Chapter 3
The following Monday, I was exhausted. Although I racked up about twelve hours of sleep on Saturday night, I was still tired after my eight hours of sleep on Sunday night. I entered the school building with my bag hoisted on my shoulder. I was a bit on edge because I’d received a call from Marissa about how Noah stormed into the house enraged after I’d left. She said that he refused to tell her what I did. After I explained what I had done, she proceeded to inform me that she can’t save me from this one because it wasn’t accidental. So there is a maniac on the loose and he’s after me.
When the first period bell rang, I rushed to gym. I need to be in the eye of the public and the hallway isn’t as filled as it could be. Once I reached the gymnasium, I sighed in relief until I realized that I have this class with him. I shuffled towards the girl’s locker room and hastily changed, exiting the room and leaning against the wall.
“What are we playing today?” one of the boys asked the coach.
“Volleyball," the coach replied, shrugging off the groans of the students. I felt my stomach flip. There is no way I’m playing volleyball again. If I’m on the team facing the bleachers, I might hit Noah again and if I’m on the side that isn’t facing him, my back is turned and he can throw his high tech camera at my back and paralyze me.
“Same teams as last time, same sides, as well,” I groaned aloud and the coach looked at me. “Is there a problem, Ms. West?”
I knew that I wasn’t supposed to answer him but I nodded, taking him by surprise. Although I’m quiet, it doesn’t mean that I don’t harbor my own opinions because I can assure you that I do. “Yes, I don’t want to play.”
“You can take the zero and it’ll drop your grade from a C- to a D. Take your pick.” He walked away, going to sit on the bleachers. Who knew participation was such a huge percentage of a gym grade? Obviously not the kids splayed out on the bleachers.
I sluggishly walked towards Ronnie’s side of the net, not taking my eyes off of Noah. He was drawing something; his eyebrows were knit together as he lightly stroked the paper, his lip curled into his mouth as his teeth pressed down lightly on the skin. “You, girl!”
That’s me, isn’t it? Ronnie groaned. “Can you pay attention? I said you’re serving.” He motioned for me to walk towards the back of the rectangle towards the spot where I’m supposed to serve. I shook my head, struggling to create words to express my feelings of total discomfort. “Can you speak?”
“I don’t want to serve,” I told him.
“We’re getting all of the bad servers out of the way, now hurry up," he told me, grabbing my shoulders and placing me in the small section with the ball in my arms. I stared at it, last time I had one of these, I chucked it at Noah’s head. I closed my eyes and exhaled before raising the ball and hitting it. It soared over the net and I held back a cheer and instead, tried to keep my eyes on the ball.
The ball came to me again and I hit it but instead of going over the net, it slammed into the back of Ronnie’s head, causing a cheer of ‘oh!’ to chorus throughout the gymnasium. My eyes were wide as Ronnie turned around and glared at me, the ball dropping to the ground, creating a soft thud. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, struggling to make words come out of it. He quickly began advancing towards me and I took a few steps back, turning and sprinting away from him as he chased me around, screaming obscenities at me. I´m guessing Ronnie doesn’t like me very much, either.
A moment later, two people managed to restrain Ronnie while I stood there panting heavily even though I only ran for a mere twenty six seconds. Ronnie stood there angrily, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at me. He refused to go to the nurse’s office and I sheepishly joined the team once again, denying the server’s job. Everyone on my team seemed grateful for my smart decision. If only they’d listened to me sooner.
I looked around and saw Noah shaking his head while he stared at his notebook, his earbuds now plugged into his ears. I’m glad he’s having a good time. At least one of us is.
<<>><<>>
“Any questions?” Ms. Knightly asked, her eyes skimming the classroom. I wanted to reach my hand into the air and ask why we were studying this. It was totally irrelevant and if it wasn’t going to be on the test, like she previously stated, then what’s the point of even learning this?
She nodded and lifted up a pile of papers. “This will be your homework.” She glanced at the clock. “Since we have ten minutes left, you can start to work on it now.”
I looked at the paper as it touched my desk and suppressed a groan. It was a bunch of questions about stupid things. I sighed before lifting my pen and circling answers. When the bell rang, I was halfway finished. I might as well finish the rest at lunch or during my free period, which I have right after lunch.
Scuttling towards American Literature, I stuffed my paper into my bag, trying to keep it unscathed as it was shoved between two text books. I failed. Ignoring the urge to fix it, I began picking up the pace. I needed to get to class quickly. Glancing back over my shoulder every few seconds, I rammed into a petite yet tall figure. My head whipped around to see Marissa staring at me with furrowed eyebrows, laughing lightly as I offered her my hand, a panicked look on my face. I kept glancing behind me and jumping nervously at every sudden noise. “Paranoid?”
