Page 60 of The Secret Of Us

“You’re talking to my girlfriend, so yes, it is my business.”

This isn’t the right time for butterflies to take flight in my stomach, but hearing him call me his girlfriend sounds better than it should. Noah rounds the desk to take his seat next to me, but as soon as he does, he’s back up again.

“Won’t be your girlfriend for long,” Ryan says, and the scrape of Noah’s chair against the ground has me covering my ears.

“She asked you to leave her alone, so I suggest you do what she says.” Noah’s deep voice makes those butterflies run rampant, and I wish they’d chosen a better moment than this.

“Or what?” Ryan taunts, clearly trying to get a rise out of Noah as he leans across his desk.

After hearing why Noah left his old school, it’s obvious that Ryan found out somehow. I know he wouldn’t actually do anything, because that’s not who he is, but I don’t want him to get into any trouble.

I reach out, closing my fingers around his wrist and pressing lightly. Noah glances down at me, his expression changing instantly to the gentle one I’m so used to seeing now. I shake my head lightly, silently telling him that it’s not worth it, and he understands. Noah lowers into his seat, not even bothering to look at Ryan again, and keeps his eyes focused on me.

Ryan scoffs right as Mrs. Harper enters the room. He didn’t get the fight he wanted, and he’s probably going to pout about it for the rest of the day. He goes back to his desk, looking back to glare at Noah before sitting down.

“I’m sorry,” Noah whispers as Mrs. Harper takes attendance.

“You don’t have to say that,” I reassure him, my thumb running across his wrist, before he removes it from my grip.

Even though he won’t act on anything, I’m starting to worry about how much more of this he can put up with. The constant taunts, glares, and whispers about him. It’s starting to upset me, too, just to know he’s having to deal with all of that. Even if he won’t admit it to me or himself, there’s only so much a person can take before it gets to them.

His arms are folded across the desk as he listens to whatever Mrs. Harper is saying. I reach over and tap his thigh before turning my palm so it’s facing upward. When Noah looks down, he doesn’t hesitate before giving me his hand. I intertwine our fingers together, giving a gentle squeeze that he reciprocates. Noah lets out a soft exhale, his shoulders relaxing as he holds on tight to my hand.

He absentmindedly strokes his thumb across the back of my hand, his fingers running up and down my knuckles. It’s like he’s trying to map out every part of it in his mind.

When Noah touches me like this, it gets harder to pretend that this is still fake. I feel special, like I’m something precious he wants to keep forever. I don’t want this to end, but we set an expiry date before it even began.

And I know that Noah can do better than me. He’s got his whole life figured out, and I barely know what I’m doing next week. I can’t bring him into my mess or distract him in any way from the future he’s dreamed of for so long.

So I’ll just keep these moments with me forever. I’ll remember that I had this time with him, that he made me feel the way no one ever has and probably never will ever again. And I’ll work hard at convincing myself that it was better than having nothing at all.

* * *

When I eventually make myway to Noah’s practice, they’ve already started playing a match. As soon as Luke notices me leaning against the fence, he jogs over to me.

“And what made you think coming down those stairs while you can’t walk was a good idea?”

“I have a weapon,” I warn him, waving one of my crutches in his direction.

“I also have a weapon, and it’s your brother’s phone number.”

I stick my tongue out at him. If he’s going to be childish, then so am I.

“I fell asleep before I could call him. I’ll tell him tonight, so you can calm down, old man.”

Luke crosses his arms across his chest, staring at me the same way Isaac does when he’s annoyed with me. Having two older brothers is fun until they start acting like this.

“You still haven’t explained why you’re down here when you’ve hurt yourself. I’m sure Noah would understand if you didn’t show up.”

We both look at the field at the same time. Noah’s so focused on watching the ball that he hasn’t noticed I’ve arrived yet.

“I wanted to,” I tell Luke.

It’s the simple truth. Noah’s shown up for me in more ways than I can count. The least I can do is hop down a couple of stairs to watch him play football.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good. At least let me get something for you to sit on,” Luke says before he runs up the stairs. He returns a few moments later with a chair he must have stolen from somewhere.

“You’re ridiculous,” I say, as he drops it in front of me.

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