by Gail Haris
Noah doesn’t meet my eyes. Should I acknowledge that I know him? Are we pretending not to know each other? Does he not want to bring up how we know each other? My mind is running ninety to nothing and my heart is beating so hard it physically hurts. The girl in front of Noah cuts her eyes to me and sneers. I lean over and whisper to Noah, “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”
Noah chuckles. “How could you?” He leans closer to me, “Unless you did a little digging and purposefully signed up for the same classes as me and found out my seating arrangements.” He raises an eyebrow at me and gestures toward my schedule on the desk. “Let me see. Should I expect you in any more of my seats today?”
I hand him my schedule, and he reads it. I notice that the girls in front of us are quiet and have their heads tilted. Nosy bitches. I grab my notebook and pen. I decide to not dance around the topic of whether we know each other or not.
Thank you for being so nice. How is Aunt Andrea?
I hand Noah my notebook. He looks surprised as he takes it, and I hear him sigh as he writes back.
You mean thank you for not being an ass? Seriously. Chill out. It’s just a seat. She misses you. Your parents won’t allow her any contact. I doubt they know we have any of the same classes. Well, they might know… Knowing them, they know.
I want to cry as I read, but I keep it together. I glance up at the girls and notice the one in front of Noah has her hands on her lap in fists.
You know them better than I do :)
Noah chuckles when he reads it.
I guess I do… that’s weird.
This is so bizarre. A slight giggle escapes me. What else can I do in this situation? I might as well laugh rather than cry. The girl in front of me huffs so I give him a smirk when I hand him the book.
Is she your girlfriend?
She wants to be.
Pretty sure she thinks she already is. She’s about to claw my eyes out.
He laughs harder. The girl in question turns around and taunts, “Aren’t you a little old for writing love notes?”
Noah’s good humor quickly dies and is replaced with annoyance. “Karlie, turn around and mind your own business.”
Thank goodness Mrs. Sanders stands in front of the class and calls attention. I’m so relieved for class to begin. But then my stomach plummets when she says, “Class, we have a new student. I want everyone to welcome Sarah Randall.”
Everyone turns and stares at me. Karlie has a look of shock, but then she gives me a smile that turns my stomach. She’s going to try and be trouble for me, but I won’t let her get to me. Surprisingly, I don’t think anyone has made the connection with me to Noah. When Mrs. Sanders begins going over the English assignment, I write to ask him.
Does anyone know that we’re cousins?
He doesn’t look at me and keeps his eyes between Mrs. Sanders and the notebook as he writes. He slides the notebook to my desk.
Are we still cousins? I mean, technically speaking? As far as people knowing—Cindy left and never returned. None of my friends knew I even had an aunt. With us having a different last name as Cindy, not many people knew the connection when it hit the news. The Randalls know, but they said they’d keep it hush if we don’t contact you. I’m glad you’re even talking to me. Mom will be glad too.
A small smile pulls at me when I read that last part. I focus during the rest of the class on Mrs. Sanders. At the end of class, Noah stands and says he’ll see me third period.
Karlie smiles at me. “Sarah Randall, my my. I guess I should welcome you back to Lumberton also.”
She looks like she’s about to say something, but Noah speaks over her, “Ignore Karlie and her minions. They lead boring lives so they may fixate on you. Try to take it as a compliment.”
Karlie let’s out an ‘ugh’ and leaves with her loyal minions following behind her.
Jeff and the other guy come to stand next to Noah. “This is Jeff McClish and Keaton Sloan.” They nod and pat Noah on the shoulder, I guess letting him know they’re heading out of the classroom. Noah nods to them and then pats my shoulder. “See you around.”
As I watch them walk away, I wonder if the patting of the shoulder when saying goodbye is a Missouri thing or just a guy thing. I head on to Mr. Barnes’s class for History.
Mr. Barnes is grouchy until he begins teaching. He’s an older man with brown hair and beard mixed in with a few speckles of grey. His eyes are a bright blue that sparkle with animation when he discusses ancient civilizations. He wears a brown suede jacket over a hideous, green plaid shirt and jeans. He’s tall with a slight belly. The man is almost comical with the way his mood changes so drastically. One thing I can say about him is, I love how passionate he is.
