“Oh, honey. What the hell happened to you?”
“I was right.” Marla slides behind Todd, who’s too stunned to take his seat. Her voice prompts him to move and claim his seat. She narrows her eyes at him before turning back to me. “I hate to say I told you so, but I knew you couldn’t keep a guy like Noah.”
I bristle. Of course, the entire reason I didn’t want to show up for class walks in during Todd’s examination. “You don’t know anything about the situation.”
Hell, I don’t even know exactly why he wigged out on me. The flimsy excuse he used doesn’t make sense. I hold my chest, afraid to let my mind speculate the real reason.
“I know enough to know I’ll be back with him soon enough.”
“I feel sorry for you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I mean them. I’m not saying them to be snarky. I actually do feel sorry for her. She’s delusional to think she and Noah have a shot.
The professor walks in and stalks over to us, her pearly whites on full display. I’m guessing she’s oblivious to the tension between Marla and me.
“Oh, Shannon. I just wanted to tell you. I’ve gone over the latest schematics you submitted, and oh—” she places her hand on her chest as if she’s going to faint—“brilliant. You definitely ramped up the competition. I’m excited to see who the final two will be.” She claps her hands and backtracks to her desk.
Marla’s expression goes stone cold as her stare bores into me. She must not have liked hearing she had competition. But did she think she’s the only one with talent? The entire class is filled with unique personalities and creativeness.
“Don’t get too comfortable. A few nice words from the teacher don’t make you spectacular. You’re still boring as ever. A show as flashy as Glamour Project won’t ever pick you.”
She lingers by my desk. I don’t pay her any attention as I power on my computer, but I feel the weight of her stare. She can stand there all day and wait for my response. I won’t give her the satisfaction. The competition isn’t up to her. It’s up to the television producers. She won’t have any upper edge with them. She’ll be another number like the rest of us.
Todd remains oddly quiet. I sneak a glance over at him and bite back a laugh. He sits bug-eyed. Give the guy some popcorn while he watches the show. Finally, Marla must give up. She huffs before whisking past, the breeze kicking up a few loose hair strands.
“We’re so going to talk. Captain’s Cup after class.”
“I think I need something stronger than a cup of joe.”
“Mmm, that could be arranged as well.”
I love and hate the fact the professor told me that, but I can’t shake the feeling she put a target on my back.
* * *
“Operation Fuck Noah is officially in order.” My head snaps from my laptop to Lexie and Cara as they barge into the room. Fear grips my stomach. It’s a late afternoon on Saturday, and by the looks on their faces, they have something up their sleeves.
“No! It’s fuck over, Noah. You just made it sound like she’s going to fuck him,” Cara says, rolling her eyes.
“Oops.” Lexie looks stricken as she goes straight to my closet and starts rummaging through my dresses. “Anyway, you’re ours tonight.”
I go to protest, but Cara cuts me off.
“Nope, no arguing. You need to get out of this prison. You can’t hide away forever.” The pointed look Cara throws my way has me shrinking back on my mattress.
“I don’t know. Aren’t you all going to Barton’s?” More than likely, Noah would be there. That is the guys’ regular hangout, after all.
“Yes,” Cara says.
“You know he’ll be there, and I’m not ready to face him in public.”
“Which is exactly why you’re going. You can’t keep avoiding him, but there’s a chance he won’t even show. He and Braxton aren’t really talking these days.” Sadness creeps into Cara’s eyes, and I understand how she feels. I hate that our failed attempt at a relationship tarnished Noah and Braxton’s friendship. No matter how badly I want to hate Noah, I feel bad for my brother. They’ve been best friends forever.
“I tried talking to Braxton over Thanksgiving break. I begged him to not let this come between them, but you know my brother. He’s stubborn.” When we talked, I tried hard to convince Braxton to let it go. He didn’t want to talk about it. He told me Noah knew exactly what he was in for when he started dating me. My brother is too loyal. I’m glad he chooses family first, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling bad.
“Yeah, I know, but Braxton has a point. Enough about them. That’s their situation to fix. Tonight is all about you and showing Noah he didn’t break you.”
At least, Noah held true to his word and rented a car during the drive back home over break. Riding in Braxton’s truck would’ve been awkward as heck. But now, Noah has his car on campus and has free rein to go anywhere. Like on dates. And that thought doesn’t settle well even though I shouldn’t care at all.
“I agree,” Lexie says. “You need to show him you don’t care. Convince him that you’re strong on your own. That he didn’t break you. You don’t need a damn man in your life to be happy.”
“Whoa, Lexie,” Cara jerks her head back and gives her friend an incredulous stare. “Who are you trying to convince?”
I haven’t been hanging with Lexie much this year, but this is the second or third time she’s acted…off. There’s definitely something going on with her. The question is, what?
“What? No! I’m just saying. She’s better off on her own. The reason the operation is called “Fuck Over Noah.’”
“I’ll get a hold of Cindy and see if she’s free to meet me. That’s the only way I’ll go out.” I can’t fathom sitting in the same booth as everyone. No way.
“Yay!” Lexie claps her hands.
“Only if she’s free,” I warn.
