Island Vibes

18. blue

Noah had the widest grin on his face as he eyed up my paint-covered hand, but I was sure he was at least kind of scared. I inched forwards, threatening, and he began backing away.

"I mean, what if I have all these little specks of blue all over my skin forever now because of you?"

"That's probably not gonna happen," Noah said, mostly playing along, while also unwittingly beginning to back himself into the corner of the café. "And even still, there's no need for us both to suffer, right?"

"Right," I nodded, beginning to smirk now, too. "But I think we should match," I said, grinning wickedly.

"I'll make it up to you, I swear," Noah begged. "Just-- not the face, Callie, c'mon. Not the face," he laughed, finding it hard to take the situation super seriously when a painted face was all that was on the line.

I scrunched my mouth up, pretending to think about it, but then lunged before giving an answer.

My hand collided with the side of Noah's face, because he started to duck out of the way a moment too soon. My blue fingertips had managed to swipe paint all over his left cheek, and my reach had been good enough to put streaks of blue in his hair, too.

Noah was cackling, and he continued to dive away while he touched a hand to his face tentatively. "Ya got me," he said, groaning as if he'd been shot and was checking for blood. Instead of dramatically falling to the ground however, he reached for the paint roller I'd put down, and my eyes widened a little. Oops. I hadn't really thought about how he might retaliate to my retaliation.

"Okay, but like... fun's over," I said. "We should, um-- work, you know?"

Noah's eyes were bright when he wielded the paint roller and stretched it out to me in warning. "Now you wanna work? What happened to taking a break?" He had a point. My eyes shot to the exit. I wondered...

"Well, this was the break. It's over," I said, even though it was obvious that this wasn't over.

"You got paint in my hair, dude, no way is this--" he said, cutting himself off and cracking up when I darted for the door. 

Noah was, unfortunately, quicker than me, and he managed to impressively halt me in my tracks. His free arm wound its way around my middle, and he literally swept me off my feet for a second as he pulled me back to stop me from darting out to safety.

I yelped loudly, and Noah laughed. I was sure it was just his regular laugh – the one that usually made me feel warm and fuzzy – but given the circumstances, my ears picked it up as if it were a witch's cackle. He raised the roller into my line of sight.

"What was that about how we should match?" Noah said, something smug in his voice.

"Well, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I fidgeted as I laughed, my hands over his grip. My fingertips were trying to pry his hand back, but he had a good hold around my middle. If I'd been in a cute dress instead of his overalls, and if we'd skipped out on the paint roller, we probably could've passed for a couple taking a bad prom photo.

"Not the convincing argument I was hoping for, Cal," Noah clicked his tongue and jolted me backwards, lifting my feet off the ground again. I screeched, my laugh becoming a little breathless and my stomach starting to ache from it all.

"I mean--" I began, appreciating the second chance. "You look good in blue! You suit it, and I-- I would look just, um, terrible--" I cut myself off because I started cracking up at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Noah, behind me, tutted, and I groaned, grossed out, as I felt him run the paint up the left side of my face. The sponge of the roller was smooth and springy, but the paint felt super weird as it coated my cheek. "It's so cold," I hissed, and Noah laughed, his grip loosening around my waist.

"Your hand must've warmed it up for me before," he commented, suggesting this his experience had been different. He shrugged casually and nudged me gently away so he could see his handiwork. I caught sight of us in the big windows. My glassy reflection was grinning dumbly back at me, while Noah was putting the roller back in the tray. I didn't want to touch the paint I had on me, but I could see that Noah had at least mostly avoided my hair – a true gentleman.

I looked back at him, and he bit his lip.

"And you said you'd look terrible in blue," Noah said.

I smiled, recognizing the familiar feeling that was running through me, and then dropped my eyes to the floor.

"We're really bad at this Not Flirting thing, aren't we?"

Noah's expression dropped, and he wrinkled his nose up. "Sorry," he said, sighing the word out. "I don't know what's wrong with me. It's just-- natural, to me?" His tone ticked up uncertainly.

I shook my head, letting a smirk creep back on to my face. "It's not you, it's me," I joked. I meant it though – this wasn't really his fault. I mean, it was his fault a little bit, but I was starting to realize this was more my problem than I wanted it to be. "It's just super weird being here and-- you're like, a lifeline. A really handsome lifeline," I grinned, rolling my eyes at the way it made Noah's face light up.

I paused for a second to take that in, before steeling myself. "I like you," I continued, gathering up all my guts to just be honest. Noah had always been weirdly open and easy with me, and... I could reciprocate. It was just the two of us, and I knew he wasn't about to judge me.

"And... the thing is, you have a million things going on in your life, and I just have this stupid café," I said, realizing too late that I was getting a little too deep and emotional, "and you."

Noah watched me for a second, and I could practically see his brain whirring away to process everything I was feeling. I'd known it all along – it was only fair he got to know, too. He had friends, a girlfriend, a sister, a house, a job. I had a café to fix up and ditch at the end of summer, and I had a boy to flirt with who couldn't be mine.

Noah eventually wandered over to me and just wrapped me in a hug.

"I can't believe you wanna talk about this while we're covered in paint," Noah murmured into my hair. "How'm I supposed to take you seriously when you look like you're auditioning for Braveheart?" He chuckled quietly and I tried to hold in both a smile and the tears that were threatening to spill out. I hadn't meant to get deep.

"You're the worst," I said, when he pulled back, and I flicked my eyes up to the ceiling to keep myself from crying.

"No, you," Noah said, grinning when I broke and laughed a little.

He blinked down at the patch of blue that I'd just transferred onto his shirt from my face, and then back up at me. "Does this count as a business expense?"

I rolled my eyes, my mood starting to perk up. Noah could tell we still had a way to go, though, and that was when he clapped his hands and picked up his stuff from the table. He jangled his keys.

"C'mon, let's extend this break. You need to see something," he said, jerking his head to signal that I should head out.

"But I'm still in overalls. And I'm still blue," I complained, my voice bordering on whiny.

"We're both blue," Noah laughed. "Who cares?"