AN- as of august 2021, I've edited this chapter quite a bit- the only main detail that's changed is noah is now eighteen for the whole book, so apologies to first time readers for the inconsistencies! i'm gonna change it as I go along <3
Noah, 4 weeks later
I woke up.
Then, I immediately wished I hadn't.
The last time I was alive, it was still spring. The world was pink and white and everything was beginning. But apparently, things change when you go into a coma. As you sleep, you forget that time doesn't stop for anyone else. Just you. And then you wake up, and the clock is still ticking, and you're suddenly eighteen and your Mom is dead and your Dad needs a machine to breathe.
I spent four weeks in a coma. The old me would've thought that was terrifying, but apparently trauma changes how you think about things, because someone could've punched me in the face and I probably would've moved on pretty quickly. The new me also wasn't too bothered about missing my birthday and my high school graduation. Lee, my best friend, said it was probably a good thing I didn't have to watch kids who couldn't care less about me sob hysterically when they found out what I'd been through. By the sounds of it, I thoroughly agreed with him.
I decided to take the fear and horror of what had happened to me a month ago and put it in a jar, stored deep within the confines of my mind. My nurse called it 'the art of healing' when I guilt-tripped her into giving me more morphine. Y'know, learning to let go and all that Eat, Pray, Love bullshit. I called it the art of pretending to be okay. The art of being Noah Quinn. So, in conclusion, apart from living in a hospital gown that completely exposed my ass and listening to my ward roommate blast Fix You every day for my week's recovery until I wanted to violently murder Chris Martin, things were pretty normal. Well. Except for the fact that I almost died.
It was summer. The world was yellow and blue. I was leaving the hospital behind, along with the man who raised me. He wasn't dead, but I still couldn't look at him, not with all those tubes coming out of his body. An undead robot that I called Dad.
When the doctors had pulled my own tube from my throat, they told me that our car had crashed into a lake, as my Dad swerved to avoid a drunk driver on a tight bend. There were lots of tight, cliffside roads in Napa Valley, so driving headfirst into a concrete wall of water was an easy mistake to make; a simple, stupid accident. It could have been anyone. It should have been anyone.
But I knew one thing the doctors didn't. We'd been arguing that night about something as irrelevant as the radio station, something that covered up our true, unspoken battle with meaningless words and wasted time. There was a language barrier between my Dad and me. My older sister couldn't understand, and I couldn't forgive; but I guess that's what families are made of, aren't they? Language barriers and misunderstandings and whatever the opposite of forgiveness is.
"He looks better. Don't you think?" Katherine had asked me a couple of days after I woke up.
I sifted the golden brown strands of her long, straight hair through my weak fingers, so different to my own dark waves. Her eyes were the color chocolate turns when it melts. Mine were the color of water when it goes on forever.
"Better than yesterday, or better 'cause the last time you spoke to him he was drunk?"
Kath's eyes narrowed at my harsh tone. "Don't, Noah. He's been sober ever since I left for college. We can't blame him for how he tried to cope with... with what happened. You were just a kid then. You couldn't have understood." I scoffed, and she sighed. "I'm sorry. Just, please. Visit him for me. We need all the family we can get."
I gritted my teeth, forcing a smile. "I know, Kat. I'm sorry too."
We held each other until she told me she had to go back to college. When she walked away, I felt the panic creeping back. A dark part of me imagined her floating just beyond my fingertips, going where I could never reach her.
A week passed, and it was time to move in with my best friend. I was actually glad that I didn't have to go back to my childhood bedroom and see everything untouched, like nothing had changed. I felt so much older than I was a month ago. At least Lee was a happy place, with his light brown curls and rarely faltering grin. Plus, it didn't hurt that he was like, rich rich.
Bethany Henderson and Pacey Morris were helping me move my belongings to the Jackson's family car, despite the fact that all of those belongings fit inside a small box that they carried between them like it was the Holy Grail. Then, there was the additional fact that we weren't friends. At all. They were like Lee and I, who were on the bottom of the social food chain; complete loners. From what I'd seen of her at school, Beth preferred books and libraries to people. Pacey was an extroverted class clown, (or Pace, as he insisted he be referred to as, especially in front of our 40- something year old math teacher, Miss Robins, usually after asking her to dinner) but he didn't exactly have a real friendship group. Granted, it was probably why they were assigned to my pitiful case.
"No offence guys, but why are you here?"
Beth gave me an awkward smile as she tried to yank the box from her idiotic companion. "I know we don't talk, but we figured you could use some moral support."
"Also," Pace added, obliviously scratching the shaved hair below his locs. "Miss Robins told us to."
Bethany huffed angrily. "You're such a degenerate, Pace."
