Page 13 of Echoes of Us

“No fucking clue,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I don’t even know what I’m doing back here,” he added, running a hand through his hair.

“What else would you do?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Exactly, Atty, exactly.” He smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “There’s not much else to do.”

“Are you going to join the team?”

“No team should have me, trust me on that. I’m too flaky,” Noah said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation.

“Why?”

“I don’t show up, lose motivation, get too drunk or high. Choose one,” he droned, his tone flat.

Hearing him talk like that made my heart feel heavy. “You’ve been showing up,” I insisted, but he just made a noncommittal noise.

“I’ll stop. That’s what I do,” he said, giving me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

I felt uncomfortable. I had no idea what to say to that.

“What about you?”

“Engineering.”

A look of astonishment spread over his features. “Get out of town,” he said.

I snorted. “Why is that surprising?”

“I don’t know. I guess I figured you were just muscle. I didn’t know you were smart too,” Noah said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

I laughed again, feeling a slight sting of offense. “Well, fuck you,” I said, grinning.

He dissolved into giggles. “I’m sorry, I don’t think that came out right.”

“You mean you weren’t trying to tell me you thought I was thick?” I asked.

“No, I’m sorry. I meant I thought you were putting your money on the athletic scholarship,” he explained.

I guess that was a little better.

“I’m still slightly offended,” I told him.

He snickered. “You’ll get used to that too.”

“What?”

Noah was ridiculously attractive, with his chiseled features and effortlessly messy hair. But it wasn’t just his looks. The easy way he talked and smiled made you feel like you were the only person in the room. His charm was intoxicating, and I found myself completely drawn to him. We had next to nothing in common other than volleyball, and even that was a stretch because he wanted to quit, and I couldn’t ever imagine wanting to. But despite that, all I could think of was how the hell do I get close to him? How do I get him to keep looking at me like this?

“I say a lot of things I don’t mean,” he said, looking back at the house.

He was a gigantic red flag, and my gut was screaming at me to stay away. But at the same time, I had never wanted to be closer to another person in my life.

We sat on that ledge, chatting, for a long time. Ezra came looking for me, and before I left, Noah asked for my phone number. He went back into the party, and I watched the way his back moved as he walked in.

I found his socials and followed him. He reciprocated about an hour later. I looked through his pictures and felt even more entranced by him. Each image showed a different facet of Noah: laughing with friends, intense during a workout, and relaxed in candid moments. His bright green eyes and easysmile were captivating. I thought about texting him but couldn’t think of what to say, so I finally gave up. I hoped to see him at practice that week, but he didn’t show up.

I was walking with Ezra to class on Friday when I heard Noah call me.

“Atty!”

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