Page 62 of Remember Us This Way

Zoey James is the epitome of goodness, and I’m her exact opposite. I’m cruel and unforgiving, and when pushed enough, there’s no line I won’t cross. But what the hell does that say about me? How long before I aim that cruelty toward Zoey? How long until I’m sending her away and history repeats itself?

If I lose Zoey like I lost Linc . . . fuck. I won’t just be drowning in grief, I won’t just be struggling to breathe, I won’t fucking survive it. She’s my whole world, but this darkness that clouds over me . . . I can’t let it destroy her too.

“Noah?” I hear that sweet, angelic voice say, and as my head snaps up, I see Zoey standing at the top of the church’s grand entrance, that chestnut hair sweeping back over her shoulder in the breeze. Her eyes are glued to mine, trying to read me just like she’s always been able to, but I shut her out, needing to sever that connection between us.

I’m a killer. Linc’s blood is on my hands, and I refuse to stain them with Zoey’s too. I won’t do it to her. I can’t allow her to be dragged down by me. She won’t survive it. She’ll crumble under the pressure, and in her need to stand by my side, she’ll willingly allow me to destroy her.

I won’t do it.

I can’t.

I have to distance myself from her. It’s her only hope, her only chance to survive me.

“Noah?” she questions again, inching toward me as other funeral guests pour out of the church around her, but she doesn’t dare take her eyes off mine, and I see the moment she reads it in my eyes.

Zoey sucks in a slight breath, her brows furrowing as a deep pain flashes in her bright green eyes, and when she tries to inch toward me for answers, I shake my head, refusing to let her get any closer. “Don’t,” I say, my voice catching on the lump in my throat.

She clenches her jaw as my mother appears on the step beside her, both of them staring at me. “Noah, honey?” my mom says slowly as if recognizing that this person standing before her is no longer the son she once knew. “It’s going to be okay.”

She inches toward me, just as Zoey had, but I shake my head, knowing that this life I once had, the easy, happy world I thrived in is no longer mine. I’m a shell, a killer with a black heart, and the sooner I get away from them, the sooner they learn that I’m no good for them.

They’re strong, and Zoey has Hazel. They’ll be okay.

As for me, there’s nothing left to do but run.

Without a backward glance, I take off as my soul shatters into a million irreparable pieces. Zoey James can’t be anything but an agonizing memory, one I will bury with the body of the brother I killed.

26

Zoey

“Zoey,” Ms. Lennon, my biology teacher, says from her desk, and my head snaps up to find her signaling me to come to the front of the class.

My brows furrow as I make my way through the single-spaced desks, trying to go over everything that could have possibly resulted in me getting called out in class, but I come up blank. Apart from being a little behind on homework for a few weeks, I’ve been a perfect student.

As I reach her, I see a smirk resting on her lips, clearly knowing where my mind has gone, but she quickly puts me at ease when she hands me a slip of paper. “Chill out,” she laughs. “I just need you to dash down to the student office and ask for twenty copies of this worksheet.”

“Oh,” I say, letting out a heavy breath, trying to ease my racing heart. “I thought I was in trouble.”

Ms. Lennon’s brow arches. “Is there something you should be in trouble for?”

I let out an unladylike scoff. “Only my taste in the opposite sex,” I mutter, my mind instantly going to Noah. It’s been almost two weeks since he stood before me in my bedroom, promising that he’s always been mine, and since then, I’ve been a wreck. He’s tried to talk to me a few times, but for once, I’m the one keeping him at arm’s length. He knows that I’m just waiting for him to tell me what he wants, but he’s not ready, and I’m not going to allow him to rush into this. That wouldn’t be fair for either of us.

We’re both very different people than we were three years ago. So much has happened, and so much has changed. Our hearts are no longer the same, and there’s a lot we need to figure out before we can come together.

With the worksheet in my hand, I turn on my heel and hightail it out of the classroom before Ms. Lennon gets a chance to question me on my comment. She’s not exactly the nosey type, but if there’s something she feels she can help a student with, she’s always more than willing to give advice. Most of the time, it’s welcomed, but where Noah Ryan is concerned, the only advice I want to follow is the one coming from deep inside my chest.

The school corridors are deserted with most of the students locked away in their classrooms, and it’s one of the most peaceful times I’ve had walking these halls. The bullshit I get from Shannan has died down since the football game, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been lingering effects. She sneers at me at every opportunity, and while others haven’t got the memo and continue to chant trash at me, I try to keep my frustrations hidden from Noah. He’s struggling enough as it is.

Making my way into the student office, I pause, my heart coming to an abrupt stop as I spy Noah sitting in the chair outside the counselor’s office. He leans forward, his elbows braced against his knees as his head hangs low between his shoulders. From the look of it, he’s just finished his session, and I can only assume that Mrs. Thompson touched on some hard topics today.

Everything shatters within me, and I war with myself, wondering if I should go to him or leave him alone with his thoughts. Walking over to Dorris, the student office admin, I hand her the worksheet and explain what Ms. Lennon wants, expecting Noah’s head to whip up at the sound of my voice, but he doesn’t even flinch. It’s as though he’s so lost inside his own torment, he can’t escape.

Dorris shuffles off to make the copies, and I hesitate, but when it comes down to it, if Noah needs me, I’ll always be there.

Making my way toward him, my heart races, but I don’t stop until I’m stepping right into him, settling myself between his knees as my fingers brush through his hair. “Are you alr—”

I don’t even get to finish my question before his arms are around me, pulling me into him as he presses his head against my torso, taking deep, shaky breaths. I wrap my arm around the back of his head as the other hangs over his shoulder and down into the center of his back. My fingers roam over his back, giving him the time he needs to make the pain go away.

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