by Beth Reekles
I must have thrown up. I remembered someone holding my hair back for me. It must’ve been Lee; he would’ve taken care of me.
But where was I?
I tiptoed over to the door of the bedroom and poked my head out. I practically cried in relief to see I was in Lee and Noah’s house. It must be Noah’s room I crashed in – in all these years I’d never been in his room.
So . . . why was I in Noah’s room? Why not one of the guest rooms? Or Lee’s?
I went back to the bed, my head pounding so hard I didn’t think I could stay on my feet much longer, and looked at the alarm clock. It was only half eight in the morning. In the hopes of sleeping off my hangover, I snuggled back under the covers, breathing in Noah’s smell.
Just as I was about to drift into unconsciousness again, the door opened slowly, making the hinges creak.
My eyes flashed back open immediately, and my eyes met Noah’s. He was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, hung right down low, and his chest and abs were still streaked with droplets of water, his black hair dripping.
My eyebrows shot up. Six-pack. Who’d have thought it?
I couldn’t help but blush at how he made my heart was race just by looking at me.
‘Sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘It’s okay,’ I said, my voice a little croaky. I cleared my throat, but even that noise hurt my head. ‘I just woke up anyway.’
‘Right. Hungover, much?’
I grimaced in response, making Noah chuckle. ‘You have no idea. I didn’t know I’d drunk so much.’
‘You had a load of vodka, I know that,’ he said, sitting on the end of the bed. My heart went wild. Couldn’t he have grabbed a shirt or some jeans before stopping to talk to me?
‘What do you mean? You know that? When did you see me?’
‘When you were about to strip off on the pool table in front of a bunch of the guys and then go skinny dipping,’ he said casually, looking sideways at me with those bright blue eyes.
I wondered if he could hear my heart racing. Probably. I hoped I wasn’t blushing anymore, at least. That would just be peachy.
My jaw dropped when his words sank in. ‘Oh, God. Tell me I didn’t.’
‘No, you didn’t. I had to carry you out.’
I gaped, my cheeks flaming, and covered my face with my hands, looking through my fingers at him. ‘I can’t believe I did that.’
‘Yeah, well . . .’
‘Thanks though. For stopping me. That would’ve been embarrassing this morning.’
‘You don’t say,’ he said sarcastically, but he smiled. ‘You threw up, too. Just FYI.’
‘What, in front of people?’
Oh, God, this just gets worse! I thought, mortified.
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head and flicking water over me. ‘In my bathroom. I was trying to make sure you didn’t make an idiot of yourself or get hurt.’
I groaned, humiliated. ‘Sorry about that. I’m really sorry, Noah, I didn’t mean for you to miss the party or anything . . .’
He shrugged. ‘It’s okay. I didn’t mind.’
I scoffed. ‘Sure. Whatever. I think we both know it wasn’t exactly the highlight of your night having to take care of me.’
‘It wasn’t all that bad,’ he said after a moment, and smiled again. It wasn’t a smirk. It was a real, genuine smile that showed the dimple in his left cheek and made his eyes crease a little at the corners. It was infectious; I had to smile back at him.
‘Well, thanks, Noah.’ I couldn’t help but put a taunting emphasis on his name.
‘Anytime, Shelly.’
He reached over to ruffle my hair, and when I went to push him away I somehow ended up tumbling off the bed and pulling him down with me.
Noah was really heavy. He didn’t have a spare half-pound of fat on him, but he was a hell of a lot of muscle. And he was crushing me.
But I was caught by his bright eyes. He didn’t budge, either – just looked back at me.
Before it turned into too much of a staring match, I found my voice again. ‘Noah . . .’ I breathed.
‘Yeah?’ he said in just as hushed a voice.
‘You’re crushing me.’
He blinked a couple of times, like he was jerking himself back to reality. Then he said, ‘Oh, right. Shit. Sorry.’
He got to his feet, holding the towel around him – I don’t know what I would’ve done if he’d dropped the towel.
No, Elle! Don’t even go down that road! Shut up! Stop thinking!
