Chapter 20
The next day, I was being driven home by Marissa, who was freaking out about her upcoming party. When we left the house, Dana and Chloe were leaving. Floyd was out cold on the recliner, where I left him, and Noah was still asleep even though it was noon. Marissa made a comment about how alcohol works better than his insomnia medicine. I hope she doesn’t say something like that in front of Noah. The last thing he needs is to feel as if the only way he can sleep is by drinking.
“Did you get your dress yet?” I slowly tuned back into the conversation to see Marissa staring at me.
“No,” I muttered, knowing she’d get upset.
“Are you serious?” she inquired.
“Well, I haven’t exactly had time,” I muttered. “I’ll get it Monday, or something,” I told her.
“You better! And remember, the color scheme…” she trailed off.
I was resting my head on the window with my eyes closed, muting out her voice. I swear she’s told me this information ninety times, and it’s printed on the invitation she forced me to take. I turned away from the window after a few moments of thinking and looked at her, cutting her off midsentence. “Have you ever hugged Noah?”
“What?” she asked as she turned to me. I repeated myself and she sat there in thought. “Have I ever hugged Noah?”
“Yeah,” I replied with a nod.
“Once or twice,” she shrugged. “Why?”
“Only once? Or twice?” I asked her. “What kind of sister are you?”
“Not a good one,” she snorted. “But yeah, when we first met, I hugged him and told him that I was sorry for his loss but he went all rigid and I awkwardly stepped back. It was an awkward time. Why do you ask?”
Loss? As in death? Was it his mother? It has to have been his mother! She was his main caretaker. Her death must be the reason why he came to live with Lukas and Ethel. I stared at Marissa in pure shock. I mean, I don’t know what I expected. Maybe his mother ran off? Abandoned him? I just hoped that she wasn't dead- anything but dead. Marissa glanced at me once, and then again, but the second time, she had a horrible look on her face. “Oh my God!” she shouted.
I was too busy thinking about the information I just received to regard her. I can tell that she was freaking out about letting more information slip. “Noah lost his mother?” I asked in a whisper.
Marissa looked at me. “Yeah, but—.”
“Oh my God,” I groaned, rubbing my eyes. It all made sense! The looks of pity that he was talking about last night, the people leaving him! He was talking about people treating him differently after they found out that he lost his mother!
“Can you relate? I mean, you’ve lost your dad,” she trailed off and I shook my head.
“No, I mean, I can relate at the loss of a parent, but it’s different. I had both of my parents there for me growing up. Noah, he only had one,” I responded with a frown. “When I lost my father, my mother was there. She experienced the loss along with me and we grew together; Noah, he was alone, wasn’t he?”
Marissa slowly nodded as she looked out of the window, driving along the roads. I looked at Marissa with wide eyes. “How did she die?”
“I-I can’t tell you that,” she shook her head and I stared at her before leaning back in my seat, my thoughts racing.
<<>><<>>
On Monday morning, I woke up late. As in 8:15 late according to my cell phone. I gasped and looked towards my alarm clock only to see that it wasn’t there. Maybe that’s why it didn’t wake you up. I got out of bed, looking around. I grabbed my clothes and ran towards the bathroom. I took a short shower, thinking that I’m already late, why not be clean when I get there. I quickly got dressed, grabbing my bag.
I reached the living room and realized that I won’t be able to get to school without waking my mother. She’ll insist on having a cup of coffee to wake her up. I noticed my keys sitting on the living room table, along with my alarm clock. I gaped at it with annoyance before unplugging the device and grabbing my keys. My aunt made me oversleep; she’s going to oversleep for whatever is that is more important than me getting to school on time.
I got into my car and drove to school. I arrived in time for American Literature with Ms. Walters. I rushed into class three minutes late. The teacher looked at me as if I was insane. I was panting heavily; my hands went to my knees. The small class of fifteen or so students looked at me the same way that Ms. Walters did. Noah was one of them. “Please take a seat, Ms. West.”
I nodded as I walked towards the front row, plopping down in the seat next to Noah. Usually, I would sit in the second row, but I can’t breathe and my legs feel like they’re going to break. I ran into school, signed in as tardy, and then ran up three flights of stairs and down a hallway in order to get here. My lungs are on fire.
After shooting me an annoyed glance, Noah went back to reading his book only to stop after he skimmed two pages. “Can you stop breathing so heavily?” he asked me.
“Gee, thanks. I only ran into school and up three flights of stairs,” I told him.
“I run five miles a day; I’m pretty sure that isn’t much,” he told me. In twenty minutes? He probably runs two and a half in the beginning and two and a half in the end. That's a lot, even for Noah.
“To you! I don’t run!” I explained.
“Whatever,” he muttered.
“What’s got you in such a bad mood?” I asked him as I dug around in my bag, searching for my notebook.
His neck snapped in my direction and he glared at me. “Are you serious?”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “What?”
“Move,” he demanded.
