Arianna
My knee bounces restlessly as we pull into the parking lot in
front of my dorm room.
It’s odd, to recognize everything so fully, but not know if it’s from the visit we took here last year or the semester I called this place my home.
Since all five of us needed to come and go through our things, we decided to ride up as together in Mason’s Tahoe. The boys carry my and Cam’s suitcases, chatting about the mess they left their rooms in as we make our way inside and onto the elevator.
Cameron presses the number three, and I log that into my memory. The boys speak, and I smile in response, but I have no idea what they said. My heart is pounding in my ears, leaving no room for anything else.
Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I’m nervous. What if I hate it?
Does that mean I’m different? That I changed and I don’t even know it? What if I walk in and all my memories come flooding back,
overwhelming me?
What if I walk in and they don’t?
Before I realize it, I’m standing in front of a cheap wooden door, the number 311 hanging beside it. Pulling the keys from my pocket, I slide it in the lock and turn.
The door swings open and I hold my breath.
It’s with shaky steps that I ease inside, and the moment I cross the threshold, the weight on my shoulders lessens.
A smile breaks over my face as I look to the candles on the countertops, a translucent bowl half full of wine corks and bottle caps between them.
I glance at Cam.
She picks it up, shaking it a little. “This is everything we consumed as besties since move-in day. Group caps are unworthy.”
“That sounds solid.” I run my fingertips over the counter, slipping into the living room.
The pillows are purple and white, fluffy, and there’s two matching blankets folded neatly—definitely not by me—and hidden under the glass of the coffee table.
The remotes are in a giant cup that reads ‘size does matter’ and the rug beneath my feet is a fuzzy black. “I see I won on the rug.”
“Yes, you did, and thank god, cause Brady totally spilled root beer float all over it.”
“Guilty as charged,” he shouts from the entryway.
I turn to them, all three pretending they’re not waiting for me to have a mental breakdown, understandably so.
I haven’t talked much since everything with Noah. Granted it was only two days ago, but still. It’s noticeable, maybe even more so when I learned he left for campus, without a word, only hours after we got back from his favorite place.
“I’m going to go check out my room,” I tell them. “You guys can go to your place. Just come back when you’re done.”
No one moves, so I do, and only then does Cameron turn to them and begin to whisper.
She promises we’re fine, and that she’ll call if there’s a need, but I don’t stick around to hear the rest.
I step into the room that has my name stenciled across the door, quietly closing it behind me and quickly spinning to face the plywood a long moment before I convince myself to turn around.
My stomach churns, but as I allow myself to glance along the small space, my mind eases.
I smile at the wall of string lights and walk over to find the power button located on the outlet cube. Turning them on, the bright white lights begin to twinkle, earning a low laugh from me, and I plop onto the fluffy white comforter my parents bought me before move-in.
There’re Post-it Notes scattered along my mirror and pink pens in an Avix mug, sitting on my dresser, a few other knickknacks sprinkled around. Above my headboard hangs a giant splatter paint picture with a pair of puckered, pink bleeding lips in the center. Textbooks are in a pile by the closet, so I move that way, and lower to the ground to check them out.
I open to the first sticky note hanging out the side and read over a passage about the pains in American History. Beside it are some scribbly thoughts in my handwriting, a proposal on how we as the next generation can do better.
I don’t remember writing it. I don’t remember this room. But I don’t hate it either.
I love it.
Does that mean I’m still me?
Pulling myself to my feet, I peek out the window, and when I do, I gasp. Noah is here, sitting in the parking lot with his truck idling.
I can’t see his face from here, but he’s looking forward, in the same direction Mason’s truck is still parked.
I pull my phone from my pocket, preparing to text him, but then his truck begins to roll, so I lower my phone onto the nightstand beside me.
There’s a soft rap on the door, and when I glance that way, Chase pokes his head inside.
His eyes flick around, a small smile pulling at his lips, and I realize then, this is the first time he’s seen it.
He’s never been in my room.
My skin prickles with unease, and he walks closer.
“We’re going to head to the house, but I wanted to check on you first.” He pushes my hair behind my ear, and a small frown flickers across my face from the action. “How you feeling?”
“I’m good.” I nod. “Honest, I just want to look around and get reacquainted with the place.”
“K,” he breathes, and when he leans closer, a knot forms in my chest. I try to smother it, to press it down, but it doesn’t work.
His lips fall to my forehead and that knot tightens, my breastbone caving in, but when my eyes open, meeting his soft green ones, it becomes a little more bearable.
He grins and walks out, closing the door behind him.
