Becoming Scarlett | ✓

Chapter Fifteen: Decisions

His expression faltered for a moment, having not expected me to be so serious. "Ask away," he said, motioning for me to continue as he leaned back against the old willow tree behind him.

I took in a deep breath, shaking ever so slightly. "I want to know if you were serious about what you said the other day."

Noah's brow furrowed. "I'm going to need you to be a wee more specific there, Scar."

Licking my lips and shifting my weight, I continued, my eyes scanning the students around us for any familiar faces. There were none. "When you said that you... cared. When you told me that you were here if I needed to talk."

He nodded his head, acknowledging that I was making some sense, and I watched his face draw up in confusion. "Absolutely. Although, I'll admit, I didn't think you really minded it."

"I didn't— I mean, I don't— I mean," I stammered, biting into my lip hard enough to draw blood. And I did just that as I recognized the bitter metallic taste on my tongue. Taking another shaky breath, I closed my eyes.

Words, Scarlett; they're just a bunch of letters. They're not that difficult.

"I... I just need someone to talk to, okay?" I said quietly, rubbing at my eyes. I was too afraid to open them and see that expression on his face- the one filled with pity and judgement that so many always wore. "I can't go to my friends, they won't help. They would try, but it wouldn't do any good. I just... I don't want them to look at me differently."

The whisper of his leather jacket moving filled the air, and I could feel that Noah was no longer standing four feet away from me. He was closer, close enough that he could reach out and wrap his fingers gently around my wrists, pulling my hands away from my eyes. The cool breeze that met them blew away any doubt that a few traitorous tears had slid down my cheeks.

"But you don't care if I look at you differently?" he asked softly, the bravado and charm that was usually present in his voice gone.

I opened my eyes then, the voice in my head daring me to take just one look at him. One look would be enough, enough to convince me to turn and run the other way.

But it wasn't, because the expression on his face was soft, gentle. Noah didn't look at me with pity, there was no feigned sympathy on his face. No, there was only a look of concern in his eyes.

Concern for me, and whatever on Earth could be tearing me up like this.

I opened my mouth, and the words I'd been stumbling over earlier just seemed to tumble out in a small voice of their own. "You already do," I said without explanation, leaving whatever meaning was behind them hanging in the air for him to interpret as he pleased.

Noah watched me for a moment, watching a fresh tear slip free from the corner of my eye and down my cheek. And then, without hesitation, he reached up to cup my face softly in his hands. I looked down at the ground as he swiped away the tear with his thumb.

I didn't even flinch.

I could sense eyes watching us. It was common knowledge at Summer Grove that I didn't get along with Noah Kennedy. Yet there I was, not a foot of space between us and I wasn't punching him in the face or screaming at him for breathing on me.

He tipped my head up, forcing me to meet his dark blue eyes again. "I'd be happy to help," Noah said softly, and he pressed his lips to my forehead for a brief moment before swinging his arm over my shoulders and pulling me against his side.

He started towards the parking lot, walking with me tucked under his arm. I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest, the cool October air biting at my bare skin. Noah felt my shivers and pulled me closer to his warm chest, rubbing my arm gently.