I look at Noah. He stares at me with an odd half-smile lingering on his lips. I stare back. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes at him, then look back at the camera. “Is it just me, or is he giving me a weird look?”
“It’s just you,” Noah says. “And the fact that your version of the story sucks.”
“Hey, my version definitely does not—”
“And that’s all we have time for today,” Noah says loudly, reaching over me for the remote and pinning me down so I can’t take it away from him. I fight to get him off me, but I don’t put a great deal of effort into it because he’s half on top of me, and—let’s be honest—why would I want that to stop? “And I won’t be replying to comments over the next few days,” Noah adds, still speaking to the camera, “as I’ll be away working on a Habitat for Humanity project. Andi has all the time in the world to reply to you, though. Harass her if she doesn’t. See you on the other side!” He ends the recording and rolls away from me. “Sorry,” he says, laughing. “I didn’t mean to squash you.”
I almost reach out and pull him back. I could still do it. He’s right there. I could tug him down and kiss him, and maybe—just maybe—he’d kiss me back.
“Andi?”
“Mmm? Yeah?”
“I think you zoned out for a second.”
“Oh. Um. The Habitat for Humanity project. Remind me how long you’re away for?”
“Four nights.” Noah climbs off the bed, pulls off his jacket—doesn’t he ever get cold?—and removes the memory card from the camera. “It’s further away than some of the other projects I’ve been involved in, so we’re gonna stay over there instead of driving back each day.”
“Oh, okay.” Four days without seeing Noah. Is it going to be as excruciating as I imagine it will?
“I have an idea,” he says. He returns to the bed and leans over me. He lowers his voice and says, “I dare you to upload this video without looking at it.”
I remind myself to breathe—because apparently my body has forgotten how to do that on its own—and say, “Um, why?”
He shrugs. “Because I dared you to.”
“But what if there’s something that needs to be cut out? A pause that’s too long, or a moment where I rambled too much.”
“It’ll be fine. You don’t need to cut anything.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do I get the feeling you did something I don’t know about?”
He smiles. “Do you trust me?”
Is he speaking about the video now, or something else? Perhaps I’m reading more into it than I should, but his words make me think of all the shouting Damien and I did about lies and deception and faking, and I know that Noah isn’t like that. “Yes,” I whisper.
“Okay.” He stands up and reaches for my hand. “Then you can upload it without taking all that time to check and tweak the whole thing.”
I take his hand and let him pull me up. I want to hold onto him, but his hand is gone the moment I’m standing. “But I still need to add the intro video and the end bit.”
“Sure, okay, but you can do that without looking through the whole of the middle section, can’t you?”
“I suppose.” I take the memory card from him and sit at my desk. I plug it in, copy the video across, and open it in the relevant software. “Oh, you can turn the light off now that we’re done recording,” I say to Noah. The harsh light disappears a moment later, and we’re left with the warm glow of fairy lights and the lamp on my desk.
I quickly add the standard extra bits of video to the beginning and end of our book review while Noah tidies up my bed. I’m tempted to drag the cursor quickly across the video to see if he did something I wasn’t aware of, but I’m pretty sure he’s paying attention to every click I make right now, despite his cushion-rearranging act.
“Hey, have you spoken to Damien lately?” I ask. “I was wondering how he feels about you and me hanging out a lot. He should be okay with it, right, considering he has a new girlfriend?”
“I don’t actually know,” Noah says. “He shies away from conflict and confrontation—”
“Except for that one gigantic fight.”
“Except for that, which he didn’t initiate, so I don’t know how he feels about you and me hanging out.”
I swivel my chair so I’m facing Noah. “You know, I never noticed that before about him avoiding conflict and confrontation, but you’re right. That must be why he and I never fought. If I happened to disagree with him about something, he’d simply change the subject. Do you think that’s why he ends every relationship when it hits a bump? He’d rather move on than deal with whatever the problem is?”
“Maybe,” Noah says. “But he’s never spoken to me much about his relationships, so I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” I turn back to my desk. “Okay, this is done. I’ll upload it now.”
“Great.” He leans his hip against the desk. “See how fast it goes when you don’t have to check every frame of the video? I just created more reading time for you. You can thank me later.”
“Uh huh.” I smile as I click my way around YouTube. “I’ll wait to see if you’ve done anything embarrassing on this video. If not, then I’ll thank you for all the extra reading time.”
“Deal. Oh, are these the new bracelets you told me about?”
“Hmm?” I finish filling in all the video details, then push the laptop out of the way so the video can finish uploading on its own. “Yes.” I wheel my chair back and stand. I lean past Noah—is my excuse to brush against his arm as obvious as I think it is?—and pull the container of bracelets closer. “Paper beads. Strips cut from the pages of books, rolled up and varnished. I made a whole lot this afternoon.”
“Did you make one for yourself?”
“Oh, well, not specifically, but any one of them could be mine.”
“How about this one?” Noah says, removing a bracelet from the pile. “I see the name Darcy on it, which means it’ll go perfectly with your I ♥ Mr Darcy badge. A badge you’ll have to stop wearing when you eventually get a boyfriend.”
