mine

chapter 1

calista

noah davis has been my best friend for as long as i can remember.
he's always been by my side, no matter what.

since our first day of high school, we've fallen into a comfortable routine. he picks me up in the morning, sits with me in class, and—without missing a single day—comes over after practice. noah's been playing football since seventh grade, and i think that's when everyone started liking him.

before then, it was just noah and me against the world. he was my only friend, and i was his. but the day he made that middle school team, it was like a switch flipped. he's still the same noah i've always known—just... different. he has more friends now: his whole team, and a group of cheerleaders who can't seem to get enough of him.

i can't lie—he is attractive. golden blonde hair, green eyes like emeralds, and abs for days. but none of that has ever gone to his head. he's still my noah.

he spends most of his time at my house anyway, because of his dad. he doesn't tell me much, but sometimes i worry. there are days when he just doesn't go home at all, and stays over instead. not that i mind. i love having him around.

after school, around 5:15 on the dot, i heard a knock at my door.
i already knew who it was.

i practically jumped off the couch, tossed my phone aside, and rushed to the door. "hi, noah."

"hey, cal," he said, walking past me. he dropped his gym bag by the couch before heading straight to the kitchen. "when are your parents gonna be home?"

i trailed after him. "not for a while. i think this is an overnight thing." my parents worked a lot, always gone for seminars and conferences. honestly, it was perfect—noah and i could do whatever we wanted.

"cool, we should go to that party tonight," he said sarcastically, brushing back sweaty blonde strands that clung to his forehead before digging in the fridge.

my nose wrinkled. "i hate parties. they're just a bunch of dumb teenagers who can't handle their alcohol." i hopped onto the counter, legs swinging.

he pulled out a water bottle, smirking. "you're just mad you can't handle alcohol."

"oh, i can totally handle alcohol!" i said, shoving his arm playfully.

"you had one sip of my beer and went crazy," he shot back, ruffling my already messy brown hair.
he wasn't wrong. one time, when my parents were gone, he'd stolen some of their beer and i tried it. i couldn't remember anything that happened after that—and noah still refuses to tell me.

"so we set for tonight?" he asked, stepping closer until he was standing between my legs.

"bed's made, stuffed animals are set up, and the movie's rented," i grinned, looping my arms around his neck. "you stink, by the way."

"you wanna sniff?" he joked, scooping me up bridal style.

"hey!!" i squealed, clinging to him. "put me down, you weirdo!"

he just laughed, running upstairs with me in his arms. his grip was firm and warm, strong arms locked around my waist while mine held tight around his neck. when we reached my room, he tossed me gently onto the bed.

"you need to change, nasty," i said, wrinkling my nose dramatically.

"oh, whatever. you know you love me," he teased, turning toward my dresser.

since he was over so often, noah kept a drawer of clothes here. i never minded—it made the room feel more like him, even when he wasn't around. sometimes, when i couldn't sleep, i'd even wear his shirts to bed.