I nodded, looking around anxiously. “I don’t know if this will help you but he won’t cause you physical pain.” I didn’t miss the quieter, ‘I think,’ at the end of her sentence.
“Thank you, that makes me feel ten times better than I previously felt,” I muttered sarcastically.
“You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the sarcastic type if we wouldn’t have talked in that bathroom. I always thought you were just another quiet, shy girl,” she told me, dusting off the back of her pants.
I nervously nodded before glancing over my shoulder. “That’s a common misconception. Well, I have to get to American Literature, I’ll see you later.”
“Wait. I wanted to know if you want to sit next to me today at lunch.” She grabbed my elbow but released it when I turned to look at her.
I bit my lip. “I’m not sure… the other volleyball players probably won’t like me. Besides, I do play the game terribly.”
She laughed. “Well, if you want to- there’s always an open seat. They’ll like you, trust me.”
I highly doubt that but I smiled and nodded before sprinting towards my next class. Okay, so maybe I didn’t sprint- but I walked at a pretty daring speed in a half filled hallway. I was going to be late if I didn’t get to class in about 30 seconds. I sighed as I sat down in my usual seat, glancing around casually before my eyes caught sight of someone. All this time, I wasn’t running from him- I was running to him!
Noah was seated in the front of the class, his eyes glued to a thick book on the table. For the most part, he was almost finished with the book. I was curious as to what the book was but I’m definitely not going to ask him. I’ll have to wait until he puts it away. Or maybe when the teacher takes it away; our teacher isn’t a fan of reading during class unless we’re supposed to be. Despite the fact that this is an English class, reading is prohibited unless you’re granted permission.
The teacher came into the class and I was waiting until she’d yell at him to put his book away. I mean, she did it to me numerous times! Even though this is American Literature, it doesn’t mean we can read random books and ignore her teaching. Mrs. Walters continued to teach and I swear I saw her glance at Noah every few minutes, her eyes flickering from him to his book. Yet she never said a single thing to him. How unfair.
About twenty five minutes into class, he finally closed his book, staring at the cover of it for a few minutes. I didn’t recognize the book’s cover and it was too far for me to read the words on it. A few minutes later, he opened the book to the last page and read it again. He then closed it before placing it in his bag, which had a few other books in it. He grabbed another book and took it out, opening it to the first page. I gaped at him before glancing between the teacher and him.
“Is there a problem, Ms. West?” Mrs. Walters asked, halting her mini lesson on common grammatical errors. She decided to point it out seeing as we often make the mistake ourselves.
Yes, ma’am, you’re being extremely unfair. He can get lost in a world of fictional characters while I’m stuck listening to your boring lectures, surrounded by idiots who aren’t even paying attention. “No, ma’am.”
“Good, now would you like to pay attention and stop staring at other students?” she asked.
Because I was the only person in the second row and Noah was the only student in the first row, she’d technically given me away. I shrunk lower in my chair as people snickered behind me. Thanks a lot, Mrs. W. I’ll remember this when I graduate next year. You’ll get a special dedication as I walk off of the stage and it’s known as the one finger salute.
<<>><<>>
When I reached lunch, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I’d endured 5 of my classes already. I have my two easy classes after this; study hall and art. Although I’m nothing close to an artist, I still find the class easy because Mr. Komodo is a very kind teacher when it comes to grading. Especially when you try, and I try very hard. After getting my lunch, I plopped down in my seat- my legs outstretched under the small café like table and placed atop of the opposite chair. My bag was beside me, resting on the floor.
I sighed when I looked around, already bummed out. I couldn’t help but glance over at Noah’s table, where he was casually reading. He read quickly, that was one thing I noticed while staring at him. He also furrows his eyebrows when he’s concentrating. Deciding I might as well feed my brain too, I pulled my reading glasses and a book from my bag and began reading, my eyes skimming the pages as I flipped them occasionally.
“You two are way too much alike, you know?” My head snapped up at the sound of Marissa’s voice. I looked up, slightly disoriented from being pulled back into the real world. I turned to my left and saw Noah looking up around the empty cafeteria. He made no attempt at getting up quickly and instead, slowly closed his book bag, using his thumb as a page holder. He got up and walked towards the stairway doors, pushing through them and disappearing behind the large wooden separators.
