Take Me Tomorrow

Chapter Seven: I Know You're Trouble

Focusing on his lack of attention, I sprung forward, snatching the flyer from his hands. He didn't even budge when I moved back.

"What do you want?" I asked, crumpling the paper in my hands. Maybe he wouldn't notice how I shook then.

He stared at my hands, his fingers still spread out like he held the paper, and then he sighed and dropped his hand to the front of his sage jacket. "I'm looking for Broden."

"Why?"

Noah lowered his eyes to meet mine. "Because I am."

"I would think he'd be in military school," I answered, knowing he had obviously been there already. I didn't know who gave Noah the State-issued uniform, but I knew it was authentic. No one could fake those sideways stitches and get ahold of gold buttons.

Noah shifted, as if he sensed how I studied his clothes. "He wasn't there."

"Oh, and he didn't tell you where he'd be? That's weird," I mocked. "Really, I would've thought he would be waiting for you."

"I hope you're not testing me," Noah's voice danced on the edge of intensity, "because I wouldn't appreciate that, Ms. Gray."

My grip on the paper tightened at the sound of my last name. I had never told him my name, first or last, yet he knew both, and he knew where I went to school. Whether I liked it or not, he knew more about me than I knew about him.

"I don't have to help you," I said.

"And I don't need your help."

"And I don't need your trouble."

"Trouble," Noah repeated. "You think that I"—he pointed to his chest—"am trouble?"

"I know you're trouble." I corrected, turning on my heel. If he wouldn't leave, then I would, and he wouldn't stop me. His fake identity was all he had, and one shout could ruin that.

Indignant, I grabbed my backpack, so I could head home. Thinking he would at least have the decency to allow me to walk away was my first mistake. He took one stride and stood right next to me. When I started walking, he walked with me.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, acting as if following a stranger wasn't taboo in the slightest.

My anger turned to annoyance. "Well, aside from two nights ago," I spoke as I contemplated the best way to retrieve my knife from my backpack, "how about you explain why Broden got beat up?"

Noah's demeanor fell before he switched to his default emotion—stern and indecipherable. "You think that was me?"

"No," I admitted, before I realized I felt that way all along, "but I bet it had to do with you."

His fingers tapped against his black watch. "How long have you known Broden, anyway? I've never heard of you."

I glared at him. "For your information, I haven't heard of you either."

His eyebrows shot up. For the first time since I met him, he was thrown off guard. "So, when exactly did Broden and you become such good friends?"

"When did Broden and you not?"

He stopped walking with me, and I didn't wait for him to catch up. I didn't dare look back. I didn't dare head in the direction of my house either. Noah knew where I lived, and the last thing I wanted was for him to meet me there. I would go to the hospital and watch Falo while Lyn worked.

To stay calm, I concentrated on the sounds of my heels as they tapped across the ground, and shifted my backpack to my other shoulder. At least, I had the comfort of my knife. It was my best friend this time of the day, when the roads began to quiet, and the shops started to empty for the evening. For a few minutes, I was convinced that our encounter was over, and then I heard his boots as he ran up behind me. I almost reached for my blade, but by the time I made the decision to go for it, he strode up next to me, perfectly calm. He offered a boyish smile.