He glared back. "If I knew what that was, I would say something witty."
~~~
As the Jacksons drove me to my new house, I tried to process the last few weeks. Tried being the key word, because most of the time, I was just numb. Pretending my life wasn't falling apart was what I did best. But even though I was getting better every day, I still woke up crying sometimes. There'd been moments when Lee made me laugh where I forgot that my parents were even gone, that I wasn't going home until my dad woke up, and that for the rest of my life, something vital would be missing. Still, nobody said a word, and the weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air.
Lee's father shifted his hands on the steering wheel awkwardly. Monica, his wife, turned up the radio like I was some helpless thing, built to break at any moment. A soft song was playing, but I was barely listening. The last time I'd been in a car, I was a version of myself that I'd never be again.
"Hey, sleeping beauty. We're here." Lee aggressively shook my shoulder as the family Porsche approached the gated driveway. The beautiful Californian mansion backed onto a vineyard, basking in sun. The entrance was crawling with ivy, and somewhere across the estate, I could hear horses. It was beautiful, and it was a home; both of which I could never be a part of.
I listened to Lee ramble excitedly about everything we were going to do this summer as we dumped my bags inside. Looking around the familiar interior, I was struck with a pang of homesickness. There was nowhere I would rather be in the world, and yet I was reminded that sometimes, we can be homesick for people too.
I missed the home I should've had; but as Monica smiled down at me, this woman I had come to love as a surrogate mother, my fears melted slightly.
You still have people left, Noah. Don't push them away.
"Dude," said my best friend, dragging me away from my thoughts. "We're gonna be like, roommates. And we can stay inside all day, and watch movies, and eat snacks... Why didn't you move in years ago?"
"Well, you only survive a near-fatal accident once," I replied with a crooked smile.
Just as we moved towards the stairs, Lee's whole body went rigid beside me, his eyes landing on something in the foyer.
"Mom, please tell me those aren't bags."
Monica frowned at him, looking behind her. "Uh, those... aren't... bags?"
Lee rolled his eyes, but his terror was barely concealed. "I meant, please tell me that those aren't my brothers' bags."
His parents both stared at him.
Oh God. Oh fuck.
Lee and I froze like we'd just been paid a visit from the ghost of Christmas past. A tall figure rounded the hall corner, and I met the dark eyes of Jace Jackson.
Double oh God, oh fuck.
"Quinn."
Wait. He's talking to me. Why is he talking to me?
His stare didn't leave mine, burning through me with an intensity that could only mean pure hatred. His lips were torn between scowling and expressing his utter boredom with my existence, but his unimpressed expression gave nothing away. There was certainly no humour hidden in the depth of his hard gaze. Trying not to flinch, I swapped my very slightly terrified expression to as ferocious a glare I could muster.
"Jackson."
Please don't think I'm a pussy, please don't think I'm a pussy...
To my relief, he smirked slightly, almost surprised that I had dared to return the cold greeting. I could feel my heart reverberating from the walls of my chest, the eyes of Lee's entire family staring at the confrontation in tense silence. To my relief, Jace finally looked away and moved his attention to my best friend, making sure I felt forgotten. I almost wanted to laugh. I almost told him right there that he couldn't make me feel any more worthless than I already did.
"Hey, asshole."
"Hi, Lucifer," Lee said with mock affection. His smile dropped immediately, and he tugged my arm forward so that we could escape upstairs. "Great. Glad that's out of the way. We're leaving now."
Monica shook her head despairingly and called out after us. "Boys, could you at least try to get along?"
Lee groaned loudly, but Jace was already walking away, clearly unable to care less. I paused for a moment, and then turned to watch him go. I watched the muscles in his back swim under the material of his shirt. It wasn't like years had passed since we'd seen each other last, but he seemed... different. Older. There were lines and ridges in the shape of his body I'd never noticed before. Or, maybe, I just hadn't been looking. But before I could forget all about the way he looked and why I even cared, he turned to meet my eyes. The breath caught in my throat, a fish drawn to the bait, as our gazes bled into one another. Something unreadable crossed his face- a flash of light in a storm- and there wasn't a word in the world for what it meant.
Look away.
For some reason, I couldn't.
"Not a chance." Lee bellowed, breaking me out of my trance and forcing me to shift my attention. He ran up the stairs, and I followed, suddenly uncomfortable in my skin. "Thanks a lot, oh loving parents, for making my life hell!" Lee yelled behind him. I didn't need to look back to know that Jace was gone.
As soon as we reached the safety of his large bedroom, we just stared at each other. "And I thought my life was bad enough already." I said, my voice devoid of any emotion.
Jace Jackson.
AKA, the worst person you could ever meet.