“Why is he so mean?” I absentmindedly muttered as I stood up and stretched, allowing my limbs to extend further than they are meant to. I wonder if I should consult my physician about my stretches. They’re pretty metal.
“He has a… rough past," she muttered, earning my attention. She sighed. “I’d tell you but it’s not my business, okay?”
I nodded understandingly. He probably was friendless in middle school. I doubt he’s carrying much baggage; he’s only about 17. I’m not quick to judge though; I usually see the good in people despite how their demeanors are. But I can’t help but struggle to find something good in Noah, aside from his appealing appearance. Maybe it’s the books he reads? Or the fact that he’s a guy reading in general? This piqued my curiosity even more and I sighed, knowing that eventually I’d have to get to the bottom of this, whether I (or Noah) like it or not.
<<>><<>>
When I got home, I saw suitcases by the door. I sighed; knowing the speech my mother is going to give me in approximately ten minutes. I practically know the speech by heart after this many years of hearing it. “Mom!”
“In here!” my mother called from somewhere in the house. Trudging up the steps, I turned to see her in her room, packing her laptop and it’s charger into their rightful case. When she saw me, she smiled. “Hey honey.”
I sighed, falling onto her bed. I didn’t even give her a chance to explain herself and instead, started the conversation bluntly. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
She nodded, sitting down beside me. She offered me a sad smile. “I have another signing tour.”
“How long are you going to be gone?” I asked her, sighing quietly.
She pursed her lips. “A few weeks, nothing more than two months. I promise you that I will call every day," she told me, kissing my forehead. "The neighbors will check in occassionally, make sure you're doing alright. You know the drill."
I nodded, holding back my tears. I know I should be used to the fact that my mother is gone most of the time, and when she’s here- she’s usually writing another couple of chapters for her book, but I just miss her presence when she’s gone. I hate living alone, especially because I’m technically not even old enough to live alone. Hey, at least I’ll be used to it when I move away, right? “How many signings do you have to do?”
“36," she told me, a small smile on her lips. “And if you turn on the television at some point, I’ll be up there.”
I nodded, a small smile falling onto my face. “You promise you’ll Skype me?”
She nodded. “Of course!”
I smiled, wiping away my tears. I wrapped my arms around her, catching her off guard. Her arms came around my shoulder and she sighed heavily. “I know, baby, but at least you have an awesome mom who loves you so much.”
I laughed. “Way to be modest mom.”
She grinned. “Now, you know I have to say the rules again- especially because you have a bunch of new friends, no throwing parties, no staying out late on school days, no skipping school or class, and no fighting. Practice playing your piano, too; I swear you’re getting a bit worse every time I hear you.”
She lightly punched my arm with the latter sentence, earning a flat look from me. “I practice every day.”
She laughed. “I know, just promise me you’ll follow the rules.”
I followed her downstairs. “I promise. Besides, I have one new friend.”
She turned to give me a stern look. “Yeah, whatever you say, Kenna. And please do not go over your limit this month with the credit card, I give it to you to buy food and the necessities- not books and videogames.”
“What? Books and videogames are necessities! It’s not like you can’t afford it! Besides, you’re not home- what can I do to entertain myself? There’s only so much television you can watch," I muttered.
She rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you hang out with your new friends?”
I sighed and shrugged. “Thanks a lot, loving mother.”
“Don’t pull that card on me.” A horn blared from outside and my mother kissed my cheek, pulling me in for a hug. “That’s the taxi; I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I told her as she walked out to the taxi, getting into the backseat. I sighed, closing the door after she disappeared around the corner. Another day alone and I absolutely hate it.
<<>><<>>
I decided to spend Wednesday’s last period study hall checking out books from the school’s library. I smiled when I saw my mother’s books on the shelf. “'The Espineli Trilogy' by Penelope Arrington,” I muttered as my fingers ran across the spines, she used her maiden name. There were only two of the books, though. My head tilted sideways as I realized that book two was missing.
I walked towards the librarian and smiled at him politely. “Hello. Do you know who has 'The Espineli Trilogy' by Penelope Arrington?”
It felt odd asking for my mother’s book, especially when I have three of the original copies at home. The librarian quickly typed away at the keyboard, eyes flickering from the screen to the keys repeatedly. I’m curious as to who in this school actually reads my mother’s books. It’s weird to think about. “Noah Rivers.”