“What?” I asked. “What did I do wrong?” I whispered.
“Move, Kennedy,” he told me. When he saw me not making a move to get up and go, he narrowed his eyes. “I will embarrass you if you don’t,” he told me.
“No, what are you—?” I began but he rudely cut me off.
“No, Kennedy, I do not want to kiss you. Leave me alone,” he said in a loud voice. Everyone’s eyes were on us and I felt my face burn in embarrassment as I gaped at him.
“You didn’t,” I muttered.
He glared at me. “I did and I’ll do it again if you don’t move.”
Grabbing my bag, I got up and walked to the desk over one and he shook his head. I let out a huff of breath as I moved three desks away from him but that obviously wasn’t good enough seeing as how he shook his head yet again. Finally, I reached the opposite side of the room and he nodded so I sat down, not daring to move closer to him in fear of him shouting another embarrassing lie across the room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmured as I plopped into my seat.
<<>><<>>
During lunch, I got a phone call from my mother and I quickly answered it as I walked towards the cafeteria. Not only was my brain fried from Algebra 2, I was still annoyed at what Noah had the nerve to do in American Literature. “Hello?” I answered.
“What did you do?” my mother hissed.
Confusion settled over me like a thick fog and I stopped walking, only to be bumped into by a guy who didn’t bother to apologize, even though it was my fault. I went into a small cubby in the wall that led to an empty classroom. “What did I do?”
“Did you take your car and unplug your aunt’s alarm clock?” my mother hissed.
“She took it out of my room! I woke up at 8:15 and I didn’t bother waking you up!” I responded. “What was I supposed to do? I have an important meeting with my art teacher after school today!”
“You’re lucky your aunt woke up when she did. She only had ten minutes to get ready before she would’ve been late. She had to go view a house,” my mother chided. I knew that she was shaking her head and I refrained from scoffing.
“I’m sorry but it’s not my fault that she took my alarm clock. I didn’t know it was her decision to choose what’s more important- a house viewing or school,” I sassily stated.
“Watch your tone,” my mother demanded and I immediately shut my mouth. “While she’s staying here, you will respect her and treat her as a guest. That means you’ll let her use what she needs. You have an alarm on your phone, don’t you?”
“Yeah, it would’ve been nice to know that she was going to steal and reset my alarm while I was asleep,” I muttered.
“Hey! What did I just say?” she snapped.
“Sorry, I just want my car back,” I muttered.
“She’s leaving on Wednesday, okay?” my mother sighed. “Just hold on until then.”
“Okay,” I murmured, feeling twenty times worse than I did only five minutes ago.
Once we hung up, I walked towards the cafeteria to see Marissa sitting at the table we share. I walked into the lunch line and grabbed a meal before strolling towards Marissa. I sat opposite to her and let out a sigh. “What’s wrong?”
“I overslept,” I muttered, “And I got in trouble by my mom for taking my car and unplugging my alarm clock that my aunt casually borrowed last night. And to top it all off, your brother decided it’d be great to embarrass me in the middle of American Literature for reasons unknown.”
“Wait, what happened with my brother?” she asked. Of course that’s the only thing she’d take from my rant.
“I was late to class. I sat down next to him. He glared at me and told me to quiet my breathing. I said something funny and sarcastic, like usual. He got all angry and I’m guessing his panties were twisted because when I asked him what was wrong, he acted like I knew what I did wrong. Obviously, if I asked what I did wrong, then I don’t know,” I continued to rant, “And then he practically yelled ‘No, Kennedy, I don’t want to kiss you’ and everyone heard him.”
Marissa looked at me before she nearly fell off of her chair because of her laughter. I sighed and continued eating, rolling my eyes tiredly. “You’re like a guy, I swear.”
“What?” I asked.
“You, you’re like a guy. Guys do that whole ‘I don’t know what I did wrong’ thing,” she shook her head. “Maybe you should just talk to him.”
“So he can embarrass me in front of people again? No thanks,” I muttered.
“Come on, it won’t be that bad,” she told me. I simply shook my head in response.
“No, he’ll probably shout at me to get away from him and that he doesn’t want to kiss me,” I noted. Obviously, he needs space, so that’s what I’ll give him.
“Yeah, probably, but at least it’d be funny to watch,” she laughed.
<<>><<>>
I had a study hall after lunch and I decided to spend it in the library. That’s where I study best- in silence. I entered the library and cringed when I saw Noah sitting at a table with a book in his hands. I awkwardly walked over and sat down, taking a seat at a table not too far from him but far enough so he wouldn’t be able to jump over it and attack me. I kept glancing at him over my text book, not bothering to study. I can study when I get home. I can’t help but wonder what I did wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong on Saturday, as far as I know.
Suddenly frustrated, Noah dropped his book on the table and looked up at me. “Can you stop staring at me?”
Not bothering to be embarrassed, I groaned. “What did I do wrong?”
He stared at me for a minute, chewing on his bottom lip. “You really don’t know?”