Blowing out a deep breath, I lower to my bed, burying myself in the mountain of pillows and close my eyes.
I inhale deeply and my muscles clench. I inhale again.
And again, and then I’m sightless in a thick, cloudy haze. My senses go haywire, searching.
I’m hit with mornings in the mountains and evenings on the ocean. With spice and pine and mint.
My eyes open as a flash from the hospital comes to mind.
The scent was there, it lingered, and under the heated steam of the shower, the aroma was brought back to life, invading and overtaking my senses.
It calls to me, soothes me, and then it pulls me under.
I’m not sure how much time passes before Cameron’s soft voice wakes
me.
“Hey sleepyhead,” she whispers, curling up in front of me. “Nice to see
you actually knocked out for once.” “I feel like I slept for a day.” “It’s only been an hour.”
“Well, the comfort of home for the win.”
We chuckle, and Cameron begins biting at her nails. “What’s wrong?”
She frowns. “I’m nervous for you.” “Don’t be. I feel fine.”
“You’re still having panic attacks, Ari. How are we supposed to go to class, not knowing if you’re okay on the way to your own?”
“You can’t babysit me all the time, Cameron.”
“I know, but… what are we going to say to people in our building? Should we make like a photo diagram like they did in The Parent Trap, so you can pretend you know them? I mean, is that even allowed? Would the school be okay with you as a second semester student when you don’t remember the first? What if you fail? Get kicked out?”
“Whoa.” I laugh lightly, sitting up, and she follows. “Chill, okay. Seriously. It’s going to be fine. I’m—” Over her shoulder, I spot a calendar tacked to the wall.
“Ari?” She shifts on the bed, looking where I am. “Oh my god,” she gasps, jumping up and tears it from the wall. She tugs it into her chest and then I’m standing on the bed.
“Cameron.”
“Ari…” She shakes her head.
I jump off, my blood pressure rising. “Give it to me.”
Tears pool in her eyes and she closes them before handing it over.
Spinning away, I hold it out in front of me, and my limbs begin to shake.
My eyes are pulled to the bold blue letters, cased in with pink, purple, and yellow hearts over the date of January 19th, but it’s the words written in the small square box that sends a pulsing pain through my entire body.
Gala with Noah.
My breaths come in short, deep pants. Every ounce of air expelling with each puff and not nearly enough circulating back.
I grow lightheaded, fall to the floor and pull the cheetah print calendar closer.
My stomach lurches, and I groan. I look to Cameron. “What the fuck is this?”
“Ari,” she cries.
“Cameron,” I snap, shaking the thing. “What the hell is this?”
Her shoulders fall, and with hesitant steps, she walks toward my closet.
She peeks at me, and then pushes the doors open, her chin falling to her chest.
Hanging there in the middle, and facing forward, as if I wanted to see it clear as day every time I stepped into this room, is a gown.
A sleek, side-shoulder mermaid-style gown.
It’s shiny and silky and a brilliantly beautiful… blue.
My hand comes up to cover my mouth, and I cry, burying my face.
Cameron falls before me, wrapping me in a hug. “I’m so sorry, but you asked us to promise not to say a word. We were just trying to follow your lead.”
“How could he… why didn’t… ” I growl, rip the sheet from the rest of the calendar, and jump to my feet. I’m out the door as fast as my feet will
carry me.
“Ari, wait!” Cameron quickly follows.
I break out in a run, opting for the stairs, and soon, her shouts echo above me.
“Ari!”
But I’m already flying out of the exit.
The January air has a chill, but the sun is out and bright and warming by the minute.
I keep running.
Through the parking lot, around the coffee shop and across campus. I run until I’m standing three feet from Noah’s truck, Mason’s not far from it.
I charge forward just as Mason’s flying from the front door, his phone locked to his ear.
He spots me instantly and lowers his cell, tension written all over him. “Ari…”
I push him in the chest, and his hands lift. “How could you let me become this girl?!” “That’s not fair.”
“I told him I was going with Chase to that stupid dance, and he stared at me with this…” My ribs tighten. “Oh, god, this just brokenness and I didn’t get it and I thought he was just… sad and now I know it’s because of me. It was him, wasn’t it? He’s… he was…”
“Ari, you have to calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down! I want to remember!” I cry. “I want my life back!”
My brother’s eyes water and he tugs me to him, holding me against his chest as our dad would do if he were here.
“I know you do, sister. I know.” He hesitates a moment, and then he looks down at me.
