”

“I’ll put you down,” he says
, fighting to keep a serious tone in his voice. “As soon as I find a good spot.”

Noah marches
around my little apartment
with me slung over his shoulder and mak
e
s
a big production of searching for more space. “Well this room is far too tiny,” he declare
s
, standing in my living room. “That TV doesn’t stand a chance. How about in here?”

He poke
s
his head into my bathroom. “Oh no, this won’t do at all. Far too many hair care products.”

Next, he st
i
ck
s
his head into the extra bedroom, where Claire had been staying on the pull-out couch. Upside down, I peek around Noah’s shoulder int
o the room. As he pushes the door open, I half expect
to find Clair
e sitting there. But the room i
s dark, the bed folded
away, and all of her things have
been removed. It hurt
s
all over again.

Noah, ever compassionate Noah, f
e
el
s
the change in my demeanor almost as soon as I d
o.  His shoulders slacken
and he put
s
me down, cupping his hands around my chin.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?"

I sh
a
k
e
my head as one tear roll
s from my eye. I hope
the movement c
an
shake it free and, foolishly, I though
t he might not see it.  I am
, of course, busted.

"Here, now," he sa
ys
, swiping a finger across my cheek to knock the tear away. "This does not seem like the right time to start crying.  I might take it personally, you know."

Despite myself,
I
laugh at his bad joke. Leave it to him to lighten the mood all over again. I c
an
let myself forget all about Claire for one night, I decide, staring into his blue eyes. I deserve a little time to treat myself. Hadn't my mother told me those exact words?

Why the hell not?

"You know," I sa
y
, suppressing a mischievous grin. "I'm feeling better already."

He c
a
n't hide his own matching grin, which thrill
s
me beyond belief.

"Let's just s
tay out of that room," I advise
.

"So where to?"

I wi
nd my fingers between his and tug his arm.  He
’
s
relaxed enough that I can
jerk him towards me a little bit. We t
a
k
e
the five or so steps down the tiny hallway. Standing in front of my bedroo
m door, staring up at Noah, I have
no more reservations left in me at all
.

He
slip
s
his arm behind me to turn the doorknob and open the door,
and
I
reach up to kiss
him again
. Our lips connected, our bodies moving together, I pull him with me through the doorway.