Scooting the laptop off my lap, I glance over at the photos hanging on my wall. They’re the same ones I hung up last year but with a few additions of Cara, Lexie, and me. But the ones with the girls aren’t where my gaze lands. Nope. I zero in on my absolute favorite photo—the one with Noah standing between Braxton and me. Staring at Noah’s grin is all it takes to conjure the happy memory. Dressed in their Timberland ball uniforms, they had just won a baseball tournament. They were pumped full of adrenaline, and I happily trailed alongside them as we left the park. Before getting to the car, Mom wanted to take a picture. Braxton protested, but Noah draped his arms around Braxton and me and said, “Come on. This is right where I want to be.” Mom snapped the photo the moment he finished speaking. This single frame of time capturing the moment was very telling. Instead of focusing on the camera, I was looking up at Noah completely enamored. He was a high schooler. I was in junior high. At the time, I wanted more than anything for those words to mean me—that he wanted to be next to me—but he never said anything more. And he never tried anything else until last summer. The pang in my heart tightens. I wish things had gone down differently.
As I press Cindy’s number, a genuine smile crosses my lips when she answers. “Are you busy tonight?”
“Not really. I was going to work on some save-the-whales posters for our awareness drive.”
“As important as that sounds, how about going to Barton’s with me tonight?”
“Ready to show the world you’re not broken?”
“You know me too well.”
“Give me two hours. I’ll get ready and drive over to your dorm.”
“That sounds like a plan.” I hang up and look at the girls. “Okay, we’re set.”
Lexie pulls out a dress and lays it on my bed. “This one. You’ll have men eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“I don’t think I want that,” I mumble.
Three hours later, the four of us walk into Barton’s. I don’t know how or why it happens, but we only get about ten feet through the entrance when my gaze connects with Noah’s.
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
Noah
If the hole in my heart these past few weeks weren’t bad enough, one look at Shannon has my chest ripping in two as regret and loss fill the void. Shouldn’t I be feeling better by now?
I lean against the bar, waiting on my usual water, and all I can do is hold her stare. She doesn’t smile. In fact, she doesn’t show any emotion. I’m not sure what I expected, but indifference wasn’t it. I sure as hell don’t like it.
After the breakup, I spent the first few days in a drunken stupor. It wasn’t until Garret stepped in and made me snap out of my funk that I got sober and went back to class. Luckily, Thanksgiving break was the following week. The time away from Braxton and away from the memories my bedroom holds were good. I can’t say things haven’t gotten better between Braxton and me either, but that’s not what has gutted me. I fucking miss my girl. And seeing her tonight drives that point home.
She’s the one who looks away first as the four of them waltz over to the booth the guys are currently occupying. I guess I’m staying right here. I have to yield the space to her. This is all my fault.
“You doing okay?” Dalton flanks my side.
“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll survive.”
“I still think you’re stubborn, but I know you have your reasons. No matter how fucked up they are.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly. At this point, I’m starting to question myself. I don’t want to burden her, but I haven’t had any more tremors. Maybe, I jumped the gun too quickly? I don’t know. But I hate not having her in my life. She has always been there.
My gaze strays back to the booth, but Shannon and Cindy aren’t there. Figures. I quickly scan the bar without trying to seem obvious.
“Dude, she’s over there.” Dalton nudges his head toward a booth in the far back corner.
Yeah, don’t think I’ll be trying out for any espionage assignments. I suck. “I wasn’t looking for her.”
Dalton laughs as he steps away. “Uh-huh, sure.”
I spend the next twenty or so minutes feeling like a creeper as I watch their every move. It doesn’t take long before two guys approach them. My hands clench around my glass. Shannon is polite, she’d never turn someone away, but it’s excruciating watching her smile up at him. That smile belongs to me. I close my eyes and tell myself to calm down. I have no right to say anything.
When the guys finally walk away, I find myself standing beside her.
“Can we talk?”
Cindy raises an eyebrow at Shannon. I hold my breath waiting for the send-off. She has every right to tell me to go get bent, but here I am, asking anyway. I finally breathe when she nods.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” Cindy springs from her seat and shoots me a glare. I return a shameful nod—one that tells her I know I hurt her friend—as I slide into the vacant seat.
“What do you want, Noah?” There isn’t any hostility in her voice as I expect. Just pure exhaustion. I don’t know if that’s any better.
“I’m sorry for how I handled everything.”
“That’s all well and good, but what does that even mean? What are you asking? To be friends?”
“I’d like that.”
Her exasperated sigh hangs heavy between us. What the hell am I even doing? I’m only making things worse. God, if only I could explain that what I’m doing is best for her, then, maybe, she wouldn’t hate me.
“I’m not going to forget and be friends. It’s too late for that.”
I shake my head. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe I just wanted to be near her. “Are you going to be okay for finals?”
“I’ll survive. I know enough to pass.” Heaviness settles in her eyes as if the weight of the world rests on her shoulders. But then, she lifts her chin, and her stare turns cold. “If that’s all you want, then, I think we’re through here.”
“Shannon—”
“No, I can’t do this. You need to leave me alone.”