“I’m going in there, Mason. I need to talk to him.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’m not sure of anything, so what could it hurt?” “Him.”
I turn to find Cameron, her hands on her hips, breathing shallow.
She walks to us, a somberness on her face. “It could hurt him, and he’s been nothing but hurt since the day you were hit by that truck, which was on this street by the way. Right here, in front of this house.”
“Cameron,” Mason snaps, but she pushes on.
“It was right after their last game of the season, a loss in the playoffs.
You came here to find him, but Chase found you first.” I frown, shaking my head.
“You had something to say that night, to Chase and to Noah. But you only got the chance to talk to one. Face to face anyway.”
“Cameron!” my brother screams. “You texted the other.”
My skin prickles, and I draw into myself. She tosses me my phone, and I catch it.
“If you’re really ready for all this, re-sync your cloud, Ari.”
Mason jerks from me, getting in her face. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What you should have done a long time ago.” She glares. “You were the one who got her a new phone, flashed her account over.”
My eyes fly to Mason, his glare still pointed at Cameron.
She shrugs. “I’m her best friend. I know her passwords too, and after she decided, she didn’t want to know, I went to her phone planning to do the same, but it was already gone. The entire thread. You deleted it, didn’t you?”
“I did what was asked of me.” After a moment, his eyes meet mine, shame weighing them down. “He didn’t want to make things harder on you.”
He… Noah.
My chest rises and falls with several breaths, and then I whip around, rushing into the house. I lock the door once I’m through, and Mason’s hard bang beats down instantly.
Someone comes around the corner, frowning at me as he heads to unlock it, but I’m already tearing open the door that leads to Noah’s room.
As I reach the last step, Noah pokes his head around the corner, and we both freeze.
“I… um.” I blink, glancing behind me and back. “No one told me where your room was…”
Noah’s brows pull and then slowly, he nods.
“Yeah,” he answers the question I didn’t have to ask. “You’ve been here.”
“A lot?”
“That’s up to interpretation.” “Noah.”
“Yes, a lot.”
I nod, looking down, and that’s when I remember why I came in the first place.
I step around him, into the space, and I’m nearly knocked off my feet.
It’s the scent. The mint and pine. It’s Noah.
“Ari…”
I lift the calendar and turn to face him, slapping it into his chest.
He has a choice to watch it fall or grab hold of it and read it, and he chooses to let it drop to our feet.
A tenderness falls over him and his head tips the slightest bit. He already knows what’s on there.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he rasps.
A humorless chuckle leaves me, and I shake my head.
“What?” I stare. “That’s what you have to say about this?” I shake my head again, spinning away from him, and moving farther into his place.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly, the warmth of his presence growing closer. “But more and more, I have no idea how to accomplish that.” He’s right behind me now, my body senses his. “Lies hurt people, and I feel like all I do is lie when I look at you.”
I gulp. “So don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
The hairs on the nape of my neck stand as the heat of his breath reaches
me.
“Lie.” Slowly I face him, and my lungs expand. “Don’t lie to me,
Noah.”
His blue eyes pierce mine, and he gives a curt nod. “Okay.” “Say You Swear.”
A broken breath pushes past his lips, and he nods again.
With anxious waves rolling over me, I point to the calendar on the floor. “The gala. I was supposed to go with you.”
He nods, and an ache forms in my chest. “I had a dress.”
His lips tip the slightest bit. “You did?” “You didn’t know?”
He shakes his head. “I bet you wanted to surprise me. What color?” “Guess.”
He points his smile to the floor, as if he knows but doesn’t say a word.
“The gala. That’s what you meant when you said I owed you a dance.
Because I should have danced with you then.” Another nod.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I hold them in. “Why did I draw hearts all around the date?”
“You didn’t.”
Frustration blooms, and I bend, snatching it off the ground and slap it into his hand. “You swore.”
“You wrote it on the calendar. I drew the hearts.”
“Y-you drew the hearts?” I stutter. “In three colors? On the calendar in
—”
“In your bedroom.” He stares, hesitating, but only for a moment. “And
in your school planner. And on the one in mine.” “In your… what?”
“Bedroom,” he whispers.
My throat swells. “Show me.”
Nodding, Noah holds a hand out, so I slip away, slowly moving through the small living room area and through the open door that leads to a fresh made bed.
A pair of shoes sit at the foot of it, and papers litter the small desk in the corner.
I freeze when I spot an old T-shirt tossed in the corner, one that looks a lot like Mason’s old high school shirt, the one I stole as sleepwear.
