Page 103 of Only in Your Dreams

Melody

I’ve been around sports long enough to know that the best cure for a bad-game hangover is the next game itself.

But tonight also happens to be an away game, and that means my first night without Zac since we started our sleeping arrangement. I’m bummed out by the prospect of lack of sleep, sure.

What hurts the most is that I’ll really miss it. The spooning. The sleepy kisses we have to keep quiet, with Noah staying over. The breakfasts before I head back to Parker’s for my daily interrogation whenever I make the supposed walk of shame from Brooks’s place.

I swear Zac held me extra tight in bed last night, like he was trying to get his fill before tonight.

“Hey, Coach,” Noah calls without looking up from his textbook, when I enter Zac’s kitchen in the early afternoon. “Mom’s home!”

I smack the back of his head on my way to the fridge. “I’m only eight years older than you.”

Noah turns a pair of wide brown eyes on me. The expression makes him look even younger than his twenty years. “So, you’re saying I have a chance with you?”

“I’m eight years older than you.”

“That doesn’t work both ways.”

“It works however I want it to.” I bend into the fridge, hoping for something easy to help myself to. I hadn’t had time to grab lunch before heading here to catch Zac before he leaves. “How’re you feeling about tonight?”

“Best I’ve felt about a game in years, actually. Are you coming to watch?”

“We don’t tend to go to away games.”

“Who’swe?”

“My brother and our friend Summer.”

Noah waves a hand dismissively. “So? I know it’s a three-hour drive, but you should be there when we win. You’re his girlfriend.”

I examine a couple of blueberry waffles leftover from this morning’s breakfast. “Am I? That’s news to me.”

A flash of color in a bottom drawer catches my eye, and I pull it open to find it stocked with green apples.

“Mel, we’re friends now, right?”

I straighten, apple in hand. “Are we?”

“The three of us watchedDrivetogether last night. Do you know how sacred that is? Besides, you guys told me about the fake boyfriend thing. If being in on a scheme together doesn’t solidify a friendship, I don’t know what does.”

“Then I guess that settles it,” I say, biting into the apple.

“Excellent,” Noah says briskly, snapping shut his textbook. “So, if I tell you something, you’ll keep it between us?”

“That depends.”

I study Noah. He doesn’t look worse for wear today, but I know that he meant to go back to his parents’ house after breakfast this morning. The fact that he’s already back isn’t a good sign. For the most part, it sounds like the rage-filled tirades are the worst he’s endured at the hands of his father, which is bad enough. If he’s about to tell me it’s escalated into something more, the chances are slim I’d be able to keep that to myself. There’s no way I’d leave him in that kind of environment.

To my relief, after a fleeting glance over his shoulder, Noah’s mouth stretches into a smile. He presses his elbows on the island between us. “You know, I’ve known Zac just over two years now. Since I was a freshman, right?”

“Okay…”

“And I’ve been staying over here at least a few nights a month since then.”

“If you plan on making a point before your bus leaves today, you’re going to have to pick up the pace.”

Noah sits back on his stool. “The point is that suddenly there are nice sheets on my bed. Paint on the walls. I’m getting waffles for breakfast. There’s all this weird artwork everywhere—”

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