I nod and push to my feet. I walk out of the bar, not looking back. She’s made up her mind, and the fate of my demise has royally fucked up every good thing in my life.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Shannon
“I can’t believe today is finally here.” Todd’s words come out rushed as he glances around the packed lecture hall. He exudes enough nervous energy I’m tempted to ask if he drank an energy drink infused with a double shot of espresso. But he’s not the only one anticipating the results. The entire room is filled with anxious undergrads.
“I don’t think anyone in our department stayed home.” I smirk, knowing full well no one in their right mind would miss today’s announcement despite the nine o’clock hour on a Saturday morning. Anyone serious about design knows the stakes and what’s involved. Being recognized on a national level could open so many possibilities.
“No one would be that stupid.”
“I know. I was only kidding, but I almost feel sorry for the two finalists.”
He gasps as he whips his head back to me. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“Because the next three months will be excruciating. It’s only January.” Not to mention how winning will take a wrecking ball to the studying factor. But, get real, sign me up as a tribute. This girl will gladly make the sacrifice.
“It will be killer but so worth it.”
“Definitely worth it.”
“Oh—” Todd’s mouth forms an “O” as his eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t look now, but someone’s ex just walked through the door.”
I follow his gaze, which leads straight to Noah. He came. My heart stammers as he ambles in behind Braxton and Cara. His light-brown hair sits messily on top, way overdue for a haircut, but that’s the only thing amiss. The dark-blue athletic shirt stretches across those broad shoulders. My mind conjures the feeling of being held by those arms. And the security those strong muscles gave me floods my every thought. A couple of months is clearly not enough time to get over him. I miss him. I miss us. We were friends before this, and now we’re just…nothing.
Those deep-green eyes roam the crowd, seemingly searching me out. Or that’s what I choose to believe, anyway. When his gaze connects with mine, the fervent desire displayed steals my breath. Even with the room’s distance, I can still feel the connection between us. It’s burrowed deep in my bones. We stay that way, him staring, me barely breathing, for what seems like an eternity. How am I ever going to get over this boy when a simple look spikes my heart rate and brings me to my knees?
Despite him rejecting me, I don’t hold the same hatred toward him like I do with Caleb. There’s something more behind his breakup. I know there is. I can’t seem to figure it out, though. Braxton points to a few empty seats in the far corner of the room, pulling Noah’s attention. Maybe this means they’re back on speaking terms. I hope so. Their friendship dates too far back to be ruined over our baggage.
“Holy mother of all hotness, I need a cigarette after that eye fucking.”
“Oh, stop. He doesn’t want me like that anymore.”
“The hell he doesn’t. Did you see the look he gave you?”
I would like to think what I saw is longing, but that’s my mind playing a cruel joke. “You saw what you wanted to see. Nothing more.”
“Mmmhmm, whatever, honey. That boy is not over you.”
“He broke up with me, remember?” I look toward the podium wishing this show would start. I really want Todd to drop this discussion. It only stokes the flames of curiosity and opens wounds that never entirely heal.
The night at Barton’s was the last time I’ve talked to him. Christmas came and went, and I have to admit it wasn’t the same without Noah around. Neither Braxton nor I wanted our parents to know about the rift between us. The last thing I wanted to do is explain to Dad how the guy he’s practically raised broke my heart. I thought I’d spare myself and Noah the embarrassment. Besides, what’s the point? We were over before they even knew we were a thing.
The lack of c
ommunication is more about protecting my heart than not wanting to speak to him. It’s been over a month, and the hurt is still as painful as the day he left my bedroom. I’ve avoided jock housing, which wasn’t hard, considering we were only two weeks away from finals when he broke it off. Then, I went home during break and didn’t return with Braxton. I waited until the semester started.
“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact he’s still harboring some deep-seated feelings for you. I don’t know what his problem is, but he’s definitely not over you.”
“Well, I’m over this conversation.” Irritation laces the edge of my voice. Todd throws his hands up in defeat.
“Fine, we’ll play it by your rules.”
A hush sweeps across the crowd as everyone’s attention diverts to Professor Scott stepping up to the microphone. My mouth dries. Holy crap, I can’t believe the time has come. I’ve pictured being the winner so many times, I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t make the cut. I want to win so badly.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m sure you’re all awaiting the results. This decision didn’t come easy as there are some very talented individuals. I thought it’d be fair to start with a slideshow of your work,” the man who’s holding our fate in his hands says.
The lights dim, and the projector beams the images onto the screen behind the professor. I glance at Todd, who stares back with heightened anxiety.
“We’ve got this,” I mouth. At his nod, we settle back in our seats and take in everyone’s design. There are some very talented people at CU. If I am chosen, I can take pride in knowing my designs are indeed good.
My breath hitches as Marla’s photo and designs appear on the screen. All three of her designs are stunning and quite sexy. Her evening wear knocks it out of the park with the low-cut V revealing enough cleavage to leave the men drooling. But her material choices are classy. She submitted some great designs. Admiration outlines the hushed whispers. I can almost hear Marla’s pleased smirk from where I sit.
Behind the Count: Cessna U Wildcats Book Two Page 22