He offered me a hand and I got to my feet too. The shirt I was wearing reached barely past my butt, so I felt extremely self-conscious.
‘Um, when did I change?’ I asked, plucking at the shirt and looking around. I saw my dress draped over a chair.
‘Oh, I came back up to check on you and you woke up, and then you started to take off your dress because you didn’t want to crease it, you said, so I found you a shirt to wear.’ He shrugged, and scratched the back of his neck briefly.
I blinked, my brain trying sluggishly to catch up. ‘So . . . you saw me . . . in my underwear . . .’ Please say no, please say no, please—
His mouth twitched; he was trying so hard not to smirk. ‘Uh . . .’
‘Oh my God.’ I buried my face in my hands.
‘I averted my eyes, I swear.’
I laughed it off, saying, ‘Don’t worry about it,’ when truthfully, my pulse was roaring in my ears. Mr. Player averting his eyes? Likely story.
‘Lee’s downstairs cooking breakfast if you want any,’ he told me. His words tumbled out, as though he were trying to change the topic.
My stomach decided to growl in answer to him, making us both laugh. ‘Awesome.’
I headed downstairs, closing his bedroom door behind me. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, and sagged against the door.
‘Oh my God,’ I breathed, talking to myself. I thought I was totally over Noah. But after those five minutes – with him in a towel and me in his shirt, and him falling on top of me . . . My heart just wouldn’t calm down!
It was ridiculous. I knew Noah never saw me as anything other than the annoying girl who was his brother’s best friend. To him, I was nothing more than that, I was certain.
But still . . .
I fell backward suddenly, the door behind me disappearing.
Flat on my back, I blinked up at Noah, now wearing a pair of boxer shorts.
I cracked up laughing. ‘You wear Superman boxers!’
He looked down at himself, as though he needed visual confirmation of this. I watched pink blossom over his cheeks, and all I could think was, I made Noah Flynn blush!
He was smirking like he didn’t care, then winked and said, ‘You know you find them irresistible, Shelly.’
Is it that obvious?
‘Oh yeah, right,’ I scoffed. ‘Sure I do.’
I pushed myself to my feet again and pulled the shirt down as far as it would go. Still grinning foolishly at the knowledge I’d made him blush, I headed downstairs to the kitchen.
‘Rochelle, Rochelle, Rochelle,’ Lee sighed when I collapsed onto a seat at the bar table. ‘What am I going to do with you, my stripping, skinny-dipping little friend?’
‘Make me some breakfast?’ I replied hopefully.
He laughed, and turned back to the stove, throwing some more bacon into the pan. ‘The things I do for you.’
Chapter 4
I SPENT MOST of the day playing Mario Kart with Lee.
‘I’m actually pretty surprised Noah took care of me,’ I admitted to Lee.
He laughed. ‘You’re not the only one. I would’ve, if I’d been there. But I got kind of waylaid . . .’
‘Yeah, you told me about Veronica. Was there another girl you kissed, or just the one? You want to watch it – you’ll be turning out like your brother.’
Lee rolled his eyes at me. ‘Says the stripper. We make a fine pai
r.’
‘I was intoxicated.’
‘So was I, a little.’
‘Not Noah, apparently.’
‘I think he must have been, if he was looking after you like that. He’s not usually so . . . so nice.’
I laughed. ‘To put it nicely.’
‘Indeed. Hey, maybe he’s crushing back at you.’
I gave Lee a look. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. And I got over that crush years ago, as you well know.’
Lee wrinkled his nose. ‘That’d be weird anyway.’
‘Whatever.’ I shoved him, making his kart veer off course, and sending Yoshi plummeting over the waterfall while I went into the lead with Luigi.
I got home around five: I had some homework to finish off. I’d made Lee drive me home, since I’d borrowed a pair of his jeans and didn’t want to be seen in public. I made a dash for the door, my best friend laughing at me.
‘Hey!’
‘What?’ I yelled, turning back to him.
He threw my dress over to me, and I caught it just before it fell on the ground. ‘See you in the morning!’
‘Bye, Lee!’
I shut the front door and heard, ‘Rochelle, is that you?’
