Page 82 of Remember Us This Way

I reach up to wipe the fresh tears off my face, but the swaying gets worse, and before I know it, the ground is coming up fast.

“ZOEY!”

Noah throws himself off the couch, his arms scooping under me just as I hit the ground, and he immediately pulls me into his chest as I go limp in his arms. “Zo,” he says, gently shaking me as my eyes flutter open, looking up into his terror-filled ones. “Zo, baby. Are you okay?”

I close my eyes again, groaning as my head pounds. “I don’t feel good.”

“Shit,” he says, reaching up and feeling my forehead. “I think you’re getting sick. You’ve gone pale.”

My bottom lip pouts, and I let out a heavy sigh. “This isn’t how I wanted to spend the rest of my birthday.”

“I know,” he says, sitting me up just a little, the movement making my head spin worse. “When was the last time you had water? Can you get up?”

“Okay, Mom,” I mutter, forcing myself up, despite the way I wobble on my feet. “I had two glasses of water with my dinner. I’m fine. I’m probably just coming down with something. You know, half the school has had the flu this week.”

His face scrunches with distaste. He’s not a fan of sharing germs when other people are sick, but he hasn’t dared to take his hands off me. His arm curls around my waist, and as I wobble my way out of the den, Noah decides he can’t handle it, and he scoops me into his strong arms.

I curl into his chest as he walks through my house, murmuring something to my mom about a headache. She promises to bring me some painkillers and a glass of water, and before I know it, I’m tucked into my bed, curled into Noah’s side.

“You sure you’re okay?” he questions, his fingers brushing through my hair.

“I’m already starting to feel better,” I tell him honestly. “Maybe I just got too worked up over the whole college thing.”

“Ya think?” he scoffs, a smile in his rich tone.

I yawn, despite it barely being eight in the evening. “I got you something,” he tells me as he digs into his pocket and pulls out a little velvet box.

He hands it to me, and I gape at him. “You’ve been carrying that around all day?”

Noah laughs. “Maybe.”

I roll my eyes and take it from him, a strange mix of excitement and anticipation burning through my body. I hold my breath, my fingers braced against the little box, and as I open it, it takes my breath away.

A beautiful gold necklace stares back at me—a dainty, subtle chain that drops down to a gorgeous pendant, the letters Z and N wrapped in a heart and making my own flutter. I glance up at him, wonder shining in my eyes. “You had this made for me?”

“Of course I did,” he says as though any other option simply doesn’t exist to him.

“Thank you,” I tell him, tilting my chin and giving him a small kiss, a wide smile spreading across my lips. “It’s incredible. I love it.” Then gazing down at the way the Z and N so perfectly fit together, I pull it out of the box and hand it to him. “Will you put it on me?”

“You’re about to go to bed.”

“And?” I question. “I’m never taking it off.”

Knowing a losing fight when he sees one, he takes the necklace from my fingers and we each sit up as I brush my hair over my shoulder. He loops the stunning gold chain around my neck, brushing his fingers over my skin as he fastens it at the back. His lips drop to my shoulder, and he gently kisses me there as I glance back to meet his warm gaze.

“It’s perfect,” he tells me, my cheeks flushing, knowing he’s not talking about the chain.

“I love you,” I tell him. “With everything that I am. You’re my bestest friend.”

He pulls me back into his arms, scooching us down in bed as he pulls me into his chest, and as my fingers run over the beautiful pendant hanging from my neck, his lips press against my temple. “You’re my whole world, Zoey James,” he tells me. “I don’t know how I would ever survive without you.”

33

Zoey

March, April, and May passed in a blur, and I don’t know how it happened, but one second, we had months up our sleeve, and the next, Noah is close to graduation, and all we have left is the upcoming summer.

It’s been a long day and an even longer final period. My gaze drifts up to the clock above the whiteboard, watching the last few seconds of the school week countdown with heavy eyes. I’ve been so tired lately. I even slept right through my alarm this morning, and it has everything to do with the constant worrying about what this next year is going to bring, that and Noah calling me every night. It’s always a short call, intended just to say goodnight, and somehow, we end up talking for ages. Sometimes hours go by before I realize what time it is.

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