Page 97 of My Fault
I nodded and wished I was the one doing it.
“I’ve never told you this, Ella, but I’m glad you’re here, that you’re both here,” I said, not really aware of what I was doing. The words just came out of my mouth. But they were true. Noah had changed my life, had made it more interesting, had made me want to fight for something and not just give up—for her. I wanted her.
I was going to change, I was going to be a better person, and I was going to treat her the way she deserved, no matter the cost. I wasn’t going to stop till I had her.
The next morning, I went downstairs for breakfast and saw Noah as always, with a bowl of cereal and a book. But she wasn’t reading. She wasn’t even eating. She just spun her spoon around in her bowl, her mind clearly elsewhere. When she heard me, shelooked over and then turned to the pages of her book. Raffaella was there in her reading glasses looking at the paper.
“Good morning,” she said. I poured myself a coffee and sat down across from Noah. I wanted her to look at me, wanted to see her react somehow to my presence. Even anger would have been fine, as long as she didn’t ignore me—that was worse than a shout or an insult.
“Noah, aren’t you going to eat?” her mother asked, a little louder than normal. Noah looked up, pushed away her bowl, and stood.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Forget that, Miss. You didn’t even have dinner yesterday. You better finish your breakfast,” Ella ordered her.
Shit. Now Noah wasn’t eating, and it was all my fault.
“Leave me alone, Mom,” she said and walked out of the kitchen.
“What happened, Nicholas?” Ella asked me, taking off her glasses.
I ignored her and got up.
“Nothing, don’t worry.” I caught up with Noah in the hallway.
“Hey, you!” I called her, hurrying to get in front of her.
“Move,” she said.
“So you’re not eating now?” I asked her. She didn’t look right. She was haggard. “How are you, Noah? Don’t lie. If you don’t feel good, we need to go to the hospital.”
“I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much.”
I walked with her up to her bedroom.
“How long are you going to go without talking to me?” I asked.
“I’m talking to you now, right?” she replied, waiting for me to move away from her door.
“I mean talk to me, not bark at me, which is what you’ve been doing ever since we got home from the Bahamas,” I said, trying my best to reach her the way I’d been able to before.
“I told you, Nicholas, this is over. Now move so I can get to my room.”
Dammit.
33
Noah
I knew I’d been an idiot for not taking better care of myself. Things had piled up, and I’d let them get out of control. Nick, the letter, the fall, everything had gotten the better of me. Being with Nicholas had brought problems and suffering, more suffering that I knew, and I realized that I needed to let it all go. Not doing so was bad for me, and it was bad for him, too. It was painful to admit I wouldn’t be able to hold on to him, but I realized it was right, even necessary, if I wanted to build a new life here, find a place for myself in this city, and put back together the shattered fragments of my heart.
So I got out of bed ready to leave all the bad things behind. I was supposed to go shopping with Jenna that afternoon. There was only one day left before class started, and even though I was nervous and scared, I was happy to leave the summer behind, start over, do better, get the old me back.
Thank God, Jenna was the type who sucked you in when you were with her, so I got distracted between her and the thoughts of what my first day at St. Marie’s would be like. Jenna said it was an elitist school, and even if there were lots of different kinds ofpeople there, they all had one thing in common: they were loaded. I didn’t know how I’d fit in there, but before I could even blink, it was seven in the morning, the alarm was going off, and it was time for my first day of class.
My uniform, now properly tailored, was waiting for me on the chair by my desk, and when I emerged from the bathroom, I started dressing, unable to avoid feeling weird. The skirt was now about five inches above my knee, and the shirt fit snugly in all the right places. I put on my black shoes and looked at myself in the mirror. My lord, why did it have to be green—moss-green at that? Even worse, I had no idea how to tie a tie. Leaving it off for now, I grabbed my bag and walked out with the typical apprehension of the first day of school: typical for a six-year-old anyway, if not for a seventeen-year-old.
Mom was in the kitchen, dressed but looking sleepy, with a cup of coffee in her hand. Nicholas was sitting in front of her at the island. I’d hardly seen him since I’d come back from the hospital. One time he’d checked in on me, and even then, I’d pretended to be asleep. That was three days without talking. My mother said he hadn’t even slept at home. I couldn’t help but pause in the doorway to look at him briefly. His hair was disheveled, and he looked good in his jeans and his loose black shirt. I had to remind myself of everything that had happened.