‘Yeah! Hi, Dad!’
‘Come in the kitchen a sec.’
I sighed, wondering if I was in for a lecture now or not. I dreaded my dad getting angry with me.
He was working on his laptop at the kitchen table, and I heard Brad on the Wii in the lounge.
‘Hey,’ I said, putting on the coffee maker.
‘You can make me a cup too while you’re there,’ he said.
‘Okay.’
‘Good party?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah, it was great.’
‘You didn’t get too drunk? Or do anything too stupid?’ He shot me a stern look over the rim of his glasses: he was talking about boys.
I’m not sure why he bothered. It was hardly confidential that I’d never had a boyfriend or kissed a guy.
‘I, um . . . I wasn’t too bad . . . only a bit drunk.’
Dad sighed and took off his glasses and rubbed his cheek. ‘Rochelle . . . you know what I’ve said about you drinking.’
‘I was fine, honestly. Lee and Noah took care of me anyway.’
‘Noah did?’
Even my dad was surprised enough to forget about the drinking for a moment.
‘Yeah. I thought it was weird too.’
‘Mm . . . Anyway, don’t change the subject, young lady. You know what I’ve said about you drinking.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘Mm. Next time that happens, you’ll be grounded for a month, you hear? And don’t think I won’t find out.’
‘Message received, loud and clear.’
He didn’t look entirely convinced, but let it slide. It wasn’t like I went out drinking every other night; it was a once-in-a-while thing.
‘So have you and Lee come up with an idea for your booth yet? The carnival’s only two weeks away.
‘Yeah. We’re doing a kissing booth.’
‘That’s . . . unusual,’ Dad laughed. ‘Are you sure you’ll be allowed?’
I shrugged, pouring out two mugs of coffee. ‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Well, it’s better than throwing balls at coconuts,’ he said. ‘Anyway, listen, I’m going to need you to watch Brad tomorrow, okay? I’m working late.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ After adding a ton of milk to my coffee, I gulped it down. ‘I’m going to take a shower and do my homework.’
‘Okay. Dinner at seven. We’ve got meatloaf.’
‘Cool.’
I hated Mondays. They sucked. There was not one redeeming feature about Monday mornings. I always set my alarm twenty minutes earlier than I needed to, since I hated getting out of bed.
I finally dragged myself up and grabbed my black pants out of the closet. Our school was built in, like, the early 1900s or something like that, and for some stupid reason they kept the tradition of uniform. It wasn’t the worst uniform in the world, but I wished we didn’t have any.
As if Monday mornings weren’t already bad enough, mine was about to get a hell of a lot worse.
Riiiiiiiip!
I froze, one leg half in the leg of my pants. Hurriedly, I wriggled out of them and inspected the damage. Last week, it had been a teeny tiny hole in the seam on the inside of the right leg. Now, there was a giant tear down the leg.
‘Oh, crap,’ I muttered, throwing them down. I wasn’t much of a seamstress at the best of times, and there was no way Dad would be able to fix them. I’d have to order some new ones online – they should get here by Thursday, I calculated. But until then, it’d have to be my old skirt.
I hated the regulation school skirt. It was pleated, for one thing, and made of this blue and black striped tartan. You had to wear stockings with it. Not tights. Not bare legs. Knee-high stockings. It looked good on some people, and I’d given in and worn it for a while last year before deciding to never touch the thing again.
But I had no choice.
And, worse, it was now a little too short for me.
I sighed again. It’d have to do for now. It’s not like I had any other option. I rummaged through a drawer until I found some of the stockings I’d bought to go with it last year. I grimaced at myself in the mirror before heading down to breakfast.
Brad choked on his cereal when I walked into the kitchen. He laughed so hard he sprayed Cheerios everywhere. ‘What the hell is that supposed to be?’
‘Brad, language,’ Dad scolded him. Then he turned to look at me and raised his eyebrows. ‘Isn’t that a bit . . . inappropriate for school, Elle?’
I huffed, scowling. ‘My trousers are ripped.’
‘How did you manage that?’
‘I forgot to fix the hole in them and . . . I don’t know, they just tore.’
