by Jo Ramsey
Noah opened the fridge. “Come pick out what you want to eat. Your choice. We have plenty, and I don’t think my parents will even notice anything’s missing.”
Another weird comment that I decided not to ask about. I walked up beside him. The fridge contained enough food to feed my family for a month or more. I couldn’t even figure out what some of the stuff was. I squinted to try to read the labels on the unfamiliar things, then realized they weren’t in English and wouldn’t do me any good.
“Take anything you want,” Noah prompted.
I ended up with some ham and cheese that definitely wasn’t anything like the prepackaged stuff Mom usually bought at the grocery store. The cheese was large round slices, and the ham had been sliced so thin you could almost see through it. Noah and I made sandwiches on potato bread with mayonnaise and Dijon mustard that Noah told me actually came from Dijon.
Noah grabbed a couple cans of perfectly normal soda out of the fridge, and we headed upstairs. “I’m not supposed to eat in my room,” he said as we climbed the spiral staircase. “But my mother isn’t here, and hopefully my father won’t catch us. I don’t want to eat where anyone can listen in on what we’re saying.”
“Would your father do that?” My parents had always respected my privacy. I didn’t understand why any parents would spy on their kids.
Suddenly I realized I didn’t know much about Noah at all. For all I knew, he might be a druggy. That would explain why his parents didn’t let him out of their sight.
“My parents are a little overprotective,” he replied as we reached the top of the stairs. “They don’t trust many people, either. I guess it goes along with having money. Some people are just around to try to get something out of us. My parents want to make sure I don’t end up with a ‘friend’ like that.”
“That makes sense.” It didn’t, but Noah seemed to consider it normal. “So where’s your room?”
“Over here.”
He led me to a door kind of like the one I’d entered the house through and nudged it open with his foot.
The room made mine look like a closet. It was nearly as big as the entire basement of my house, and that basement contained my parents’ bedroom, Cece’s room, and the playroom. Noah’s room was something out of a magazine, and not only because of all the wood furniture and the way everything matched. Nothing hung on the walls except a framed print, and the bed was made with the comforter pulled up perfectly symmetrical and a few throw pillows in front of the regular ones. The floor was completely clear of anything except the furniture and one pair of shoes. It looked like no one actually lived there.
Noah kicked the door closed and sat on the bed with his plate and soda. I glanced around, not quite sure where to sit until he nodded toward an overstuffed chair by the window. “That’s comfortable, and you won’t get in as much trouble for dropping crumbs on the chair as I will if I drop them on the bed.”
“Okay.” I sat down with my plate on my lap and set the soda carefully on the arm of the chair. “Nice room.”
“Thanks.” He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “It works when we’re here. I think this is my favorite of all my bedrooms.” He nodded toward the two windows that were set side by side in the wall behind me. “I don’t have a view like that anywhere else.”
The windows were on the cove side of the house. I liked the cove, but I didn’t think it was the greatest view. During low tide, all you could see was mud. At high tide, the cove was nicer, but there wasn’t much to see except water and occasionally birds.
Then again, I didn’t know anything about Noah’s other houses.
“Where else do you live?” I asked, figuring that since he’d let me into his bedroom he might actually answer some of my questions this time.
“A bunch of places.” He set his sandwich back on the plate and counted on his fingers. “Los Angeles. Tours, France. Toronto. Miami. That’s it, other than here, but Dad’s negotiating on a place in Arizona.”
“Five houses?” I stared at him. “Your family owns five houses, and this is the best view you have?”
“All the other ones are in cities,” he said. “I look out my window at other buildings. In LA we’re not far from the ocean, but we only have a view of it from a couple of the upstairs windows. Same in Miami. That’s the most nature I see in any of those places. Here, it’s so quiet and peaceful. This is my favorite place. We just aren’t able to come here as often as we go to the other places because of Dad’s job.”
I almost asked what his father did for work that allowed him to own five houses, two of them in other countries, then decided I didn’t want to know.
“Is it hard moving around so much?” I asked instead.
He shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. Besides, it isn’t like some kids whose families move to a completely new home every year or two. We own all the places we go to, so they’re all familiar.”
“You don’t stay anywhere long.”
“True.” He picked up his sandwich again. “We go around among them depending on what Dad’s working on, mostly. Sometimes it’s where Mom wants to go. I don’t get a vote. If I did, we’d always be here.”
The situation sounded pretty sad to me. Always having to move around and never being able to hang out with other people. Not to mention not having any say at all in where he went.
It didn’t seem to bother him, though.
“So how long have you lived here?” he asked.
Apparently he’d decided it was his turn to ask questions. That was okay with me, since I’d heard more answers out of him in the past few minutes than I had the whole time we’d stood by the cove watching the dolphins.
“Since August,” I said. “My dad’s cousin used to own that cottage. She only used it in the summer and a few other weeks during the year and was tired of paying a caretaker, so she was ready to get rid of the place. My parents wanted to move to the area, so Sandra sold us the cottage.”
“You moved into a familiar place too, then?”
