Page 13 of Mr. Picture Perfect
Me, the damsel in distress. And Cole, the hero in shiny armor, defending me against the evil onslaught of falling wooden squares and rectangles.
She smirks. “I bet they’d even ship you guys. Aww, wouldn’t that be cute? ‘A near tragedy turns into a love story …’ Nowthat’ssure to get some readers around here excited.”
I make a face and look away, staring off at the trees swaying in the wind. Even Tamika is writing headlines in the air. Ships, whether figurative or literal, couldn’t be farther from my mind.
Besides, he didn’t even know I existed back in high school and hasn’t had a thing to do with me since. Until today. It’s a statistical certainty that people like Cole Harding don’t think twice about awkward, forgettable nobodies like me.
Chapter 4
Cole
“Oh my goodness, you silly thing, it might as well have been a paper cut.”
I gape at my grandma. “Nan!”
“What? I was in the middle of talkin’ to Beth, y’know, therealStrong matriarch, Nadine’s mother-in-law, she’s in town for some kind of somethin’-‘r-other, and she wasinchesfrom givin’ me her sugar raisin spice muffin recipe, when I get the news that my own dear grandson was in critical condition down at the clinic. Critical condition my ass! I left you alone forfiveseconds.”
I peer down at my forearm. The entirety of it is swallowed in bandages. I guess when I arrived, my arm looked a lot worse than it was. Once the blood was washed off, it was just a matter of some skin getting scraped up from landing so roughly on the pavement. “Good thing ya did what ya did,” Dr. Emory had said, “otherwise I might be treatin’ that other guy for a concussion—or worse.”
The notion sent me into a what-if spiral of imagining far less favorable outcomes of today’s events.
I don’t care if I just embarrassed the crap out of myself in front of the whole town by fainting the way I did. I’d do it all over again if I had to.
I’m just glad Noah Reed’s okay.
“They’re callin’ you a hero,” says my Nan, stirring me from my thoughts. “Isn’t that somethin’?”
I smirk. “A hero with a paper cut, apparently. What were you doing with Beth? I thought you’d gone off to talk to Dorothy.”
“I did. Then I found Beth. I hardly get out of the house lately, I had alotof social business to attend to.”
The pair of us are slowly walking home from the festival arm-in-arm, figuring we can come back tomorrow, too, since the event goes on all weekend. Our street is quiet, the noise and murmur of the festival far away now. I find myself glancing back as we walk, despite not being able to see a lick of the festival from here. I had wanted to catch up with Noah, to see if he’s okay, to maybe have a drink with him, buy him some lunch, anything, just for an excuse to talk to him. Someone directed me to Biggie’s Bites, saying they saw him there with a few people from the newspaper, but by the time I was out of the clinic, they must’ve left. I ended up offering to help Martha and her husband (and moody son) clean up the fallen picture frames, just to loiter around the scene with the off-chance that I might spot Noah again, but there was no luck. Also, Martha insisted that I not help, considering my “mummy-wrapped arm”, and demanded that I go someplace to rest. That someplace ended up being back home, my Nan decided on my behalf.
“I remember little Noah.”
That stops me in my tracks. “What?”
“The boy whose life you allegedly saved today. I remember.”
“Really? What do you remember?”
“Everything. Why’d you stop? Go, go.” She tugs on my arm. Itismy good arm she’s hooked on to, by the way. We resume our way down the street as she talks. “I remember your mother was close friends with his mother. They went to each other’s houses all the time, dragged you poor kids along with them. You and little Noah didn’t know what to do with yourselves. And the moms would just talk and talk and talkallafternoon. I’d be in the kitchen hearing their banter—whenever they were atourhouse, of course. They had so much in common back then. One thing being griping about their husbands.” She lets out a tiny laugh. “But they never griped about their sons. That was their joint happiness—you and Noah. They sure dolovetheir boys.” Then she frowns. “Too bad about the falling out between them.”
I stop again. “Falling out?”
“Goodness, Cole, keep movin’ your feet, you’re gonna give me whiplash. Yes, falling out.”
“Wait, what happened? I didn’t know they had a falling out.”
“I didn’t either, ‘til one day I realized it’d been a week since they had one of their little day drinkin’ sessions, then I asked your mother if Deidra was out of town or somethin’, and boy, the look my sweet daughter-in-law gave me could’ve melted glass.”
I blink, astonished. “I can’t believe I never knew this.”
“To this day, still don’t know who was in the wrong or what happened between them, but they don’t speak anymore, and they would be damned to cross paths. I do hate how that happens,” she says with a long sigh. “From best friends to strangers overnight.”
“That makes me so sad, Nan.”
“Me too. Best not to dwell on it. Onward, upward.”
