Norah and The Nerd: Best Friends Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 4)

by Anna Catherine Field

  His reaction is panicked. “I don’t know. That seems a little much, right?”

  “It’s a tradition and everyone goes—most people ask a date. I don’t think it would be out of line.”

  He considers it for a minute. “I’ll go if you go.”

  I pause, trying not to panic. Norah and I haven’t discussed it yet, but I know telling Ben about our new relationship isn’t something either of us want to do. I also know that Ben is probably serious and will only go if one of us goes with him.

  “You could take Monica,” he says. “She’s cute.”

  “I could.” I mess with my straw. “Norah and I have kind of agreed to go to some of the school things together this year. Like the bonfire. It’s the only way I could get her to go.”

  “Oh,” he says, nodding, “then how about that. We could just go together. That way, Delaney will have a friend there anyway.”

  “Like a double date?” Tossing it out there.

  He chokes on his shake. “You on a date with Norah? Isn’t that like incest or something?”

  “We’re not actually related.” He shakes his head in disgust but I can’t help but think that maybe by the time the festival rolls around, we’ll be ready to tell him.

  Or, that’s what I plan to suggest to Norah later that night. I climb the ladder and shimmy over the tree branch once it’s safe to sneak in. There’s an immediate difference when I cross the window sill than any other time I’ve done this. Norah stands awkwardly in the middle of the room in a black, fitted, Photobooth Society T-Shirt. I walk over and she holds out her hand—not quite touching me.

  “Wait,” she’d said. “Let’s talk first, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  We sit like we normally do, my back pressed against her bed. Hers against the wall. She runs her hands over the soft rug underneath us. Our toes touch and it feels like a live wire running through my body.

  “How was Ben?” she asks.

  “Good. He mentioned asking Delaney to the fall festival.”

  Her face lights up. “Really? I had no idea he liked her.”

  “Me either. Do you think she’ll say yes if he gets up the nerve to actually ask her?”

  She considers it. “Maybe. I’ll talk to her.”

  I reach for her foot, covered in a yellow and black striped sock, and pull it into my lap. “He wants us to go with him.”

  “Did you tell him anything?” There’s panic in her tone.

  “No, just that we’d already agreed to go to school activities together. That’s public knowledge.” She relaxes and I rub the arch of her foot with my thumb. “I figured, by then maybe we’d be ready to tell him anyway.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I think he’ll freak. You know he doesn’t like change.”

  This is true. He likes it to be just the three of us—even to the point of not wanting Olivia or Sidney around. If Norah and I are in a romantic relationship, he’ll definitely feel left out.

  “Let’s play it by ear, okay?”

  I nod. “That’s fine with me, but are you going to be able to handle that?”

  That’s the big question. Norah isn’t big on deceit and she’s always been a really good friend to Ben. Keeping something like this from him may be hard on her.

  “I think I can.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, I think it’s worth giving this a shot without so much pressure.”

  “Like our parents?”

  “Yeah, no way we’re telling our parents. Every ounce of independence and freedom we’ve earned will be stripped away in a heartbeat.”

  I grimace. That’s definitely true. I think our mothers would be happy to learn we’re together, but Norah’s right. Everything would change. They’d start watching us a lot closer.

  “So for now, we keep this to ourselves,” I say.

  “Yep.”

  “Which means we’re kind of in a secret relationship.”

  “I guess so.”

  I loop my hands behind her legs and pull her close. “That’s kind of hot.”

  She laughs and it sounds like music. We kiss and it feels like bliss.

  My best friend and my girlfriend rolled up in one?

  I think I may actually be in heaven.

  15

  Norah

  “I can’t believe they put me in charge of the Festival invites this year,” Delaney complains the next day at my locker. “Tyler said he’d help and I know it’s the biggest fundraiser the drama department has in the fall, but it’s just so lame.”

  “Is it lame because you think it’s lame, or is it lame because you’re afraid no one is going to send you an invite?” I ask.

  She sticks out her tongue, confirming I’ve hit a nerve.