“Oh,” I say with a smile, “do you think my boyfriend will have a problem with my love of Pride and Prejudice?”
“No, of course not.” Noah reaches for my right arm and slowly lifts it. My traitorous heart speeds up immediately and my lungs forget to breathe again. “He may have a problem with your love of Mr Darcy, though.” He pushes my sleeve back, almost to my elbow, and slips the bracelet over my hand and onto my wrist.
Holy smoking sexiness … I go from not breathing to breathing way too fast.
Instead of releasing my hand, he slides his fingers between mine. A shiver runs up my arm and across my neck. Blood pumps loudly in my ears, and I’m too scared to look up and find his eyes. I love the way his skin looks next to mine. Deeply tanned against palest white.
I dare to let my gaze slide slowly up his chest, over the words She is not my girlfriend, stopping at the tattoo peeking out below the T-shirt sleeve on his right arm. I lift my free hand and trace an almost-trembling finger over the outline of the bird. I hear him breathe in—sharper than normal—and it gives me the courage to look up.
His gaze is uncertain, questioning, and his lips—those beautiful, full lips I’ve dreamed of kissing—are parted. He tilts his head forwards and down. I lean closer to him, my fingers tightening around his. My eyes close as another shiver spreads from my neck down my spine and across my arms. His lips touch mine—
“Andi?” Knock, knock, knock. “Andi, are you there?”
Startled, I step back, bumping my chair, which hits the desk.
“Who—” Noah says, but I hastily place two fingers over his lips. I stare unblinking into his eyes, silently willing Carmen to leave. Noah’s burning gaze never leaves mine. I can feel his breath against my hand, his soft lips against my fingers.
“Andi, please …” Carmen says. Her voice is so much quieter than usual. Quieter and distres
sed.
I drop my hand and hurry across the room. Unlocking and pulling open the door, I say, “Carmen? What’s wrong?”
“It’s …” She closes her eyes and tears run down her cheeks. “My mom just called us. Grandpa … passed away just now.”
I pull her towards me and hug her. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Over her shoulder, I see her cousin Tania sitting at the top of the stairs, her head on her arms.
“It’s just … I know he was old and it was obviously his time to go,” Carmen says tearfully into my ear, “but it’s still really sad because he was such a big part of our lives. He’s been there for everything. Now he’ll never see me graduate or get married or … any of that.”
I hear Noah’s footsteps behind me. “I’m really sorry, Carmen,” he says quietly, reaching over me and patting her shoulder.
Tania looks up. Her eyebrows pull together sharply. “Ferry?” She jumps to her feet. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Carmen pulls out of my embrace and backs away from me, her eyes on Noah. “You’re Noah Ferreira?” she demands. Her face morphs from shock to anger. “I knew you looked familiar.”
“Tania, I’m sorry,” Noah says, slowly walking past me onto the landing. “I didn’t know Carmen was your cousin. I’m not here to upset you, and I’m really sorry about your grandfather—”
“Moenie waag om oor my oupa te praat nie,” Tania yells. “Jy het sy kleinseun van hom af weggeneem. Jy’t sy hart gebreek nes jy myne gebreek het en almal in ons familie s’n.”
“Tania,” Noah says, raising his hands slightly, “dit was ’n ongeluk.”
“Nee!” She rushes at him and starts beating her fists against his chest. “Dit was jou skuld en ek haat jou. Ek haat jou want jy het hom van ons af weggeneem!”
Carmen pulls Tania away from Noah and wraps her arms around her. “Get the hell out of here,” she growls at Noah.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, then walks past them, his head down, towards the stairs.
“Noah?” I call after him, but he refuses to look back at me. He hurries down the stairs, his footsteps growing quieter as Tania’s sobs grow louder. “What just happened?” I ask.
“That was him,” Carmen says, her eyes red and glassy with unshed tears. “The one who was in the car accident with Tyrone. He got Tyrone drunk and let him drive. Then they crashed and Tyrone didn’t make it. Noah’s the reason Tyrone is dead.”
It’s late when I walk out of Fuller with a blanket wrapped around me. Tania’s friend came to fetch her and drive her home, and Carmen gave me another speech about what an awful person Noah Ferreira is. Then I went to bed with all that information buzzing around my head, even though I knew the chance of finding sleep would be slim.
So I make my way to mem stone, the place I always go to when I need to think. As I approach it, I stare at the letters on the side of the stone. IN MEMORIAM, 1914 - 1918, 1939 - 1945. I’ve seen the words before, of course, but I’ve never thought about them. Never thought about what this stone actually represents. I’ve walked past it hundreds of times, sat on it many nights while contemplating my trivial life problems, but I’ve never realised that this is a memorial to the people who died in world wars.
I climb carefully on top of it, as if I need to be more reverent now that I know its real meaning. I run my hand gently over the cold stone top. I suppose it’s fitting to be here on a night when all I can think about are people who’ve died. Carmen’s grandfather and Noah’s friend. Was it really Noah’s fault that he died? Or is there more to the story?