“We’d visited a few times, yeah.” I took a drink of my soda. “That made it easier for Cece, at least. She doesn’t do well when things change.”
“My cousin doesn’t either.” He studied me for a few seconds until I squirmed under his gaze. “What do you think of the school here?”
That wasn’t a question I’d expected, and I had to stop and think to come up with an answer. “It isn’t too bad,” I said finally. “The high school here’s smaller than the one I used to go to, and I know more people.”
“I’ve always wished I could go to a regular school.” He put his plate on the stand next to the bed and lay down on his side. “Or even that my parents would join some kind of homeschool group or something. I know a few kids online who are allowed to do sports and social stuff through their homeschool groups or at the public schools they live near. I don’t even have a chance to meet people my own age most of the time. Not face-to-face, anyway.”
In spite of everything his family had, it sounded like Noah’s life was pretty suckish. I couldn’t imagine not having friends to hang out with. Not that I had many in Wellfleet. Dad had been right about me not spending time with many people since we’d moved. Aside from Mom giving me a hard time if I wasn’t home to help her with Cece, I didn’t feel like I fit in with most of the kids I knew.
I fit with Noah.
I didn’t know what else to say to him, so I ate some of my sandwich. He watched me for a couple minutes. I pretended not to notice, because having someone watch me eat made me even more uncomfortable than I’d already been. Standing with him at the edge of the cove without talking hadn’t been anywhere near as awkward as sitting in his room with him eating ham and cheese sandwiches.
Just when I was starting to wish I’d stayed home, he got off the bed and went over to a cabinet that stood against the wall beside the door, one of those wood things with big doors and drawers underneath. He opened the doors to reveal a large flat-screen TV. �
�Want to watch a movie?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Come see what I have. Guests pick.” He said the last sentence in a snarky tone that made me think his parents had drilled that rule into his head.
He opened the two drawers beneath the TV. Inside was a ton of DVDs, two or three times more than anyone else I’d ever met owned. Noah stood back and watched me look through the titles. “My parents try to make up for me not having friends by making sure I have plenty of other things to do. It doesn’t really work. I hate watching movies by myself.”
“Good thing you aren’t by yourself right now, then.” It was a stupid thing to say, and I wanted to kick my own ass for sounding like a moron.
Noah didn’t seem to notice. “Go ahead and pick something out. I don’t have a preference.”
I wasn’t sure I liked having him put me in charge of choosing everything, but since he seemed to expect me to make a decision, I gazed into the top drawer.
We ended up watching an old action movie from the 1990s. Lots of shooting, car chases, and loud noise that made it kind of hard to talk to each other. I had to wonder whether Noah had turned the volume up so loud on purpose, since he hadn’t seemed to be any more comfortable with our lack of conversation than I was.
About an hour into the movie, someone pounded on the door. I paused the DVD, since Noah had insisted on giving me the remote after he started the movie, and he opened the door to reveal his father scowling at us.
“That’s a little too loud, don’t you think?” he said.
“Sorry,” Noah replied. “You can’t really watch a movie like this one quietly.”
“Yes, you can.” He looked past Noah at me. “Do you want to have the movie that loud, Chris?”
I was kind of impressed that he remembered my name. He seemed like the type of guy who only remembered what was important to him, and I didn’t think I was on that list.
“I don’t mind it,” I said, not wanting to get Noah in more trouble by admitting the volume bothered me too.
Mr. Silver checked his watch. “It’s getting late. I think you should leave, Chris. I’m sure your parents want you home.”
The look Noah shot me was pure panic. The noise of the movie and lack of conversation had started to get to me, and I’d been thinking about leaving before Mr. Silver entered, but now I wanted to stay. I didn’t know what Noah was scared of, if he thought his father would do something after I left or if he just didn’t like the idea of me going home so soon. Either way, I wanted to stay and make sure he’d be all right.
I couldn’t very well argue with his father, so I just nodded. “All right. Sorry about the movie. We were just having fun watching it.”
“I’m sure you were.” He turned to Noah again. “Shut off the movie and show your guest out, Noah.”
Shoulders slumped, Noah turned off the TV. “I’ll walk you downstairs, Chris,” he mumbled.
“Thanks.”
I worried that his dad would follow us, but he stayed upstairs while Noah led me down to the front door. “What’s your dad’s issue?” I asked in a low voice when we reached the bottom of the stairs.
“He likes things a certain way, and noise isn’t part of that way.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “You can come over again sometime. He didn’t say you couldn’t. I hope you will, because it was cool having someone to talk to.”
We hadn’t talked much, but I knew what he meant. Spending a Saturday doing something other than listening to Mom and Dad deal with each other and Cece had been a good change. “I’ll try,” I promised.
I reached for the doorknob and our hands touched. This weird little jolt hit me, kind of like static electricity except not physical, and I looked up at Noah. His wide eyes hinted that he’d felt the same thing.
“Um, see you later,” he said quickly. He opened the door.
“See you.” I went outside. The door almost immediately closed behind me.
Chapter Five
FOR THE rest of the weekend, I kept thinking about Noah. And worrying about him. Something about the way his father acted made me wonder whether he’d done something to Noah after I left.
