Page 29 of Intermission
“Yeah.” He agrees, but his voice carries a sense of deadness. “I was.”
“That makes you only three years and... a month older than me.” I resist the impulse to bite my lip. “If you would’ve been born a few days later, you would’ve been a senior when I was a freshman.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” He nods, but his eyes are on the ground.
“I tried to tell you at the audition, but...” I shrug. “I got called up to the stage. I guess I forgot about it until now. It didn’t seem important.” I let out a heavy breath. The age difference did seem a little weird to me at first, but since I’ve gotten to know him? No. “Itdoesn’tseem that important. Not to me, anyway.”
“When I saw you inAnnie, I just assumed you were a senior,” he says, still looking at the ground. “Mrs. Thomas and Mr. Barronnevercast underclassmen in named roles. It’s like, an unwritten rule or something.”
He sighs. When he glances at me, a gentle frown puts a crease between his eyes.
“To be honest,” he says, “that first night we met up here, well, I was surprised when you told me you were still in high school. Even in those few minutes, I’d assumed you were college age. My age.” He pulls at the collar of his coat. “But you’re sixteen. A sophomore. In high school.”
“Don’t feel bad. People usually think I’m older than I am. Some even think I’m older than Gretchen.”
“Gretchen?”
“My sister.”
I wince at Noah’s telling, sharp inhalation. “You’reGretchen Prescott’slittle sister?”
“We’re very different.”
“Well,yeah.” Noah snorts then cringes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. I know my sister’s reputation. And I know she’s earned it.”
“Sorry. Wow.” Noah shakes his head. “You have two and a half years of high school left.”
I nod and fiddle with the drawstring of my hood.
“Sixteen. You’re only sixteen.”
“Yep. Pretty sure we’ve covered that.”
Again, Noah shakes his head, as if the two sides of his brain are arguing with each other. He gazes out over the creek. Finally, he lets out a long stream of air and turns back to face me. “Does it creep you out that I’m so much older than you?”
“Only a matter of days kept us from being in high school together. So, no. It doesn’t.”
“Maybe it should.”
I open my mouth, but Noah holds up his hand to shush me.
“But... that being said, there’s a part of me that doesn’t care about your age. I knewyoubefore I knew your age, and I think...” He takes a breath. “It’s weird, Faith, but this week I was thinking... maybe you’re the reason I’ve been stuck here in Kanton.”
“Uh...”Not sure how to take that.“Sorry?”
“No, it’s not a bad thing. At least I didn’t think it was before I knew your age.” He frowns. “I like you. A lot. I’ve never met anyone likeyou. There’s no one around here who gets it, you know? The theatre, performing...”
I nod. Idoknow.
“From the moment we met, we connected in a way that doesn’t have to do with age so much as... as fate. Except I don’tbelievein fate.” He makes a gruff sound in his throat. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’re pretty, you’re smart, you’re easy to talk to. But it’s more than that. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something... something almost magnetic going on here. Between us. It’s like I’m being drawn to you by something beyond my ability to comprehend.”
“I feel the same way.” He’s put into words every disorganized, random thought I’ve had about him—us—over the past couple of weeks. “Every time I’ve seen you, it’s been like, ‘I know him,’ you know?” I take a deep breath. “It’s like you’re a favorite old friend that I just met. I feel like I’ve known you forever. No. It’s more like this sense that Iwillknow you forever.” I nod, more to myself than to him, because it feels good to say it. “You’re right that it’s weird. But I think it’s weird in agoodway.”
“A favorite old friend I just met. I like that.”
In a swift, surprising motion, Noah stands and holds out his hand. I slip mine into his grip and let him pull me to my feet.