Since the first time I met him, he'd hated me. I was ten and visiting Lee's house for the first time. Jace was a year older, and already towering over me. Even at that age, the pre-pubescent boy was terrifying. After I bumped into him too hard in the front hallway, he made it his mission to destroy any happiness I could feel. Forever.
The guy was certifiably evil. The best thing about him was that he was never at home, meaning I could usually go to my best friend's house without fearing for my life. Honestly, he probably spent all of his time having sex with random girls and then immediately ignoring them, or, you know, just being a mentally unhinged lunatic. His pranks and teasing were relentless. Honestly, Lee deserved an award for still being alive.
I really didn't get why he was so popular. He wasn't even that attractive; unless you're into the whole conventionally beautiful and sculpted by the Greek Gods kind of thing. But personally, I couldn't understand what the hell straight girls saw in him.
Are They Delusional, Or Do Women Just Like Assholes? - The book, by self-taught psychologist and #1 Jace Jackson hater, Noah Quinn.
In other words, Lee and I were just overcome with joy that his brother was back from his gap year at the exact same time I happened to be staying with the Jackson's. It wasn't like the gates of Hell had just opened up beneath us, or anything.
"Look, we'll just avoid him. Not too hard, right?"
I scoffed. "Jace is literally Satan incarnate. He's not limited to physical boundaries. He's probably in the walls right now. Watching. Waiting."
Lee groaned and flopped down dramatically onto his bed. "I know. At least you haven't had to live with him your whole life."
"Lee, he once stuck a tampon so far up my nose that I had to go to the ER to get it removed. The entire school called me tampon boy for a whole year." I deadpanned.
My best friend gave me his signature, goofy grin. "Dude, they never stopped calling you that."
"Thanks for the reminder! I almost forgot." I drawled with a glare. "Oh, and plus, now he's my practically my roommate! So, before we proceed, I want to tell you my funeral plans-"
"Noah, your death is the least of our worries."
"Aw. I'm blushing."
"What I meant, is that I was looking forward to spending all summer watching Star Wars and Marvel movies in the cinema room, but now it's ruined. Our loser plans are ruined, Noah."
Sprawled together, we stared at the ceiling in pure, teen, anguish.
"Out of everything I've been through, this by far is the worst thing. I mean, if I'd known I'd have to see Jace again, I would have stayed in the coma." I said, over Lee's quiet laughter. It was nice, being with him again; like having a pocket of the world where nothing could hurt me, and I could forget about everything that already had.
"Noah?"
"Yeah?"
"If I can't go on any longer, promise you'll put me out of my misery."
"This isn't the zombie apocalypse, Lee."
"We're talking about Jace, here. It's worse."
He wasn't wrong. Maybe, after everything, I could use a distraction. And if anything was going to distract me from the tangled mess of my life, it was hating Jace Jackson.
~~~
I'd spent all day watching mindless Netflix with Lee, trying to push down the dread that always came with seeing his brother. And when I wasn't thinking about Him, I was slipping into that cloudy, dreamlike state where minutes passed by without my notice. Lee would shake me and I'd startle, jumpy for a reason that I didn't understand. Then he'd get that look on his face. The one people used to give me the last time something bad happened.
But dinnertime was unavoidable. So when Darren called up that food was ready, Lee and I exchanged a grave nod and headed into the battlefield.
"This looks great, Monica." I beamed, looking at the bowls of various Italian dishes she was bringing out to the dining room. Trying not to appear like a walking corpse was now my 9-5 profession.
"Only the best for my favourite son." She said sweetly, setting down some spaghetti.
Lee gaped at her. "He's not even related to us."
She gave him a loving kiss on the forehead. "Exactly."
He approached his father with a scowl, who walked in with cutlery. "Hey, Dad? Please tell me a certain someone isn't joining us tonight."
"Who, your brother?"
Lee shrugged. "I prefer not to give it names, but I guess you could call it that."
Darren gave him a look, and shook his head despairingly. "It's family night. So yes, Jace will be eating with us. You could at least pretend to like him."
Lee's eyes turned pleading. "You can just tell us if he's adopted. I'll completely understand."
"I'm actively choosing to ignore you right now, sweetheart," said Monica.
At that moment, Jace arrived. He was distracted by something on his phone, his airpods in as he sauntered to the table and sat down opposite me. I tried to focus on the view of the vineyard at night through the glass doors behind him, instead of looking at the way strands of his stupid brown hair fell in front of his stupid brown eyes. God, he was infuriating.
"Music off," Darren commanded, gesturing to his own ears as he stared at his son.
Jace's eyes snapped up, feigning innocence. "What? Didn't quite catch that."
