Page 3 of Noah

I knew exactly what he meant. Growing up. Responsibility. All that stuff we weren’t ready for but were being told to prepare for anyway.

The next time I saw Jackson, things might be different. I didn’t want to think about it, but the thought crept in anyway.

Maybe the next summit would be the one where we wouldn’t get to sneak off like this.

Maybe he’d rather be in those talks, listening to someone drone on about border patrols or alliances or whatever it was that mattered to grown-ups.

Would he still want to come with me then? Or would he be too busy preparing to lead his pack?

I shook the thought away. “Come on,” I said, forcing a grin. “Let’s go before someone drags us back in there.”

Jackson nudged me with his elbow, a teasing grin playing on his face. “So, what did you tell them to get away?”

I shrugged. “That I was hungry.”

Jackson stopped abruptly, glancing at his watch, then tapping its face dramatically. “But it’s only 10 a.m. Didn’t you just have breakfast?”

“I’m not actually hungry!” I protested, giving him a shove.

Right on cue, my stomach growled.

Jackson burst out laughing. “Sure, sure. Not hungry at all.”

Before I could argue, he jogged off toward the area where the buffet tables were being set up.

I watched him duck behind a couple of volunteers and return with three sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. He handed me two.

“Here,” he said.

I stared at the sandwiches in disbelief. “How did you even get these?”

They usually didn’t let anyone take food early—it was all for lunch. They only gave out the extras if there were leftovers.

“I just told them my kid brother was starving.” Jackson smirked, clearly proud of himself.

I huffed, glaring at him. “Kid brother?” I wasn’t sure which annoyed me more—being called a kid or his brother.

He just laughed, the sound easy and genuine, making it impossible to stay annoyed for long.

I unwrapped one of the sandwiches and took a big bite. Ham and cheese. I didn’t really like ham, but for some reason, today I didn’t mind.

We started walking along the edge of the square, heading toward a small park nearby. As we went, I offered the extra sandwich back to Jackson.

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Think of it as a thank-you—for getting me out of there earlier.”

I glanced at him, surprised. His smile was different this time, softer, more... something I couldn’t quite place.

A faint scent of cedarwood and something warm and sharp, like orange peel, floated past. Heat rose to my cheeks.

“It’s just a sandwich,” he said, reaching over to ruffle my hair. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone notices us.”

I stuffed the extra sandwich into my jacket pocket, carefully buttoning it shut so it wouldn’t fall out.

The park was quiet, its grassy paths weaving through clusters of trees and a couple of empty benches.

We wandered in silence, the occasional rustle of leaves and distant voices from the square filling the stillness.

Eventually, we ended up near a more secluded area where the park edged into the woods. The thick trees loomed ahead, their shadows stretching across the grass. I hesitated, glancing at Jackson.

---