My mouth parted slightly when I heard his name come from the librarian’s lips. “D-do you know when he checked it out?” Noah reads my mom’s books? I mean, it’s not like they’re bad or anything- they’re quite good, (and I’m not being biased because of the fact that she’s my mother) I’m just surprised that out of all of the books in this large library, he decided to check out my mom’s. And not only that, he’d already completed the first one!
“Actually, not too long ago; in fact, it was just twelve minutes ago," he replied. “I’m pretty sure he’s actually here if you want to discuss when he’ll bring it back.”
I nodded and began walking towards the shelves where I previously was, only to see Noah standing there, grabbing the spine of my mother’s third book. He stared at it before looking up, as if sensing my presence. I knew that I was in trouble. There was barely anyone here and he has a bone to pick with me, or so it seems. Instead of saying something, he looked past me before he turned his gaze back to the book in his hands.
“Do you like that series?” I stupidly asked. Of course he likes it! Why would he be checking it out if he didn’t?
He looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows before he looked back down at the books in his hands. My brain, deciding to say another stupid statement, began to talk again. “That’s one of my favorite books. The writer is brilliant.”
He nodded. He actually nodded. “So you like the books?”
He nodded again, not bothering to look at me. This is progress, right? “Did you read any of her other books?” He nodded again and I felt ecstatic. I mean, maybe he isn’t a jerk. Maybe Marissa is wrong. I looked towards his ears and almost sighed in relief when I saw that they had nothing in them. So he wasn’t head bobbing to music; that would’ve been extremely embarrassing. “What’s your favorite book by her?”
“'The Harrington Murders', but this trilogy might replace it," he responded, his voice calmer than I remembered it. When we were on the phone, he sounded angry. Maybe it was the location. I had the urge to drag him out of the library and try and talk to him, just to see if he’ll punch me in the throat then. But I bet if I touched him, he’d roundhouse kick me into the bookshelf.
“I’ve read that one. In fact, I’ve read all of her books,” I admitted. My mother knew I was an avid reader and often asked me to read her books once they were finished. I’d point out any flaws in the plot and she’d fix them.
“She’s one of my favorite writers.” Even more words! My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. My mother was one of his favorite authors. I could cry tears of joy at this moment.
“D-do you realize who I am?” I asked him nervously. Who knows? He could snap at any moment.
“Yup," he replied, enunciating the p louder than the other two letters. It was cute and innocent, but he's Noah- so nothing he does is innocent and I bet he doesn't want anyone to call him cute, especially not me.
“A-and you aren’t angry at me for what I did?” I asked him.
He laughed dryly. “Nope.” Again, he enunciated the p. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I knew he was getting to something. “Because I know you won’t do it again.”
Although he was right, I decided to test his theory. “How do you know that?”
Grabbing another book off of the shelf, he sighed. “I know something that my sister doesn’t know about you.”
I nodded as I distracted myself by plucking random books off of the shelves to calm my nerves. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”
“I know that you did drink at that party; and you lied to the girls' faces about it. When they thanked you, you grinned as if you didn’t call me only hours ago to tell me to come pick you guys up. I know that you’re irresponsible and you’re not capable to do what you’re supposed to do, physically, emotionally, or mentally. And when they said something about remembering me bring them home, you quickly explained that you were too tired from getting them to the car. I know that my sister will find someone else to bring her friends to those parties because she’s done it before and somehow, they always mess up. You’re the first one to mess up on the first try though. You don’t see those girls around anymore, do you?”
"I’m responsible,” I told him, earning a simple scoff in response. “It would have been irresponsible to try and drive home, risking four people’s lives in the process. It would have been irresponsible to not call you. It would have been irresponsible to let the girls get drunker than they already were because I was scared to call you. I know what responsibility is and I know that I have a lot more on my plate than you assume I do.”
“Yeah, but it is irresponsible to drink when you know you’re not supposed to because three people are depending on you. You were being selfish when you decided to drink whatever it is you drunk and do whatever it is that you did," he replied calmly.
“You don’t know what happened, okay? So stop acting like you do. Stop acting like you’re any better than me because you’re not,” I bit back, anger seeping through me. Too embarrassed to explain what happened, I stood there with clenched fists. That guy was much bigger than me, stronger than me, and obviously not right in the head. Who knows what he was planning to do? I'm sorry that I didn't attempt to swing on him in fear of angering him more. I got away, and the girls got home safely. That's all that matters.
“I know enough to deem you irresponsible and selfish, don’t I?” His voice was monotonous with a hint of mockery.