“Andi.” I look over my shoulder and see Noah walking towards me in tracksuit pants and a hoodie. “Thanks for your message.”
I look forwards as he raises himself onto the stone beside me. We sit in silence while I wait for him to talk. He knows that’s why we’re here. It’s his chance to explain his side of events.
“I was a different person back then,” he says eventually. “I was just like Damien at school. Hard-working, responsible, earned myself a bursary. Then I got here and it felt like I was finally free of all the pressure. Like I could finally relax and enjoy life instead of just study, study, study. Life was great. Tyrone had been my best friend since we started high school, and Tania, his sister, had been my girlfriend almost as long. I thought I’d marry her one day.
“We partied a lot, Tyrone and I. We drank a lot. We experimented with … just about everything. Tyrone managed to keep most of it secret from his family, but Tania knew. She kept telling me to stop being a bad influence on her brother. I don’t think she realised it was Tyrone who always found the next party. Tyrone who always said, ‘Let’s just have one more.’
“The night of the accident, Tyrone was driving my car. We’d both had too much to drink, but I was way worse, so he took the keys from me. I was too out of it to remember much, but I was told afterwards that it was a red light, and Tyrone didn’t stop, and a truck hit the driver’s side of the car.
“I woke up in the hospital a day later to the news that my best friend was dead. Tania came in after my family left and told me if I ever went near her family again, she’d kill me.” Noah rubs a hand over his face and takes a deep breath. “I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since that night. I stopped going to places where I knew I’d be tempted to drink. My friendships with those who enjoyed the party life soon fell away, but my friends who’d never been big into the party scene—friends like Damien and Yashen—stuck around. I managed to scrape through my exams at the end of that first semester, and after that, things got easier. I worked harder, I got involved in social development projects, and I honoured Tania’s request to never go near her or her family again.
“I still think of Tyrone, of course. I think of how different life might be if that night had never happened. I think of everything I could have done to prevent the accident. But … those kinds of thoughts are torture. I try to stay away from them.
“So.” He pushes his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “That’s what happened. That’s why Tania and Carmen hate me.”
We sit for a while in silence as my mind runs over everything he said. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” I ask eventually.
“Well … partly because you made it clear that you think private lives should remain private, so—”
“Wait, I said that in a moment of extreme anger. You know I don’t feel that way anymore, so don’t make it my fault that you didn’t say anything.”
“And the other part,” Noah continues, “is that … I didn’t want it to change the way you see me. I’ve let so many people down. All the things I’ve done wrong … they’re always following me around like shadows I can never get rid of. I’ve changed, and no one speaks about the person I used to be, but everyone knows. Everyone remembers. Everyone except you. You could see me simply for who I am now and not for who I used to be.”
I lean forwards and place my head in my hands, not knowing how to respond to him. Does my opinion of him matter so much that he’d keep this from me? Is that the truth? Is any of what he’s told me tonight the truth? “Noah, I … I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through. And this does change how I see you, but not in the way you think. It doesn’t make me think less of you. It makes you … more real to me.”
He breathes out a sigh that sounds relieved. “That’s all I wanted. I just wanted us to be real. I pushed and pushed until eventually you were real with me, and only then did I realise how scared I was to be real with you. I wanted to tell you everything the night I came to see you at your sister’s flat. I wanted to get everything out so we could start afresh. I figured you were already angry with me at that point, so how much worse could I make it? But then … things went well that night, and we were laughing and getting along, and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin that.
“And then tonight, after the video, I was planning to bring it up, but then … I let myself get distracted. And then Tania was there and it came out anyway, but it was so much worse than if I’d tol
d you myself. As if God were saying, ‘Well, I’ve given you enough chances and you haven’t told her, so I’m putting it in someone else’s hands to tell her instead.’ And I couldn’t look at you because I was afraid to see how angry you were.”
“I wasn’t angry. I was … confused.”
Noah looks up. “And are you angry now?”
I look down at my hands. At my fingers that, not many hours ago, were entwined with his. “I don’t know what I am,” I murmur.
Noah looks away from me and out over the city. “Okay.”
“It’s just that earlier tonight, you asked me if I trust you. I said yes, and I meant it. But now I have no idea what else you might be hiding.”
He turns to face me. “This is me, Andi.” He spreads his hands out, palms up. “The real me. The ugly bits and the good bits. There’s nothing left to hide.”
I nod slowly. “Maybe … maybe we just need some time. Because right now I don’t know how to trust you.”
I sleep through my alarm the next morning and wake up ten minutes before my first lecture begins. “Crap,” I mumble, dropping my phone back onto the desk. I lie in bed for another few minutes, listening to the rain outside—don’t think about Noah—then force myself out of bed. I shuffle out to the landing—don’t think about Noah—find a small tub of yoghurt in the fridge Carmen and I share, and sit on the edge of my bed while eating it and staring at the paper heart on my pinboard. Not the one from Damien. I pulled that off and threw it away weeks ago. I’m staring at the one from—
Don’t think about Noah.
But I can’t focus on anything else. He’s there all the time, in every thought that passes through my mind. The coffee shop visits—
The Trouble with Faking Page 16
