Page 100 of Intermission
“Thanks.” I let the tiniest smile through, but it’s weak and only serves to bring more tears to my eyes. “In my head, I’m hugging you back.”
Our eyes lock, and I fight the urge to throw myself into his arms. When the temptation becomes too much to bear, I turn and flee. Pushing the door open, I exit the school on a blind and stumbling run.
Noah doesn’t follow.
I don’t expect him to.
By the time I reach my car, sobs shake my body so fiercely that I can barely open the door. I sit in my car while Noah fires up old Eliza. I close my eyes as she makes her crass departure, escorting Noah away from Kanton High. Away from me.
Panic strikes. Stealing my air. Curling forward, I hug my arms around myself, arms that ache with the need to hold on to Noah almost as much as my heart aches to realize just how long it could be before I see him again.
I should have wished him well. I should have said goodbye.
This is it. This is really . . . it.
Tonight, my family will head to Des Moines for Ryan’s wedding. We won’t get back until Sunday night. Monday will be spent moving Gretchen back into her sorority house. Mom has already given me a Cinderella-worthy list of post-wedding chores for Tuesday.
And Wednesday?
On Wednesday, Noah Spencer will board a plane bound for London.
Time has run out.
And I didn’t let him say goodbye.
I didn’t say goodbye.
Ryan’s wedding is beautiful, but even after he and Danielle depart for their honeymoon, the reception goes on. And on. And... on. It is well into the wee hours of Sunday morning before we return to our hotel suite, but sleep eludes me. Finally, when dawn peeks through the curtains, I head down to the lobby for the hotel’s continental breakfast.
Surprisingly, Gretchen is already dressed and sitting at a table.
Seeing me, my sister lifts one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” I plop in a chair and dump cereal and milk into a bowl. “How do you look so good? You had the same weekend I did.”
“It’s called makeup, honey. You should try it. You look like the living dead.”
“Yeah. Feel that way, too.”
I pick up the spoon and dig it into the cereal and then pull it out and do it again without taking a bite.
Three days. He’s leaving in three days.I can’t get it out of my head.
“Who’s leaving in three days?”
I blink. Look up. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Uh, duh. So . . . ?”
“Noah.”
“Oh, that’s right. I talked to him at Smoked Salt a couple of weeks ago. He waited on me and Justin one night.”
“How nice for you.” I scowl at my bowl. “Mom forbade me from eating there.”
Thankfully, Gretchen doesn’t respond to my surliness. “You know, you have pretty good taste, kid. I mean, sure, Noah’s always been a nice guy. Most guys that cute are just, well...” She pauses and thencrosses her arms and glares out the window. “They’re just so stinking full of themselves.”
Gretchen shakes off her scowl and looks at me. “What I mean to say is that Noah’s not like that. Not at all. I tell you, Faith, if you didn’t still have a thing for him, I might...” She laughs.
