Page 23 of When We Crash

She looked back in annoyance. “Are you going to apologize or…?”

Her denim-clad legs were long, and I couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips as she continued to walk away, not waiting for my response.

This is it. This isit.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, trying to get her to stop. I didn’t want to touch her. If my accidently bumping into her had her rolling her eyes, I could only guess what grabbing her hand would get me.

“It’s fine,” she tossed over her shoulder, but I couldn’t stop following her. She may as well have had me on a damn leash.

She walked past people who didn’t spare her a second glance, as if they couldn’t see what I was seeing. It wasn’t until they realized I was talking to her that they finally took notice.

I didn’t understand it. Blue hair or not, she was a woman to be seen. And I was seeing her, enjoying every flicker of movement it took for me to take her in, focusing in and out like a camera lens.

“Can I make it up to you?” I was desperate to find time with her, without an audience.

Her steps slowed to a stop and she turned. “What?” Her eyes squinted and she didn’t bother fighting her grin as she cocked her head to the side, her hair sliding against her skin.

I was a goner.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bump into you. I had a pretty terrible day, wasn’t looking where I was going. And judging by your reaction, you weren’t having the best day either. It couldn’t hurt to stop somewhere, get something to eat, maybe turn our luck around?” I shrugged, running my hand over the stubble on my chin, hoping I didn’t sound as crazy as I felt.

The dimple on her right cheek deepened and she pulled her books closer to her chest. Her teeth tugged on her lower lip a few moments before she finally said, “Yeah, sure. Make it up to me.” She started walking backward.

When she turned back around, I wondered if I should follow her again.

So I did.

“Wait! I don’t know your name, or how to get ahold of you,” I called.

“My name’s Noa Cruz. N-O-A.” She tossed out a series of numbers and I fumbled with my pockets, pulling my phone out and entering them.

By the time I looked up, she was gone.

Noa.

Not what I expected. But neither was she—with her blue hair and devil-may-care attitude.

Ralph walked up beside me, putting his arm around my neck. “It’s about time, dude. I was worried you were batting for the other team.” He let me go as we fell in step together.

I ignored him and unlocked my car, tossing my backpack in and settling into the driver’s seat. After the Rachel debacle, I wasn’t paying too much attention to his opinions.

I tried to act nonchalant, but my heart was beating overtime, my hands gripping the steering wheel for dear life. I needed something to hold on to. I was so elated that I would probably float away if I didn’t.

Most people looked for giant signs signifying someone wasthe one,but for me, it only took a glimpse into her eyes. They saw me. The person I was, not Dexter. The person I’d been ineachlife.

Her eyes told a story of loves and lives past.

And even ifshedidn’t know me, her eyes did.

Ralph squeezed himself into the passenger side, and I chuckled when he looked over at me, pushing his seat back in annoyance.

I pulled off and thought back on Noa.

How do I approach this?

What do I do?

I glanced over at Ralph.

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