Page 59 of The Luck of Finding You
“Does there have to be a right place?” I ask. I’ve been in Utah my whole life. I love it and don’t really want to move, but I’m also not opposed to the idea. Holly moving to California showed me that you can find roots anywhere, even if it means putting them down yourself.
“Sometimes it feels like there needs to be a right place,” Noah says.
“I thought you were Mr. ‘Go With the Flow.’” I shove some water in his direction.
“I am,” he says. “But this feels like one of those things that I don't need to do on an impulse.”
“That sounds kind of lonely,” I say, thinking back to our conversation last night about how lonely I am. Maybe lonely people are just everywhere.
“Says the lonely girl.” Noah’s eyes are gleaming, so I’m only slightly prepared for what happens next. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close to him. “And who said I was lonely now?”
Before I can answer, he dunks both of us. I come up sputtering, pushing him away so that he doesn’t pull me under again. I shiver, now that my hair is wet. “I’m going to have to shower again.”
“What did you expect? We’re swimming.” Noah’s laughing as he treads water. I can’t help it, I start to laugh too.
We manage to stay in the pool for almost an hour before we both get out, our fingers pruney and purple. “How can I be so cold?” I ask through chattering teeth. My hands are shaking so badly that Noah has to help me wrap the towel around my shoulders. I’m instantly warmer with it around my body, but I can’t stop shaking. “It has to be eighty degrees out here.”
“If the water isn’t warm, it doesn’t matter how hot it is outside,” Noah says, wrapping his towel around his waist so all I can see are his beautiful abs. I’d like to run my hands across them, but given the circumstances, I don’t think that’s a good idea.
When I look back up at Noah’s face, he’s got a half-smile, like he knows exactly what I was just thinking.
“How can the water not be warm?” I try to change the unspoken subject about how I want to touch his skin. “The pool is in the sun.”
Noah shrugs. “I don’t know how it works. But since you’re cold, you can shower first when we get back up to the room. Or we could hop in together to save some time.” Then the man has the nerve to wink at me. Wink!
“We will not be doing that,” I manage to say and wonder how I’m going to getthatthought out of my head. Plus, now I’m like five thousand degrees, thanks to that comment, so at least I’ve warmed up.
Noah shrugs like it’s not a big deal and that I didn’t just turn him down for something pretty big, so I try to act like it’s not a big deal either.
* * *
Dripping wet,we make our way back to our tiny room, taking the stairs instead of the creepy elevator. I shower quickly, singing the lyrics of “The Best Day” by Taylor Swift to think about my mom instead of Noah. I hang my neon swimsuit carefully over the shower door to dry and twist my hair up in a towel.
Noah is reading on his bed when I come out of the steamy bathroom.
I do my makeup with my small mirror while he’s in the shower. When he finishes, I brush out my hair, deciding I’ll straighten it after it air-dries. I’m painfully aware that we now have three hours to fill and we’re just sitting a few feet away from each other on our own beds.
I need to message Mo, but the thought makes my stomach roll. What if today, of all days, I say something that makes him not want to meet me? Why would I want to ruin something before it has even started?
“You okay?” Noah asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“What? Oh yeah. Totally good.” I’m mortified that not only was he watching me but that he also could read how I was feeling.
“What’s going on?” he asks me. “We don’t have to talk about it, but you’re looking a little green.”
“I’m nervous about meeting Mo.” No point in keeping it a secret I guess; Noah knows that’s going to happen tonight.
“Mo. That’s the guy you’re meeting?” Noah asks, and I realize I’ve never told him Mo’s name. Not that it matters. But it’s weird to hear him say it. “Want to practice what you’ll say?” He sits up, facing me. I turn to face him and in the cramped space, our knees brush. I tuck my legs under me. No touching Noah. I have to remind myself of that rule. I wish Holly would text me back, but the only thing she said this morning wasGo get your man!Which was the opposite of helpful.
“I guess.”
“Okay. So how are you meeting him?” Noah asks, and my stomach drops.
“We, uh, haven’t planned that yet,” I say, realizing how stupid that sounds. “We need to make a plan though, right? Because otherwise, how will we find each other? We don’t know what each other looks like.”
“A plan would be good.” Noah pauses, rubbing his chin. “Are you sure this is a good idea? He could be a creep or something.”
“There will be like six hundred other people around. I think I’ll be okay,” I say, even though now I’m questioning everything. Maybe this really is a terrible idea. I reach for my phone. “I’m going to message him. I’ll tell him what I’m planning to wear and that we can meet at the main entrance at 5:30 so we can go in together.”