That's when, in a single act of bravery, Lee flicked a piece of his pasta onto his brother's face.
"What the fuck?"
"Language," Monica sighed.
Jace scowled and pulled Lee into a headlock from across the table, nearly knocking over the salad.
"Boys." Darren commanded, and they hesitantly pulled apart. "Jace, apologize."
As Jace glared, Lee stuck out his tongue. "Yeah, apologize, Jacob."
"Don't call me that, shithead," he growled.
"Dipshit."
"Dick bag."
"Ball sucke-"
"Asshole."
"Fuck head!"
Monica shouted, surprising everyone. "Language, for fucks sake."
After a moment of silence where Darren and I tried to pretend we were anywhere else, Jace muttered to his brother. "Fuck head isn't even a word."
"Will fuckboy do?" Lee returned quietly, smiling sweetly.
Jace scoffed. "Rather a fuckboy than a virgin. Or have you and Quinn finally settled down together?"
I choked. It was almost theatrical.
Monica exhaled in defeat. "I give up."
~~~
After dinner, Lee and I watched Spiderman, quoted it word for word and realized how sad we genuinely were. It got my mind off things, at least. Even weeks after the accident, my thoughts fled to the crushing weight of water and parents who weren't there anymore. But there was something strange lingering beneath all of it, too. Something- or someone that I hadn't properly thought about for a while.
Despite my best efforts, that last comment he made had been replaying in my head for over an hour. I mean, he didn't actually think I was gay. Right? I'd never exactly wanted a girlfriend, but it's not like I thought about boys either. Except Jace. And that was because he sucked.
I'm straight. I'm 100%, completely and undoubtedly straight.
Even when he wasn't there, Jace wouldn't leave me alone, thoughts of his irritatingly beautiful face taunting me. And for some bizarre reason, I cared what he thought of me.
He doesn't think anything of you. Because Jace doesn't think about you at all.
For some reason, that didn't make me feel any better.
"Stop thinking about sex right next to me. It's starting to gross me out."
I gaped at Lee, astonished. "I am not."
"Are too. Why else would you be staring off into space like that?"
"Maybe 'cause I was thinking about the movie, you fucking creep...?"
"Wait... you're thinking about having sex with Spiderman? Dude, when you said you loved Tobey Maguire, I didn't think you meant it, like, literally." I shoved him, hard, and he rolled his eyes. "Chill, I know you're not into dudes. I'll break the news to Tobey for you."
He turned back to the screen and laughed. I tried to laugh too.
~~~
Jace
After dinner, I stormed out to my car. Funny, how my house had so much space, and yet there was nowhere I felt more trapped.
I wasn't sure why I was so angry, why I was chain smoking until the windows fogged up, my knuckles going white as I gripped the motionless steering wheel. And the question that plagued me the most out of it all was why he was on my mind.
Him.
I breathed in, breathed out, but the choking feeling didn't go away. Just the thought of him was infuriating. He infuriated me.
My parents hadn't told me the full story of what happened to him, only that he was in an accident. But I hadn't known he was staying here.
A whole year. That was how long it had been since I last saw Noah Quinn. Messing with him was one of my favourite things to do when we were younger. He used to pay attention to me, drink in the sight of me, be aware of my every movement; of course, only in dread. I never actually hurt him, but we were just kids who didn't know how to be friends. He'd always gotten under my skin. He practically lived there.
But then I saw him today, and he was different.
It seemed that within three hundred and sixty something days, he'd grown taller. Still much smaller than me, like he always had been; but somehow, he didn't feel as small anymore.
He had looked me in the eyes.
Really looked at me, with that deep azure gaze. He felt like the colour blue, his sad stormy eyes always left swimming in my mind hours after I'd looked into them. But he didn't even flinch. I had expected him to, but instead, he just looked back at me.
'Jackson' he had said, in a voice a little more mature than I remembered. I had felt something go through me when he'd said that.
I hated him for it.
And I wanted to know why.
~~~
okay, there you have chapter 1. what do you think? i know it's slightly long and quite a slow burn because we don't really see much of jace, but girlies, we need the sexual tension to build. they aren't gonna get down and dirty STRAIGHT away. ik it starts off very wattpad'y but i promise u the quality is gonna increase, i'm just making it as light as i can before we deal with the trauma 😀 and you might be wondering why noah isn't really grieving even though his dads in a coma and his mom is dead- all will be explained later mwhahahahaha
also, bit random, but i kinda imagine mrs jackson as the mom from love simon, played by jennifer garner. darren is just a stereotypical rich white dilf, maybe mark sloan from greys anatomy/the creepy dad from euphoria
thank you for reading my loves! pls stick with me on this one i swear i wont disappoint... :3
-arabella <3