Page 2 of Keeping Noelle

“Do the dishes first,” my mother orders before she stomps out of the kitchen.

Kevin gives me a mean grin and then pushes his bowl into the kitchen sink. Milk splatters all over the sink and counter, and Isigh, frowning as my stepbrother grabs his keys and heads out the door.

I hate and envy Kevin. He’s always been given more of everything. More freedom, more love, more leeway, more kindness, more money. Everything good was his, and everything hard or terrible was pushed off onto me. I’ve had to clean up messes and cancel plans to handle something that someone else could have or should have done. I’m my family's scapegoat, the outcast. I’m the mistake.

They’ve actually called me that to my face before. My dad left my mom when I was born, and she met and married my stepdad when I was six. After that, I was the one who didn’t fit or belong. It only got worse when they had Kevin. He was a boy and theirs.

I’ve grown used to feeling like this. Besides my friends, the only one who makes me feel special is Ansel. My body heats as I think about my best friend.

I’ve always been in love with him, ever since we were kids. He was always there for me, always looking out for me, always trying to help me. I’m so excited to have him back in town. I’ve missed him like crazy these last four years, as evidenced by the fact that I think I wrote him at least two letters a week the whole time that he was in the Marines. I was so nervous when he was away, afraid to get the news that he had been hurt, or worse.

Now he’s back, safe and sound, and he bought a house, which means that he’s going to stay. I’ve seen him only once since he moved back, and I’m really looking forward to hanging out with him for a whole week.

I just hope that I can hide my crush from him for that long.

I get started on the dishes, rushing through them so that I can leave and have some peace from this place for a bit. I dry the last dish and put it away, then hurry back to my room. I need to get out of here before they push another chore off onto me.

I know that people wonder why I bother staying here or having any contact with my family, and the truth is that I don’t have a firm answer for that. I guess it’s true what they say about breaking trauma—it can be tough.

I guess not being able to afford to move out would also be a good reason.

I grab my duffle bag, slip my coat and boots on, and then sneak through the house and out the front door, jogging through the snow to where my car is parked at the end of the driveway.

I throw my bag in the passenger seat and twist the key in the ignition, sending up a silent prayer when my car starts. It’s been on its last leg for years. Ansel used to help me fix it when we were in high school, and since he left, I’ve been taking it to Foster at the mechanic shop here in town, but he tells me that it won’t run for that much longer without me having to replace something big and expensive.

I see the front door start to open and I shift into drive and take off away from the curb before they can stop me and force me to do something else.

The roads are icy, and I drive slowly down the backroads towards Ansel’s cabin. Memories flood me as I pass by familiar landmarks on my way. I haven’t been out this way in years. It was always Ansel’s and my spot, and I guess that I just didn’t want to come here without him.

I spot his place and grin as I pull in and park next to his truck. I’m so excited to be here with him and away from my toxic family for a bit. It’s been years since I’ve had a break, and I’m going to take advantage of this little staycation as much as I can.

My eyes scan the cabin, and my mouth drops open.

“What do you think?” Ansel asks, and I grin at him as he comes out onto the porch.

“It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it,” I tell him as I rush up the front porch steps and wrap him up in a big hug.

My arms barely fit around his wide body. He’s even bigger than I remember and he seems so much taller.

“I missed you,” he whispers as he hugs me back.

“Not as much as I missed you.”

He chuckles, squeezing me tighter, and I smile, cuddling into his side more. It feels so perfect to be pressed up against him like this. This is where I’m meant to be. I just wish that I could stay here like this forever.

“Come inside before you catch a cold. Let me get your bags from the car.”

“Thanks.”

I head inside and look around. The house is pretty bare still, with some boxes stacked up in the living room and some more by the stairs leading up to the second floor. A fire flickers in the fireplace, and I move closer, warming myself as I look around.

The walls are all logs and ideas start to fill my head of ways to decorate and make the house feel cozier. More like a home.

“What do you think?”

“I think that you need a rug,” I tell him, motioning with my hands where I’d put it.

“A rug. Got it. You can help me pick something out. What else?”

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