He passes out an outline for the chapter with questions we’re to complete by the end of class. When the paper is placed on my desk, I immediately write my name at the top. They really drilled that into us in elementary school to write our name first thing on every assignment. I scan the questions first and then begin reading the chapter. When I’m finished with the assignment, I proofread my paper before turning it in. The first thing I notice is I got the very first question wrong. Where it says Name, I answered Olivia Stevens.
It still feels like my name. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. My hand has a slight quiver as I erase what I’d written. It feels as though the more time passes, I keep erasing more and more of who I was and who I am. Very slowly, I write Sarah Randall as neatly as possible across the page.
When class is over, a girl from the far side of the room comes rushing over to me. She has long brown hair with highlights, bright steel blue eyes, a cute nose, and full pouty lips.
“If I’d known who you were at the beginning of class, I would’ve sat with you! I’m friends with your brothers.” She pauses and looks up as she is reconsidering her statement. “Well, I’m more like best friends with Landon and infatuated with Trent.” She giggles and holds her hand out. “I’m Rachel Abernathy. What class do you have next?”
I shake her hand and tell her physical education. She doesn’t have the same one, so she suggests we have lunch together. I don’t really have anyone else to sit with, so I agree.
Landon is waiting for me outside the door. He nods to my new hyper-active friend. “Hey Rae! See you at lunch.” We walk down the hall and out the doors to the sidewalk. “I see you met Rachel. She’s been my best friend since our elementary days.”
“She seems great. Lots of energy.”
He chuckles at that. “That she does. But she’s got the biggest heart. She tries to hide that by acting over-confident. And she disguises how sensitive she is with all her bubbliness.”
“Bubbliness? Is that a word?”
“I said it, so it is.” We laugh as he opens a door that leads outside. “Come on. We gotta go out here and the gym is right there. So how was your first class?”
“It went well. Even though I met a girl name Karlie that instantly hated me.”
Landon nods. “Oh, that was probably Karlie Snyder. Mega bitch. Avoid and ignore her.”
We make it to the gym and the second bell rings. “Aren’t you going to be late for your class?”
Landon shakes his head and waves my comment off. I debate if I should tell him about Noah. Does he know that Noah is Cindy’s nephew? Instead I thank him again and head into the gym. As soon as I walk in and see everyone changing, I realize that I didn’t bring a change of clothes. I go find the P.E. teacher and explain my situation. She introduces herself to me as Coach Brooks. Then, she leads me into the girl’s locker room and asks if any of the girls have an extra set of clothes. A skinny petite girl with flawless mocha colored skin and a sassy bob haircut comes up and hands me a pair of shorts and a shirt. She smiles at me and tells me her name is Tara. She has a genuine warm smile and big brown eyes with long eyelashes. I read the words on the grey shirt she’s wearing, Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to come. Combined with her hot pink running shorts and glitter nail polish,
I like her immediately and decide I’m going to hang around her for the rest of this hour.
I go and put on the clothes she gave me. Oh no. I’m going to get suspended if I wear this. I go and tell the Coach that the only outfit available to me is inappropriate since Tara is smaller than me, so the top is tight around my breasts, and the shorts are a little too short and tight. She looks up and down at me and says it’ll have to work for now.
We walk out into the gym and Coach Brooks does roll call. She tells us today for class, we’re going out to the field for soccer. Inwardly, I jump up and down. We follow her in a line outside to the field. She has us spread out to do some stretches before we begin playing. As I’m leaning over to touch my toes, I feel eyes on me. When I raise up, I see the boys have come out to the field as well. Great. As if I wasn’t already self-coconscious enough in this outfit. I scan the group and find the eyes that are burning my skin.
Noah.
