Page 114 of Mr. Picture Perfect
“I’m listening to your heartbeat, and I’m with you tonight … and I’m happy,” he says, “… right now.”
I close my arms around him. “Good. That’s all I ever want you to be. Just listen to my heart. It won’t lie. They’re the most honest creations in the world. Second only to the eyes. Hearts and eyes can’t lie.”
I feel him smiling against my chest.
At least I’m pretty sure it’s smiling.
Then his arms wrap around me, too, his face still pressed to my bare chest. Nothing more is said. The two of us remain just like that for quite some time, embracing each other, as the walls of the room slowly meld between the colors of the rainbow from the soft nightlight in the corner.
There’s no one I’d rather be with than this guy right here.
“I love you, Noah,” I whisper into his hair.
His slow breaths are his only reply.
He’s fallen asleep.
I smile, satisfied with my confession anyway, as I hug his body even tighter against mine. I don’t know what my last thought is before sleep finally takes hold, but I imagine it has something to do with the sweetness in his voice when he said he was counting my heartbeats.
I feel so happy right now.
When I wake up, bright morning light is pouring through the window, eclipsed slightly by the edge of the drapes. The nightlight is still on, but its vivid colors are drowned out by the sun.
I sit up to find I’m alone. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, then slip to the end of the bed. That’s when I notice Noah’s backpack is gone. “Noah?” I call out, then rise to my feet and pull open the drawers by the bed. Empty. I leave the bedroom and glance down the hall either way. I check the nearby bathroom, the lounge, the den with the bay window, and the front of the whole estate itself.
Where did he go?
Chapter 20
Cole
I stand backstage in the semidarkness.
The thick, impatient crowd buzzes like a hive of furious bees out there, the pavilion packed beyond imagination.
I was told the curtains rise in exactly six and a half minutes, despite the stage having no curtains.
It’s just the saying, I guess.
I can’t peel my eyes off of the ground. I can’t seem to blink. I feel numb from head to toe.
Where did everything go wrong?
Ever since I woke up alone yesterday morning, I felt like some part of my soul’s missing, like it was cut out and taken across the world, too far away from me to even feel it anymore.
I must have looked like I was having a panic attack, the way Anthony stared at me at the breakfast table that morning. “I dunno where he is. How would I know where he is? Dude, I’m just eatin’ my eggs and mindin’ my own. I woke up ten minutes ago, I don’t even know where my dick is.”
Dean was similarly unhelpful: “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear or see anything this morning. Do you suppose he went home, fearing he had overstayed his welcome? He’s such a shy, quiet boy.”
I combed through the main house and still saw no sign of him, nor any clue of where he went.
Or more importantly: why?
TJ, who I found at the pavilion trying to help out with last-minute adjustments to the table décor (and being shooed away over and over again by the hired employees), was surprised by Noah’s quiet departure, but seemed otherwise unconcerned about it. “Maybe he had a meeting at the paper. Aren’t they trying to organize a live stream of the event on their website?”
By that point, I must have called and texted Noah fifty times.
No answer. No reply.
