Page 78 of Pages of Amber

“Fine, let’s say I do understand. You’ve never told us what you want to do and you can bet me, I won’t have you saying you’re not going to college.”

Noah scoffed. “You really don’t know me, do you? For you to think there was a possibility I’d say that.”

His dad pinched his nose. “What am I supposed to think when my son cuts off my attempts for him to study with his brother at a prestigious college? I’m all ears for the alternative you keep hiding from us.”

At his father’s request, the fight left Noah. He shrunk in his seat, as though embarrassed and unsure of himself. Amber couldn’t bear to see the contrast when he had spoken so proudly of his dream while they laid in the meadow. Grasping at his hand, she resolved not to let him shy away from this moment. She would give every last one of her possessions to get her mom to listen to her dream.

“You can do this, Noah. This is your chance,” she whispered, holding onto his hand tight.

He didn’t look at her but his hold on her said more than words could.

“Say something,” his father demanded.

Noah’s anger flared, aiming straight for his father. “You want to know the truth? Here it is. I want to be a philologist.”

Blank expressions swept round the table.

“A what?”

Noah exhaled heavily, as though a part of him didn’t believe he was opening up to them. The words rushed out of him, “I love literature, I love reading and discovering the meanings in prose and texts or studying the history of things. I love the feel of a good book in my hands and I would read forever if I could. I love learning and passing on that knowledge. I was terrified you wouldn’t care to understand what any of that meant so I looked up an explanation for why I was like this.”

“Oh, Noah.” His mom cupped her mouth, her eyes clouded with tears. Ronan stared wide-eyed at his brother while his dad took it in. The baffled expression on this face didn’t give much of an indication to his thoughts.

“You want to study literature?” his dad asked, the question rolling slowly off his tongue.

Amber winced at his lifeless tone. She grew less confident as seconds ticked by.

“Literature, linguistics, history,” Noah murmured. “It might not sound like much but it’s a wide bank of knowledge. If you’re worried about the fields I can apply it to, don’t be.” With a sharp inhale, Noah said, “I’ve submitted an application to a university and I’m waiting to hear back from their professor of history and literature.”

The veins in Mr. Rhodes’ neck bulged at Noah’s declaration. “What university? Without telling us?”

“Richard, that’s enough.”

“How could I tell you when you haven’t listened to a word I said.”

“You should have said something.”

“So that you can call it pointless again? No, thanks.”

“Stop!” Amber yelled, surprised her voice carried so loudly. It worked though. Every eye turned to her. She squeezed her napkin as they focused on her, praying for the strength to help Noah. “Stop fighting each other. It’s only going to keep driving you apart and you’ll end up hurting each other.”

Her eyes coasted across the table, bouncing between Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes. “Noah didn’t say this to hurt you. He’s been agonizing over telling you the truth for so long. Don’t drive him away by not listening. Mr. Rhodes, you want Noah to make something of himself. You want him to have a stable job and a happy life, and he knows that. But you can’t always choose for him. You can’t choose for us. We’re teenagers, we can be unruly and rebellious and stubborn but we know what we want. We just never say it because we’re scared of disappointing you or making you angry when all we want is for you to cheer us on. You’ve done the very best you can as parents but we don’t want to be controlled. Yeah, we might choose the wrong path or stumble and fall, but those won’t matter when we know you’re on the sidelines, watching, cheering and giving us the strength to pick ourselves up. We’re asking you to let go. We know it won’t be easy but we will always need you there, holding us up and loving us even with our faults, our mistakes, our failures.”

The room was silent when she finished. Her hands trembled in her lap and Amber vaguely noticed the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks. Her heart ached in her chest, the words long buried now out in the open. She glanced around the dining room with bleary eyes, her eyes appreciating the hanging portraits and warm colors that were missing in her house.

“You have a lovely home. Don’t let this be what tears your family apart because it will be too late to recover from that damage.” She should know. She lived in a broken home.

Amber swiped at her cheeks and stood. “Please excuse me.”

She hurried out of the room and through the front door before anyone could say a word. The tears spilled down her cheek one after the other even as she tried them under control. She sucked in a deep breath, then let it loose at the opening of the door behind her.

“I’m sorry,” she said when a glance back showed it was Noah who had followed her. “You probably regret inviting me to stay.”

Noah didn’t say a thing, instead his arms came around her from behind. They encircled her waist, blocking out the slight chill in the air as he squeezed her. Amber wondered if he could feel how hard her heart was beating in her chest.

“Noah?”

He squeezed her tighter, but she wouldn’t complain. She sank into him when he nuzzled into her hair, his breath tickling her neck. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have found the courage to say any of that without you. You’re my saving grace. You always have been.”

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