“You’re the selfish one,” I bit. “You would rather have us dead because of a drunk driving accident than walk to the party and pick us up. How would my parents feel? And the other girl’s parents feel? Never mind your own! How would your father feel? How would your mother-?” he cut me off mid-sentence.
“She isn’t my mother and she will never be my mother. Why don’t you mind your own business? You’re the one who did something wrong; stop trying to switch this around on me," he quickly reminded.
“Then why don’t you tell your sister what I did? Huh?” I angrily snapped.
His voice was eerily tranquil, making me even angrier that he wasn’t as mad about this as I was. “Because I’d rather see you suffer. I’d rather watch you sit and waste away in guilt about it because I know that you’re guilty deep down." e seems to be speaking from experience.
“I’m going to make it up to them with the next party, where I won’t drink,” I challenged, my fists tightening as he stared at my mother’s books in his hands.
Without even bothering to look at me, he walked past me. “Next time, when you decide to drink again, call a cab.”
<<>><<>>
I decided not to tell Marissa about my run in with her brother. It would lead to questioning, something I can’t really deal with at the moment, especially when whatever potential friendship I have with her could go spiraling down the drain. I sighed as I entered my empty house, slamming and locking the door behind me. I slumped onto the couch, quickly flicking the television on. Deciding on a random channel, I took out my homework and began working, allowing the sound of the commercials to fill the house.
The lack of my mother’s presence took a toll on me rather quickly. Strolling throughout the house saddened me so I decided to take a walk. Times like this, I wish I had longtime friends to hang out with rather than being alone all the time. Walking towards the town bookstore, I grinned when I saw the workers unpacking boxes. The new shipment of books must’ve finally come in. I rushed inside, allowing the air conditioning to brush over my bare forearms.
I walked over towards the action book section, inhaling the smell of fresh books. With the credit card in my hand, I thumbed through the horizontal stack of books, allowing myself to pick a few out, reading the backs before wrinkling my nose and putting them back. I quickly snatched the last copy of a book I’d been waiting a while for, placing it under my arm. Moving towards the other side of the store, I grabbed another book that caught my attention. These books should take me a few days to read.
After paying for them, I decided to go to the small diner across the street from the bookstore. It beats cooking and sitting alone in my house to eat. Taking a seat in a lonely booth, I waited for the waitress to walk over and take my order. “Are you waiting on someone?”
I looked at her and shook my head, allowing a small smile to appear on my lips. “Nope, it’s just me.”
The middle-age lady nodded and opened her small booklet, prepared to write down my order. After relaying my short list to her, I looked around, sitting in silence until my phone vibrated in my pocket. I quickly picked it up, bringing it to my ear. “Hello?”
“What’s up?” Marissa asked me. I furrowed my eyebrows, moving the salt and pepper shakers around on the table as I struggled to pinpoint exactly what this conversation would be about. Noah didn’t tell her, right? He couldn’t have! He said it himself that he’d rather watch me suffer.
“Uh, not much, just waiting for my food,” I replied.
“You ordered out?” she asked me.
I laughed. “No, I’m at the diner downtown, across the street from the bookshop.”
“Really? I’m just down the street, why don’t you come over once you’re done?” she asked.
“Where exactly are you?” I asked her, sitting up a little straighter. Maybe I’ll hang out with her. That’ll help to cure my boredom.
“That stupid bridal shop, I have to buy a dress for an upcoming wedding," she told me. “And there are no cool people here.”
A minute later, she shouted something along the lines of, ‘you’re not cool.’ I snorted before sighing. “How long are you going to be there?”
“For another hour or two, they’re searching for dresses my size in the color teal,” she informed me.
I quickly told her I’d be there soon before hanging up and eating the food that the waitress delivered. After scarfing it down and paying with the only bills I had in my pocket, I quickly rushed over to the wedding shop that was down the street. Walking into the building, I was bombarded in a hug by Marissa. Awkwardly returning the embrace, I nearly sighed of relief when the tall yet thin girl let me out of her arms. “You’re a lifesaver.”
I rolled my eyes. “Last time I checked, I’m not a circular candy.” Now it was Marissa’s turn to roll her eyes.
“Are your parents here?” I asked her, looking around the empty shop.
She shook her head. “No, just my brother and I. They’re helping my aunt plan the wedding.”
I couldn’t process anything past ‘brother.’ “You didn’t bother mentioning the fact that your brother was here,” I whispered aggressively. She snorted.
“Why? So you could take more time to do your makeup?” she giggled.
“You and I both know that I’m terrible at doing makeup. But your brother and I aren’t on the best terms, remember?”