  The fall festival is a big deal in the community. People come from all over and at some point, it became a school event as well. There are food trucks, artist booths, and a surf competition. It’s a huge day for the retail stores and a big concert at night. Several years before we got to Ocean Grove, someone in the drama department created a fundraiser where people can buy invitations to give out during school to the person they want to go with. Each invite is only five dollars.

  The humiliation? Priceless.

  “I’m sure you’ll get an invite,” I tell her. “I’m also sure you’ll do a great job on the fundraiser. Just think, it will look great on your college applications.”

  We laugh, because that’s what people say junior and senior year to make any kind of chore or volunteer work seem appealing.

  A sheath of papers slides out of my locker, spilling all over the floor. “Great,” I mutter, handing Delaney my binder and dropping to my feet. My locker is notoriously messy, stacked high with books and papers and old gym clothes. I figure one day I’ll get it cleaned out, or at least that’s what I tell myself.

  Unfortunately, I should have known my laziness would catch up to me. As I grab for the papers a set of large, tanned hands starts to help. “You know you really should clean that out more often, Saddler.”

  “I don’t need your help, Trevor,” I say, swatting his hands away.

  “Too bad,” he replies, moving quickly and gathering the papers. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something anyway.”

  I snatch the papers from him and glare at him. We’re both on our knees. “What?”

  A strange flicker of doubt crosses his eyes but it’s soon replaced by his cocky, self-assured grin. “Any chance you want to go to the Fall Festival with me?”

  I blink and feel a combination of complete humiliation and anger. I open my mouth to tell him to go blank himself, but a warm hand grips around my upper arm and tugs me upward.

  I stand, looking over and seeing Gabe’s handsome and slightly annoyed face. “Sorry, Trev, but Norah and I are going to the festival together.”

  Trevor stands, brushing his hands off, and looks between the two of us. “You two are dating now?”

  Delaney, still holding my binder, gapes at the two of us, waiting for an answer. And then as if the fates are testing me and Gabe for keeping secrets from our friends, Ben walks up, glancing quickly at Delaney, and asks, “Who’s dating now?”

  “Trevor asked Norah if she and Gabe were dating,” Delaney says, catching him up.

  “Wait, what?” Ben asks, a deep line crossing his forehead.

  “No one.” I tell him. All of them, as firmly as possible. “No one is dating.” I look at Delaney and Ben. “We told you that we’re doing senior stuff together.”

  Trevor still watches us carefully before saying, “Well if something comes up, let me know,” and walks off.

  I shove the mess of papers into my locker and slam it shut, then lean against it. I look at Gabe. “Thanks for the save.”

  “Any time.”

  “So, you guys are going together and I’m sure Tyler will ask Jacob,” Delaney says. “Maybe I should get Trevor to go with me.”

  “Or,” Gabe says slowly, glancing
over at Ben. “Maybe you and Ben could go together.”

  Ben, who looks like he’s standing in a pile of fire ants, shifts uncomfortably and makes a face. “Delaney doesn’t want to do that.” He peeks through his blond fringe. “Right?”

  She assesses him for a minute, then replies, “Send me an invitation and we’ll find out.”

  She walks off and Ben shrugs, heading off to this class.

  Gabe and I hold back for a second. We lean against the lockers—a safe space apart—but still in our own orbit.

  “You know it’s going to make me crazy if Trevor keeps flirting with you and I can’t do anything about it.”

  “Ignore him. I do.”

  He clenches his jaw, eyes flicking from my eyes to my mouth, a sure tell that he wants to kiss me. I swallow back my own desire, thinking how it would be so much easier if this was all out in the open.

  Easier but disastrous.

  The bell rings.

  “See you at lunch?”

  “Yeah.” I blink. “We should probably go over a few things for the website.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Bye.”

  I walk down the hall, the opposite way from where he’s going, and I’m well-aware of the way my heart is beating in anticipation of being alone with him again.

  “We’re meeting the Foster’s and Rowland’s for dinner tonight.”