He’s standing tall with his hand holding the elbow of his other stretched across his chest. Through his loose hanging shirt with the wide openings on the side I can see his defined muscles stretch and bulge. The guy next to him is following his line of sight while speaking. Noah looks agitated. He doesn’t respond. Just swaps arms staring with hard eyes and his mouth in a grim line. He doesn’t acknowledge me staring back at him either. I finish my stretches feeling Noah’s eyes on me the whole time.
Coach divides us into teams. Thank goodness she didn’t leave it for us to pick teams. I recognize two or three girls from my previous classes, and I’m relieved to see Tara is on my team. I wander over toward her and casually stand next to her.
She turns to me. “Do you play soccer?”
“Yeah and no. We didn’t have a school soccer team because we were so small, but I played community soccer and with friends. I play defense.”
Tara nods and announces to the other girls on our team that I’ll play center defender. As we get in our positions on the field, I see the guys head over to the track and start off on a slow jog. I ignore them once our game begins. I’m in the zone now.
It’s clear that a few of the girls play on the soccer team because they’re running circles around the other girls. Tara is one of them, and it turns out we work well together. She plays forward and is an aggressive player. She’s also a great team player and good at communicating, and although you can tell she’s skilled and likes to be the one to score the goal, she still passes the ball. I see a girl charging my way toward the goal, and I don’t hesitate to cut her off. I run up and tackle the ball away. I dribble the ball up to the halfway line and pass it to Tara, who takes it all the way to the goal. She gives the ball a hard kick towards the upper right corner of the opposing team’s goal, and it barely clears the goalkeeper’s glove. Tara runs back, and we high five. The rest of the game goes about the same way. When the score is 5-2, Coach yells for us to head back to the locker room.
Tara walks up to me with her hands on her hips. Breathing heavy she says, “Good game! Have you considered joining the team?”
Before I can answer, we meet Coach at the door. “Randall! Good job out there. The season has already started, but if you want to play, we’d love to have you on the team.”
I look back at Tara who is grinning and nodding enthusiastically.
“Yeah! I’d really like to join if I can.”
Coach laughs. “Fantastic! Practice is tomorrow immediately after school. Our first game is next Saturday. See you girls tomorrow. Go get cleaned up; the bell rings in fifteen minutes.”
Oh my gosh. I just made the soccer team! I can’t wait to tell…My heart drops a little because I was thinking of her. I swallow the lump in my throat. I force a smile on my face and continue walking with Tara.
We enter the gym and hear the echo of deep laughter. The boys are also coming in from the other doorway on the opposite side. I get a little nervous because I know we’re going to pass them to get to our locker room. I debate on how I should act. Do I wave at Noah? Do I give a nonchalant smile? Do I show my excitement and call out, “NOAH!? I just made the soccer team! Quick, call your mom now!” I don’t know how to act. I’m kind of on a high right now from being asked to play on my first team sport. Since I got here, this is the first time I’ve felt a sense of belonging. The guys are noisy and rowdy with some pushing each other, smacking each other, all laughing and sweaty while entering the locker room. I’m trying to casually scan the crowd without it being obvious. Tara begins talking to me about the team, and now I’m having trouble dividing my attention.
“Our biggest rivals are next weekend. I wonder if Coach will have you play that game or not. It’s a big game. Would you be able to handle that?”
We stop walking and I turn my full attention to her. “I’m always nervous before any game. But…” I shrug, “once it starts, I block everything out, and I get my head in the zone.”
Tara has a look of understanding, but then, her eyebrows raise and her attention is focused on something behind me. I turn around to find Noah standing behind me with Jeff and Keaton. Up close I see more clearly the muscles through Noah’s thin, white shirt that has the arms cut off, leaving the sides open all the way to the bottom hem and blue basketball shorts. My mind short circuits a little at how in shape he is. How did that lanky eight-year-old turn into a fitness model? And he’s sweaty. But surprisingly I’m not grossed out. He wears it well.
Wait.
Did I just think he wears sweat well? And this is Noah! NO-AH! As in the guy I used to believe was my cousin.
He crosses his arms and cocks his head. “So, you’re somewhat of a professional soccer player?”