“He won’t kill you while I’m around.” She shrugged before pulling me down onto the couch resting against the window. The sun was shining down on the street. Not many people were out and about; most of them were either at work or hanging out with friends. Some might even be at home, the place where I would be if I didn’t answer my phone only moments ago.
“That’s reassuring,” I sarcastically muttered before looking around. “Where is he?”
“Trying on a suit.” she shrugged, motioning towards the changing rooms. “Are you done yet?” Her shouting startled me. I blew out a breath as my heart pounded in my chest. She went from quiet to screaming in less than ten seconds.
A groan erupted from the other side of the changing room. “I look stupid.”
Instead of saying something along the lines of ‘I’m sure you don’t', she was a bit ruder. “Yeah, you probably do! Now come out here and make me laugh.”
The door handle turned and Noah stepped out, his black and grey suit crisp and clean. He looked very handsome; the tie around his neck matched his eyes, although they were blue. He sighed as he stared at his sister, completely ignoring my presence, but I’m used to it. “How do I look?”
As if catching onto his shunning towards me, Marissa turned towards me. “What do you think, Kenna?”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish as I looked between the two of them. “I didn’t ask for her opinion.” Although what he said was rude, I couldn’t help but be slightly grateful that I was no longer in the spotlight. He’d just hate me even more if I said that he didn’t look good and he’d still hate me if I said that he looked nice. But then again, Marissa would get a kick out of that, don’t you think?
Marissa frowned. “That’s rude. I asked for her opinion. And I’m still waiting for it. Kenna?”
I shrugged sheepishly, turning to glance out of the window to avoid eye contact. “That isn’t an opinion, Kenna.”
“Who cares what she thinks?” Noah snapped.
“I do!” Marissa narrowed her eyes at her brother.
“I’m buying it. I don’t care what either of you think," he snapped, walking back into the changing room.
It was silent between us before she sighed. “I’m sorry, he’s a jerk.”
“Don’t I know?” I muttered absentmindedly.
A couple of minutes later, he walked out with the sharp suit on a hanger. He strolled over towards the counter, placing the outfit on a metal rack beside it before speaking to the lady standing there. Another lady rushed from a crowd of dresses with an armful of similarly colored dresses. “Ms. Rivers.”
Marissa stood up and smiled at the lady, taking the load of dresses and walking to a dressing room. Before Noah had the chance to walk out, she called to him. “Don’t go anywhere, Noah! Sit down.”
He turned to look at her. “Why?”
“Because I want your opinion.” She frowned as he reached towards the door. He sighed, causing her to grin. “Now sit down next to Kenna.”
He walked over towards the other couch, plopping down on the cushion farthest away from me. “Or don’t. Just stay there," she muttered before closing the door to the changing room.
Only minutes later, she exited the room, dancing and laughing towards us, twirling in the teal dress. “What about this one?”
I smiled. “It’s cute.”
“I hate it.” Marissa and I looked towards Noah as he lazily glanced around the store.
“Okay,” Marissa drawled before walking back into the changing room. We sat in silence, anticipating Marissa’s presence to distinguish the awkward aura for a few seconds, or at least I did.
When she exited the dressing room, the teal puffy dress automatically found its way onto my short list of dislikes. “This one?”
“I’m not a big fan,” I replied.
Noah shrugged. “I think it’s nice.”
Marissa nodded before walking towards the changing room. It went like this for a while; whatever I liked- Noah disliked, and the other way around Marissa grew frustrated after five dresses. “Okay, let’s change this up. Noah, say your opinion first- Kenna, say yours after.”
I nodded and when she came out of the changing room with the sixth dress on, Noah was quick to give his opinion. “I hate it.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t really like it.”
She nodded, a small smile coming onto her face. “This is progress.”
On the seventh dress, Noah sighed. “It’s nice.”
I nodded. “I like it.”
Doing a small cheer, she grinned. “Yes! You two finally agree. I was hoping it’d be on this dress; it’s my personal favorite.”
She entered the changing room one last time before exiting moments later, changed into her normal outfit. The dresses we denied were in one hand and the one we both agreed on was in her other. Placing it on the rack beside Noah’s suit, she handed the denied dresses to the girl who got them for her, thanking her quietly.
I was a bit sad when it was time to go. Noah quickly rushed his sister to hurry up because he wanted to watch a UFC fight he recorded. She quickly hugged me before running over towards his car, getting into the passenger’s seat. They drove off while I walked home, the urge to read my new books fading with each step I took.