Page 113 of Academically Yours

THIRTY

Matthew

I knew something was on her mind, even after we had met her friends. It felt like we were so fully ingrained in each other’s lives, and yet there were still things we couldn’t say to each other. Were we scared? I felt like I was terrified.

We were spending all of our free time together, whenever I didn’t have class and Noelle didn’t have hall director duties to attend to. Sometimes that meant her sitting at my kitchen table as she poured over her assignments, trying to get all of her projects done for the semester.

Easter Break hadn’t come up again since dinner with her friends, and I hadn’t missed the hurt in her eyes when I said I was going out of town, but she hadn’t asked any other questions. I didn’t know how to tell her the truth, either.

Noelle was currently sitting at the table, growling in frustration at her laptop.

“Do you need help?” I asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as I moved around her, cooking breakfast.

“No,” she said, just shaking her head as she typed on the keyboard.

“Are you sure?” I asked again, going to grab my travel coffee cup from the cupboard.

“Yeah,” Noelle sighed. “I just can’t wait till this semester is over and I’ve graduated again so there are no more assignments or tests or papers.” She rubbed a hand over her makeup-free face.

I loved when she didn’t wear any, because it meant I could count each individual freckle on her face and trace my finger over them. She was so beautiful, no matter what.

She glanced at her watch and looked up at me. “Shoot. I gotta head over to campus for a meeting.” Noelle stood up, her arms stretched out as she yawned.

She had stopped bringing a duffel bag over and had just left a few changes of clothes at my house after we both realized how often she was here. I liked it—liked her clothes in my house, her toothbrush in my bathroom.

“Do you want any breakfast before you go, sweetheart?”

Noelle shook her head. “I’m not that hungry, and I can grab something later anyway.”

“Okay, but only if you’re sure.” I grinned. “Don’t want you to miss out on perfectly good pancakes.”

“Stop tempting me,” she laughed. “I’ll be late, and this is important.”

I noticed she didn’t tell me what was important, but I didn’t press. She would tell me when she was ready, wouldn’t she?

But then, she kept standing there, twirling a hair around her finger as she looked at me. Bit her lip, opened her mouth, and shut it a few times before finally saying, “Are you sure you don’t want to do anything this weekend?” Her eyes seemed to dart everywhere—to a textbook on the couch, to the pan on the stove—except my eyes. “I know you said you were going out of town, but I don’t have any plans and I thought maybe we could take Snowball to the park or someth—”

“I can’t.” I choked out. My voice was hoarse, and my throat felt dry. It was like all of the breath had suddenly gone out of my lungs, and I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t get the words out, my brain completely devoid of any way to explain what the day was. What it meant to me.

“Oh,” she frowned, but I could tell my dismissal stung.

“Noelle—” I started, but I froze. What could I say to explain it? How would I even explain it? I wanted to, and I knew she would understand, but the words wouldn’t come.

“It’s fine!” She shook her head, sending a grin my way but her eyes told a different story altogether. “Look, I should go.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, but I couldn’t get out the words I wanted to say. Stay, please.

“I uh… have a lot of studying to do, and I’ve been over here more than my own place lately. My girls are probably missing me.” Noelle shoved her things in her bag, and I was rooted to the spot.

My girl. My Noelle. I had been so open with her about so many things—why couldn’t I be about this?

I couldn’t say anything, even as she put a hand over my rapidly beating heart and kissed me on the cheek. “Have a good day, Matthew,” she said, and I squeezed her hand lightly, before bending down to plant a kiss on her lips.

“Bye,” I whispered, nuzzling her face with mine, hoping I could show her with actions how much she meant to me, even if words were failing me. Even if the thing I was keeping inside had been eating away at my heart all this time, I wasn’t sure I could even voice the thoughts. Could stomach saying them aloud, sharing the pain that I had kept at bay all this time.

~ ~ ~

I lied to her. I didn’t have plans for Easter break—wasn’t going out of town at all. But this weekend… I had always, every year, just holed up in my apartment and not let anyone see me.

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