Instead of answering, I keep staring. My brain can’t form words. Tara smiles and speaks on my behalf. “Hey, Noah. Yeah, what a surprise, huh? She just came out and kicked butt, didn’t warn any of us how good she is.” She looks back and forth between us.
I stutter. “I—I mean. I told you I played.”
Tara laughs. “Community team, yeah right? You didn’t say anything about pro.”
I roll my eyes with embarrassment. I don’t like all this attention. “I’m not pro,” I mumble lamely.
Noah doesn’t take his eyes off me while he says, “I’ll see you guys in the locker room.”
Jeff and Keaton take the hint and scurry off. Tara hasn’t moved yet, so Noah turns his gaze to her and stares. Her mouth forms an O and her eyes go wide. “Oh, um, yeah, I guess I’ll catch you two later. If I don’t see you before the period is over, how about you just bring my clothes back tomorrow? Or you can give them to me at soccer practice. Whatever. It’s whatever.” Noah clears his throat, and Tara smiles sheepishly and heads back to the locker room. She keeps sneaking peeks over her shoulder the whole way.
Once we’re alone in the gym, I get a little nervous so I start shifting my weight from one foot to the other and swinging my arms back and forth, lightly clapping my hands and snapping my fingers. I probably look as awkward as I feel. “So…how was gym?” I ask.
“A little distracting.” He makes a point of looking me up and down. “A lot of the guys definitely took notice of you, and I had to bite my tongue more than once. What’re you wearing?”
I scoff, “Me? I didn’t know I had gym today, so I had to borrow clothes. This ensemble is not my fault. What’s your excuse? Is that even considered a shirt? Or did I miss the memo that togas are making a comeback?”
He chuckles at my lame joke and then says, “Okay, well we should both go put on some decent clothes then, huh? It’s almost time for lunch, so you better hurry if you’re going to shower. I’ll meet you back here and walk you to lunch.”
We go to our separate locker rooms. Most of the girls are finished in the shower and getting dressed. They all tell me great job and some are excited that I’ll be on the team with them.
Tara corners me on my way to the shower. “Did you know Noah before coming here? How do you know him?”
I laugh at her head-on approach. She has so muc
h excitement bouncing in her eyes that I wonder what Noah means to her. Since it isn’t common knowledge that I knew Noah before coming here, I decide to be vague. “Um, I share first hour with him. I accidently took his seat.”
Her eyes grow big. “Then what happened?”
I look around to make sure nobody is paying us any attention, “Well,” I lean toward her and whisper, “he let me sit..in..his..seat. Can you believe it? Then…He took the seat next to me.” I’m being a total smartass, but I can’t help myself.
Tara ignores the sarcasm and gasps. “He gave you his spot?”
I narrow my eyes at her and shake my head in disbelief at how ridiculous she’s acting. “That’s the polite thing to do, isn’t it? What kind of guy is Noah around here? What’s with all these questions?”
Tara grins. “Noah Wallace is…” she literally sighs, “Noah’s hot. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s freaking hot. I’ve had a crush on him since middle school, like most girls, I’m sure.” I roll my eyes and begin continuing toward the shower with her following me. “He’s kind of a mystery, too. For him to be so popular, nobody knows much about him personally.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You’ve seemed to grab his attention, though.”
I shrug. “I don’t know about that. Um, I need to take my shower…Could we continue this conversation later?” Or never.
She keeps staring at me and then finally decides, “Maybe because you’re new.”
She wanders off, and I finally begin to undress. I know I’m short on time, so I take the fastest shower I’ve ever taken in my life. I’m drying off when I realize that I left my clothes in the locker room. I throw my hair up in a messy wet bun, wrap the towel around myself, and walk over to my locker.
I grab my clothes and almost drop my towel when I hear a low voice calling my name, my other name. “Olivia? Shit. Or…Sarah?”
The towel is sliding when Noah steps in looking around. He stops short and stares at me with wide eyes. The stupid towel keeps slipping while I try to keep a grip on it and on my clothes. Most of my thigh is visible and I’m showing a lot of cleavage and about to have one full boob pop out.