Dad sighed. ‘You’ll have to order some more. I haven’t got time to run you to the mall to get any.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
I’d barely finished my cereal when I heard Lee beeping the horn impatiently outside. I put my bowl in the sink and said goodbye. I bolted to the car, jumping in before anybody could see me in my skirt.
‘You’re in a skirt,’ Lee commented.
‘No shit, Sherlock,’ I muttered. ‘Let’s just go.’
‘What’s got your panties in a twist?’ he teased.
‘My trousers ripped.’
‘I thought you were fixing them?’
‘I forgot.’
‘It looks fine, Shelly, don’t worry. You really should wear skirts more often.’
I swatted at him, and he grinned and turned up the radio. It wasn’t long before we were at school and I told myself to suck it up and, after taking a deep breath, climbed out of the car. We were a little later than usual, and most people had already arrived.
I slammed the car door shut and walked around to sit on the hood with Lee as a bunch of guys wandered over to greet us.
‘Hey, looking good,’ Dixon said, nodding at me with a wink.
I scowled, folding my arms. ‘Shut up.’
‘What?’ he protested innocently. I knew he was only teasing, but I was in no mood for it.
I decided to go talk to some girls instead, spotting Lisa and May from my chemistry class a few cars down. Someone smacked my butt as I walked past, and I whipped round angrily.
It was one of the soccer players, Thomas, smirking at me.
‘Did you just smack my butt?’ I asked, clenching my jaw.
‘Maybe.’
‘Hey, I missed the party on Saturday,’ said his friend Adam. I didn’t know him too well, but from what I’d seen, he was an arrogant jerk. As if to prove it, he added, ‘Do I get a repeat performance?’
A few of the boys laughed and cheered, and Adam started swinging his hips like a girl and pulling his shirt out of his pants like he was going to strip. It would’ve been funny, but I was so angry at him and his smug little face.
; I ground my teeth. ‘Oh, grow up already.’
Adam grabbed my wrist and pulled me back over. He probably thought it was all a joke, but I didn’t. I tore my arm away and glared at him.
‘Hey, back off,’ Lee snapped, stepping closer.
‘Make me,’ Adam shot back, throwing his arms out and daring him.
So I punched him.
Well, I tried to – someone caught my fist before it collided with his jaw.
I wrestled my hand away, but not before a different fist went into Adam’s face. Then they slammed him into the old four-by-four next to us, letting go of me.
I looked around. Of course. It had to be Noah who’d interfered.
‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’
Suddenly there was a huge swarm in the middle of the parking lot, everyone either shouting, ‘Fight! Fight!’ or giving the appropriate ‘Ooh,’ or ‘Ouch, that’s gotta hurt!’ when required. And I was stuck in the eye of the storm, frozen in place, unable to move.
It took a couple of seconds for reality to bring me back to my senses. I ran forward, trying to drag Noah away from Adam, whose lip was split and bleeding. He couldn’t have looked more livid if he’d tried.
‘Noah!’ I yelled repeatedly, but he wasn’t listening. The boys were all yelling and arguing – and now there was a teacher trying to control and assess the situation – but my brain didn’t register any of that.
‘Lee!’ I tried helplessly, tugging on his arm instead. ‘Do something!’
‘What do you think I’m doing?’ he replied sharply. ‘Nobody treats my best friend like that and gets away with it.’
‘Lee . . .’ I sighed, defeated, when he went back to yelling and shoving the mass of guys.
‘Dude, if you like her, that’s fine,’ Thomas scoffed to Noah. ‘But I’m sure there’s plenty to go around.’
He neatly dodged another punch and looked at Noah, daring him to carry on.
But I stood there glaring. ‘What did you say?’
‘You heard me,’ he said with a wink.
I grimaced.
‘That’s it,’ Noah growled.
‘Flynn!’ yelled the teacher, barging through the quickly dispersing crowd.
The other fights all faltered to a stop, and Noah only paused because I stood right in front of him, pushing his chest.
‘What is all this about?’ demanded the teacher – I recognized Vice Principal Pritchett’s voice.