  “Excuse me, what?” I blurt, forgetting my manners, my brain and everything else for a hot minute.

  My mother looks up from her laptop. “Dinner. Mexican.”

  “The restaurant that time forgot?” My brain is still not working on all cylinders. Hanging out with all our families together is something we’ve desperately tried to avoid.

  “I don’t know what that means,” she says, “but go upstairs and change. We’re meeting them in twenty-minutes.”

  I change quickly and intentionally, finding myself putting on something a little nicer than normal. Nothing major, but I do swipe on some mascara and lip gloss.

  I grab my sweater and Olivia stops me in the hallway, eyes narrowed. “Are you wearing makeup?”

  “I always wear makeup,” I say, pushing past her.

  “Hmmm…” she says, following me down the stairs. “You’re being weird.”

  “Ready,” I call to my mom. She and my dad are both in the kitchen. “Are we driving together?”

  I don’t want to be alone with Olivia. She’s too clever for her own good. Or for my good? Either way I walk out the door and slide in the backseat of my dad’s car.

  The Restaurant that Time Forgot is really called Los Lorros and is just out of town. It’s right on the beach with an amazing view of the ocean. It’s mostly frequented by locals, tourists totally miss it because it looks closed and when you do go inside the furnishing and décor are old and dated. There’s beach access from the patio which made the restaurant appealing to our parents when we were young. They could hang out while we ran around the sand. Oh, and the food is amazing.

  Everyone is there when we arrive, and I have butterflies in my stomach. It’s the first time we’re all together since Gabe and I started dating. Is it dating? We haven’t been on a date. We do kiss a lot. Maybe since Gabe and I started kissing is a better identifier. Yeah. I’m nervous.

  We find them on the patio, two tables pushed together. The adults sit on one side, the kids the other. Sidney has his phone out, fingers darting around. He’s playing a game. Ben leans over his shoulder watching and Olivia moves to sit next to Sidney. That leaves me and Gabe across from one another.

  I pass the adults and Bonnie grabs my hand, “You look nice, tonight, Norah.”

  Do I normally put in so little effort that it’s that noticeable? I’m reconsidering the clothes and makeup until I sit down. I catch Gabe’s eye and he smiles, brushing his knees against mine underneath the table. Okay, it was worth it.

  For once he’s not wearing a cap and his curly hair blows in the breeze. His eyes are bright in the afternoon light and the butterflies turn to something overwhelming. I pick up my menu and pretend I need to look at it. It really just kind of hurts to look at him.

  Everything about the dinner is the same as every other night like this. The restaurant, the bad music, the amazing salsa, Ben and the kids fighting over a game, our parents drinking too many margaritas and the sun setting on the Pacific. I order two tamales and Ben eats one of them. Gabe gets the nachos and I take the sour cream.

  Everything is the same except one thing; me and Gabe, but even that isn’t noticeable. It happens under the table, when his fingers graze against my knee or he taps my foot on purpose. The way I feel is different; charged and energized, like my hands and fingers and heart may explode if I can’t touch him soon.

  “Excuse me,” Gabe says, after he’s finished. He squeezes my knee and stands. A giant, empty, red glass of soda sits next to his plate.

  “Nor, pass me the rest of that cheese dip,” Ben says, bumping me with his shoulder. I scoot it over.

  “What’s the call,” Sidney says. “I’m going with ten minutes.”

  “Too long,” Olivia replies. “Six.”

  “Fourteen,” Ben adds, licking cheese dip off his fingers.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “How long Gabe will be in the “bathroom.”” He uses air quotes around the word. “Or your know, messing around on his phone. We’ve started placing bets.”

  I snort. Gabe does have a way of vanishing during meals.

  They go back to their game and a text pops up. I glance at it under the table.

  G: Escape?

