Page 39 of My Star-Crossed Summer

There’s someone else, he’d said. It was the one variable I hadn’t considered, and it blindsided me.

It also hurt like a punch to the kidney.

After that night, I avoided him completely. Part of me had hoped that he’d choose me instead. He’d tell me that he felt the same and would break up with Samantha and spend the summer with me.

But that didn’t happen. He and Samantha left for their backpacking trip the week after graduation. He posted endless photos of them hiking in Ireland, playing with puffins in Scotland, and swimming in an ocean that was an impossible blue.

He texted me a few times and sent a photo of himself posing with an adorable Shetland pony in a knitted sweater. It was charming and hilarious—one hundred percent Noah—and it broke my heart in half.

I wanted to call him and tell him,Choose me. Pick me.

But that seemed unlikely. Samantha was tall and model-gorgeous with big doe eyes and a warm smile. She had perfect skin, perfect hair, and had graduated summa cum laude—every time I scrolled through her social media channels, I felt more inadequate.

And in every picture she posted of them together, she and Noah looked like they were head over heels for each other.

When Gwen had scraped me off the floor for the tenth time, she grabbed my phone and unfollowed both Samantha’s and Noah’s accounts.I love you too much to watch you torment yourself like this, she’d said, and part of me was grateful.

I should have just talked to Noah—I see that now. But back on that beach, I didn’t know how to explain what I was feeling and what that meant for us. And afterward, I was too embarrassed to try. We knew how to do a lot of things together, but we didn’t know how to talk about our feelings for eachother. I was terrified that my words would ruin our friendship—instead, I wrecked it by holding them in.

I won’t make that mistake again. I touch the smooth stone in my pocket, just to remind me of this new promise, too.

When we’re past the creek, he slips his hand into the crook of my arm and starts to jog slowly. My body follows his without a thought because it remembers that Noah’s safe. My feet fall into rhythm next to his as his fingers tighten on my arm—just enough to let me know that he’s there, he’s got me—and we quickly close the gap and catch up with the group.

A growing part of me, though, would like to be out here alone. Just the two of us. Catching up for real. Saying those things we should have said a long time ago. I want to know why he let me go so easily and why he never reached out again after Samantha left him. I want to tell him why I panicked and how sorry I am for shutting him out.

But how do I tell him that now, without dragging all of that hurt back to the surface? Talking to him here seems like a very bad idea—the worst, actually. Because that conversation could either help us mend this terrible break, or it could blow up like one of those mega black holes that the kids learned about this week. And those things are seriously brutal. Like, swallow the galaxy and rip a hole in space-time brutal.

I really don’t want my talk with Noah to rip a hole in space-time.

But sometimes the scary move is the right one, that voice in my head whispers. And it’s right, I know—but knowing it’s the right move doesn’t make it any easier.

When we finally make it to the parking area, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, the sun shining bright again. Soaked to the skin, I cross my arms over my chest, thankful that I wore a loose tee shirt and hoodie, but wishing I’d brought a rain jacket, too. When we unlock the vehicles, the kids all pile inside. They’relaughing now, chattering as they climb over each other, taking the rain in stride. Tonight’s game night, and they’re already deciding who will team up at which game. Sophie opens the back of her van and starts passing out bottled water from a cooler, and even though I’m cold and drenched, I see why Noah does this every summer. For the first time in ages, I feel like I belong—and am a part of something that matters.

Noah rakes his hand through his wet hair, pushing it out of his eyes. Then he gives me a long look that I can’t quite decipher, and I feel the heat of his hands on my hips again. His gaze drops to my lips for one brief moment, so fast that I wonder if I imagined it.

But I definitely didn’t. When his eyes flick back to mine, they’re back to that deep shade of green that will haunt me until the end of time. I’m pinned in place by this look that’s heavy with longing, and I want so badly to pull him into my arms and kiss him until we’re both breathless.

A squeal and a giggle erupt from somewhere behind us, and then the moment’s gone.

“You two ready?” Sophie says, and my heart flutters in my chest like a bird. “Or you want to stay out here and get wetter?”

More chatter and laughter ripple over us. Noah smirks as he turns back to me and nods toward the cars. It’s a look that says,Come on, we’re in this together,and it’s precisely the message I needed to see.

Chapter Twelve

NOAH

I’m still reeling from yesterday’s hike. More specifically, from Victoria falling against me in a way that pressed every inch of her body against mine and filled my brain with a dozen thoughts that I definitely should not be having becausewe are work colleagues. I repeat that last part over and over in my mind, but it’s no use. When her hands landed on my chest and she looked up at me through those fluttering lashes, it took every ounce of my self-control not to wrap her in my arms and kiss her senseless.

My brain has been oh-so-helpfully playing that moment on an endless loop—all through dinner yesterday, all through game night last night.

And all through my dreams until daybreak.

I was still thinking about her at breakfast when I accidentally poured orange juice into my coffee.

“Hey there,” Sophie says, watching me as I sit down with my second attempt at coffee. “Your sister called again.” She slips me a note that says,Hannah says Need proof of life, please.

“Thanks,” I tell her.

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