Page 26 of The Misfit

Salem has disappeared from the window, and I check the other windows, waiting for a light to flick on in another part of the house. A moment later, it does downstairs.Shit.What if she comes out here looking for her brother and finds me?

“Maybe what?” Noah prompts, his tone different. Less hostile, more assessing.

My attention snaps back to him, but my thoughts scatter like marbles. “Maybe we’re both tired of being what everyone expects us to be. Her, the girl who needs fixing. Me, the … whatever the fuck people think or expect me to be.”

“The guy who got arrested last week for making out with some dude in a bar?”

I bark out a laugh. How does he know? “First, that wasn’t my fault. I don’t know why everyone thinks it was. And why the hell is that the only thing anyone is talking about? I’m so much more than that.”

“Salem mentioned it.” He shrugs, then adds, “Right before she said she met you in a dark pantry and that you were nice to her.”

Warmth blooms in my chest.She talked about me and thought I was nice. I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me in a way that wasn’t sexual or weird.

Focus.

“This is not what you think it is. I’m not …” I run a hand through my hair, struggling to organize my thoughts. “I’m not trying to hurt her. Or use her. I just?—”

“Followed her home in the middle of the night to return her gloves?” He finishes my sentence, and I suppose when he puts it like that …

“Well, technically, I followed you home in the middle of the night, but yeah, okay, this definitely sounds creepy as fuck.”

A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth. “At least you’re self-aware.”

The porch light behind him turns on.Shit.

“Noah?” Salem’s voice carries from the doorway, tight with anxiety. “Who are you talking to?”

I freeze, caught between the instinct to bolt and the sudden, overwhelming need to remain standing here so I can see her face.

“You …” She steps onto the porch but then stops, her gaze ping-ponging between me, the driveway, and her brother. I watch as she clenches her hands at her sides, the nitrile squeaking. “What are you doing here?”

WhatamI doing here?

How do I tell her I need her help, that I need her as much as she needs me, without sounding desperate? That I’m so interested in her.

“You counted as people moved around the couch earlier. It was soft, but I heard it.”

Her soft eyes fill with surprise. Noah looks back and forth between us like he’s watching a tennis match.

“I count things, too,” I continue, the words spilling out faster than I can filter them. “Not the same way you do, but … panels on the walls at home, seconds between traffic lights, and heartbeats when I’m trying not to lose my shit at family dinners. It helps sometimes. Quiets the noise in my head.”

“Oh, Lee.” Her voice is drenched in heartache.

No, that’s not what I need.She doesn’t realize it yet, but we have a lot more in common than she thinks, and just like her, I don’t want anyone’s pity.

“I brought your gloves.” I hold up the bag. “I saw how your hands trembled in the elevator, and I assumed you needed clean ones to drive.” I shake my head, thinking maybe sanity will return to my brain.

Good luck getting her to agree to be your fake girlfriend now.

“This is all coming out wrong …”

She takes another step forward. Then walks one, two, three steps down. She hovers over that last step. “You followed me home?”

“Technically, I followed your brother to the drugstore, then followedhimhome.”

“That’s not any better,” Noah mutters, amusement lacing his words.

Salem wraps her arms around herself, her gaze drifting away before coming back. She hasn’t run away yet. Hasn’t called the cops. Hasn’t looked at me like I’m crazy.

---