  I sit for a moment longer before standing up and leaving the table. No one notices as I walk to the little gate that leads from the deck down to a small boardwalk that goes to the beach. I don’t know if it’s my spidey-senses or Gabe Radar but I don’t think he’s in the bathroom. At the bottom of the stairs I head down the familiar path to a stretch surrounded in shrubs. Sure enough, he’s leaning against the weathered railing. His arms reach out for me and pull me close. He smells and feels so good.

  “They’re timing you, you know.”

  “Timing what?”

  “How long you spend in the bathroom.”

  “What?” He laughs. “That’s stupid.”

  “You’re predictable.” I wrap my arms around his waist.

  He kisses me suddenly, leaving me breathless and with a hammering heart.

  “Do you think they predicted that?”

  I shake my head, overwhelmed by emotion and the tiny pin-pricks where he touches my skin.

  “Olivia took low. Ben high.”

  He tilts his head and studies me. “What about you?”

  “I have inside information. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  This time I kiss him, our lips warm as the daylight fades. I don’t know if it’s the fact our family is just upstairs, oblivious, but everything clicks up a notch. The intensity of our kisses. The push and pull of our bodies to one another. I thread my fingers through his hair and it escalates, until I’m scraping my teeth down his neck.

  As fast as it starts he pulls away, holding me at arms-length.

  I breathe heavy, feeling the swell of emotions about to roll over me like a wave.

  “I should go back.”

  I nod. “Go first.”

  He takes my hand, kisses my knuckles and vanishes up the stairs. I stare out at the ocean, willing my pulse to subside and the heat to leave my cheeks. I wonder if my lips are red and if anyone will notice, because even though I’m desperate for there not to be change, even in this place, the one That Time Forgot, everything is different.

  Especially me.

  I never thought I’d be that girl.

  The one that creates opportunities to be alone with my secret boyfriend.

  That takes any and every chance to find an empty corner. A way to touch his skin and hair, to smell his shirt. Or really, just gaze at him adoringly.

  This new girl scares me.

 
I don’t recognize her. I’m not even sure I recognize Gabe. He’s not the same. He’s more attentive. Sweeter. Kinder. Which is weird. Why didn’t he make that effort before?

  I double down on my efforts. I try desperately to cling to the way things were. Our routines. Candy and shared lunches. Pizza after school. Work for the both of us. I draw lines. Boundaries. I swear I won’t break them, because I don’t want things to change. I just want them to be different. Better, but the same.

  Which is how we end up in Ben’s basement playing video games on Friday night. Well, I’m not playing. I’m watching them play, as is our tradition.

  This is something we’ve done for years. The three of us sprawled on the leather sectional, junk food on the coffee table with a wide assortment of drinks. The boys smack-talked their way through the game, while I worked on a couple ChattySnap posts and engaged with fans.

  Rumors are spreading about a potential Photobooth Society deal, and every day there’s a new article speculating what’s going to happen. It’s my job to capitalize on that interest.

  Ben’s mom knows about my love for candy and isn’t in agreement with my mother’s no-sweets policy. I lean back on the arm of the couch, knees bent, eating my way through a bag of fruit chews.

  “People are still mad about that photo I posted of the two of us,” I say, reading through the hate comments. Some people think it’s cute Gabe’s best friend is a girl. Others? They see me as some kind of competition. If they only knew.

  “Those are not the kind of fans I want,” he replies, grimacing as he jerks his controller around.

  “Ah, so you admit you do have fans.”

  “I meant readers.” He jams his thumb down a dozen times and Ben wails across the room. “Sorry, sucker.”

  On the screen, one of the character’s heads falls to the ground.

  From Ben’s reaction, I have to assume he’s the loser.

  “Thanks a lot, bro,” he says, tossing his controller. He stands and grabs a bag of chips. I’m still scrolling through comments when Ben plops down next to me and leans against my legs.

  “Dude, what are you doing?”

  “I don’t know,” he says, but this is pretty common for us. Ben is a giant puppy dog. A couple times a night, he and Gabe will break into some kind of wrestling match on the floor. At least once a night they’ll drag me into it. So far tonight, they’ve left me alone. “Do I really have to make one of those invitations for Delaney?”