“Would I be asking if I knew?” I told him. “So are you going to tell me?” I muttered.
“No,” he responded. “When you figure it out, then you can talk to me.” He lifted the book and his eyes turned back to the pages. I struggled to think of what I could’ve done to anger him. The list is extremely long but I’m only going to think of recent events.
“Is it about how you hugged me?” I asked him. He gripped his book tighter as he shook his head. “What is it then? About what you said?”
When I thought it was physically impossible, his grip on the book tightened even more and his nails were digging into the book’s cover. “That’s it, isn’t it? I stopped you from saying anything personal, Noah. You were drunk and I know that. I stopped you from saying something you wouldn’t have said if you were sober.”
He was silent and I sighed. “That’s why I stopped you from saying anything. This would happen. You said that I would ignore you for a week or maybe more if I knew what you were about to tell me. Well, I don’t know and it seems to be that you’re the one ignoring me.”
“I don’t think we should be friends anymore,” he told me bluntly.
I stared at him, my lips parted as I blinked. “What?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowed.
“I said, I don’t think we should be friends anymore,” he repeated.
“Why not?” I inquired, my eyes searching his face as he stared at the book in his hands.
“I just don’t think we should be friends,” he retorted.
“Why not?” I hissed, more adamant to get an answer from him.
“Because I don’t want to be your friend,” he told me through clenched teeth.
“W—?” he cut me off before I could even finish my sentence
“Leave me alone,” he hissed. I took a deep breath as I stared at him, my eyes skimming his face for any sort of emotion, something that can clue me in on how he’s feeling. I stood up and took a few steps backwards before turning on my heels and walking towards the door, my heart clenching painfully in my chest.
<<>><<>>
“For this project, we’ll be making a mural,” Mr. Komodo informed us.
“A mural?” one boy asked, “What’s that?”
A few people scoffed but I just sat there, my chest tight and tears threatening to spill over. What did I do wrong? I stopped Noah from saying anything that he’d regret. I stopped him to avoid something like this.
“A mural is a wall painting. We’ll be painting a portrait on the blank wall in the cafeteria,” Mr. Komodo explained. “It’ll be a month long project and it takes place after school. I’ll be providing all of the materials. All you will need is motivation, inspiration, and your skills.”
He continued to tell us what we would be doing for this mural. “What is the mural going to be on?” a girl asked.
“I was thinking we can make it a lion,” Mr. Komodo explained, “Our school’s mascot, it represents strength.”
Everyone nodded so I went along with it. “Okay, guys. The materials should get here on Wednesday. Are any of you good at sketching?”
A few people raised their hands. “Can you guys draw sketches of lions? On Friday, as a group, we can choose which one we want to paint.”
The students nodded and Mr. Komodo grinned, telling us that we can leave. I stood up and exited the room. Digging in my pocket for my phone, I felt a lump. I took it out to find that it was money. I groaned loudly, remembering that I have to buy my dress for Marissa’s party today. The only day that I just want to go home and cry, I have things to do. What are the odds?
I can’t go and get it any other day, mainly because my mother’s taking my car keys from me when I get home to give them back to my aunt. She’s not leaving until Wednesday and I doubt one of them would willingly bring me dress shopping. By Thursday, the dresses are probably going to be all sold out, if they aren’t already. I know that most of the girls at our school (that are invited) already went shopping. At least two hundred girls are going to be at Marissa’s party- she invited most of the juniors, practically all of the seniors, and the majority of her female family members. (I have no idea how they’re going to afford hosting a party with more than 400 people, but I have a feeling that this huge party was her mother’s idea.) Anyway, I can’t go shopping on Friday; I have to go to that stupid mural meeting.
I got into my car and began driving to the mall. I searched each store that sells dresses, looking for a red dress because who can go wrong with red? After searching for what seemed to be hours, I finally found a red high-low dress that actually had my size. The only ones on the racks were size zeroes and sizes threes. I’m nowhere near that tiny. After trying on the dress and sending a picture to Marissa, who said that I should definitely buy it, I brought it to the front of the store to purchase it.
After buying the dress, Marissa texted me to buy shoes that I can dance in. I didn’t plan on buying shoes but since I’m here, I might as well buy them. I stepped into a shoe store and looked around, my eyes hopping from stilettos to flats to wedges and all things in between. Since Marissa isn’t here to convince me to buy heels, I grabbed a pair of black flats. After I bought them, I quickly rushed to my car and stuffed the bags in the backseat.
I stared at the steering wheel, my heart clenching painfully. Wait until you get home to cry. I started the car and began driving home, my mind racing. I can’t help but be a bit angry. I didn’t do anything wrong! There is no reason that he should be angry at me! Why is it that every time something good happens, it always turns to crap immediately after?
As if matching my mood, rain slowly drizzled on the road and I sighed tiredly. At least I got shopping out of the way; I now have two days to do whatever it is that sad, heartbroken girls do. At least Dakota will be there to comfort me.