I wanted to see Noah again, partly to make sure he was all right and partly because I felt bad for him. Maybe I didn’t have many friends, but I at least had some. He only had me.
The biggest thing on my mind about Noah was that weird jolt when our hands touched. If I’d had to explain it, I would have said it was an emotional hit. Something I’d only felt a couple times before, most recently when I’d met the boyfriend I’d had to move away from. I had a full-fledged crush on Noah, and if he didn’t feel the same way, he at least had felt something when our hands had touched. The way he’d looked at me and how fast he’d gotten me out of there proved that.
But I still didn’t know if Noah was gay. I barely knew him at all. I didn’t want to be in his face about my interest in him.
I didn’t even completely understand why I was interested. He was cute. Good body. Soft eyes that made me melt, but he also made me want to take care of him. From the little he’d told me about himself, he had the kind of life I would have killed for: never being stuck in one place all the time, not having to take care of anyone else, getting to see other parts of the world besides Massachusetts. I wanted to find out more.
But the awkwardness between us was tough to deal with. The connection I’d felt with him beside the cove vanished at his house. Maybe that was simply because he was at home. Maybe he was one of those people who was more comfortable outside than in. Plus by the cove, his dad hadn’t been around. Mr. Silver might not have been the only reason things felt weird between Noah and me, but he definitely hadn’t helped.
Part of the crush, though I hated admitting it even to myself, was that Noah was the first person I’d met in Wellfleet who seemed to want to spend time with me. I missed my old boyfriend. Hell, I missed having friends at all. Noah could fill that gap easily, and I wanted to see more of him for that reason, if nothing else. Being around someone I felt awkward with was better than not being around anyone at all besides my family.
I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. My parents didn’t notice that I had something on my mind. No big surprise there. Most of the time, they were too busy with Cece to ask me much about my life. This weekend, though, they didn’t even interact with her very much, or with each other. I thought I heard Mom crying in the bathroom at one point, but when she came out her eyes were dry. Dad just buried his face in a book, even when Cece tried to climb onto his lap.
I didn’t dare ask what was going on with them. I just tried to keep my mind from getting too stuck on Noah, and tried to help with Cece as much as I could.
Monday morning rolled around, and the usual chaos of getting Cece ready for school and down the road for her ride ensued. A van picked her up every day to take her to school and brought her back in the afternoon. It had gotten stuck in the mud on our dirt road once that fall, and since then Mom had to either walk or drive Cece down to the corner where the road was paved. That meant having to have Cece dressed and ready to leave the house at about the same time I had to leave, and Mom had to do it herself because Dad usually left for work around six. The trip to his office in Boston took longer in the mornings because of traffic.
Meanwhile, I had to get myself ready for school. I’d been doing that on my own since before Cece was even born, so I was used to it. I just didn’t like it much. After more than nine years of taking care of myself in the mornings, I still missed having someone at least tell me to have a nice day before I left for school.
At the bus stop, most of the kids appeared half-asleep. Normal for Monday. Some of them partied on the weekends, and some of them worked. No one wanted to drag themselves out of bed on Monday mornings.
“Saw you Saturday,” said Jonathan, a guy who lived on the opposite side of the point from me.
“Where?” I asked.
“Going to Silver’s house.” He grinned, and it wasn’t a p
leasant sight. “You don’t hang out with any of us, but you’re going to visit the rich kid?”
“Wow. I didn’t know my social life was that important to you.” I hadn’t realized anyone had even seen me going to Noah’s. I wished Jonathan hadn’t. My friendship with Noah wasn’t anyone else’s business. The problem was, a lot of people around the point seemed to think everything that happened there was their business.
Jonathan had been hassling me since the day I’d moved in, and he didn’t let up easily. He’d decided to hate me after Cece had thrown something at his younger brother that first day, before Mom had decided to keep Cece away from everyone else. No one had seemed to care that Jonathan’s brother had snatched one of Cece’s toys right out of her hands. I’d seen it happen, so I’d stuck up for Cece. Jonathan, of course, had stuck up for his brother, and we’d disliked each other ever since. Most of the time I ignored him, and we’d kind of reached a truce where we each pretended the other didn’t exist.
Apparently the truce had ended. Jonathan sneered. “What is he, your boyfriend?”
He said it loud enough that everyone else turned around to stare at us. Most of them probably expected a fight.
They didn’t see one. In the time since I’d figured out that I was way more interested in guys than girls, I’d learned not to react to any kind of slurs. Jonathan probably intended to piss me off enough that I would fight him. Since he wasn’t far off from the truth about how I felt about Noah, I didn’t see the point in arguing.
“Why?” I said instead. “Would you be jealous if he was?”
That put the ball back in his court. A few of the kids made those “ooh” noises that people make when they figure something major’s about to happen, and Jonathan clenched his fists. I braced myself, but he turned away. “You’re not worth it,” he snarled. “You’d just better know that if you hang around that freak, no one else is going to want to put up with you. Not that most of us do anyway.”