My head snaps over my shoulder, my cheeks heating when Noah nods. He slips ahead of me, pulling the standing calendar from his desktop,
and hands it to me.
It’s still on December, which is completely blank, and so I flip it over, and sure enough, it’s there, hearts and all.
My hands tremble, and I brush my thumb over the writing. “Noah…” “We were excited,” he rasps. “That’s all.”
“How could you allow me to go with Chase?” I look up.
“I didn’t allow anything.” His shoulders fall. “It was your choice.”
“But I had already made one. If I would have known, I wouldn’t have said yes.”
“But you didn’t know.”
“That’s your fault too!” I don’t mean to shout, and guilt wraps around my ribs.
“You can blame me. Anything you want to blame me for, do it. Please.” His tone is shattered, helpless and the ache bleeds into my own veins. “I’ll carry that weight. Gladly. Happily, if it takes any off you. I don’t want to hurt you.” He steps closer, nearly begging to take the pain from within me as his own. “If I went against what you asked, if I looked you in the eye and told you anything from before, I would have risked scaring you away. I couldn’t take that chance.”
“You wouldn’t have scared me.”
“You don’t know that.” Torment burns in his eyes, and my lips begin to quiver.
“Did you ask Mason to delete something from my phone?” He visibly winces, silently pleading for a pass.
I don’t give him one.
You swore… Noah nods. “What was it?”
He swallows. “A message… all of our messages.”
There were a lot?
“Did you delete it from yours?” Noah hangs his head. “No.”
“Why?”
He closes his eyes, and when they open, they’re clear, and I’m captivated by the sorrow within them. “Because I needed to hold on to what you gave me with the last message you sent.”
“What did I give you?” I whisper.
“Purpose, Juliet,” he whispers back. “You gave me purpose when I wasn’t so sure I had one.”
My eyes close, and I’m made aware tears have fallen when the heat of Noah’s thumbs meet my skin, shocking me, warming me.
Soothing me?
My lids fly open, locking with his. His touch halts, but it doesn’t leave.
The calendar falls, and my hands press against his chest.
I jolt, but then I flatten them there. His heart ticks against my palm, and my pulse follows his lead. It starts stuttering, slow, and with each passing second, the rhythm picks up and up, and my eyes rise with it.
Noah’s fingers twitch against my hair, and he swallows. I rise onto my toes and his features pull.
“Juliet…” he rasps. “What are you doing?” “I don’t know,” I admit, his lips so close now. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“How do you feel about me?”
He says nothing, so I look up, and when I do, suddenly, his silence makes sense.
Noah doesn’t have to say a word, the truth is written all over him. He couldn’t hide it if he tried, and I think he might be trying…
 |
Noah
Goddamn it, she’s gorgeous, perfect.
Here.
She came to me in anger, found me on memory, and now stares at me with need.
But my baby has no idea what she needs when the answer, while hard to find, is so simple.
It’s one word, one thing. It’s me.
The ache in her voice, it cuts me. It’s fucking killing me. How do I feel about her?
My knuckles run up her cheek, my palm flattening against it a moment later, and she blinks slowly.
I love you, baby. Every part of you.
I love the way you link life to lyrics, how you smile at the moon and love like the ocean, far and wide, and without apology. I love how selfless you are, how honest and kind, even though life hasn’t been so kind to you lately. I love how you try to be brave for your family, because you don’t want them to hurt, even when doing so hurts you a little.
I love you so much I want to come home to you, wake beside you and spend a lifetime worshipping you. I want the house you spoke of and the family in your dreams. I don’t only want to be the man you need, but the one you want. The one you can’t live without. I want to love you for a lifetime, and even more after that.
But most of all, I just want the chance to make you mine again. Because I’m yours. Always.
No matter what.
“Noah,” she rasps, and I blink back to now.
To the vulnerable girl standing before me, confused by the way her heart beats when she’s close to me, and understanding exactly what it is she’s feeling while she is.
She feels safe and calm. She’s at peace and taken aback by the fact that she senses no need to run, how she knows she has no reason to.
Because with me, she’s home.
I am home for you, baby. Please remember…
Ari takes a deep breath. “Do something for me?” “Anything.”
“Show me how you feel about me,” she pleads. My gut curls, but my mind beams with light.
She nibbles on her lip. “I know I’m messed up and—” “You’re not messed up.”
“Nothing has felt real since I woke up, but being here…” Hesitantly, her hand glides up, and it doesn’t stop. “I can’t explain it.”
My blood pumps wildly, every muscle in my body contracting. “I made you a promise once.”
“What promise?”
“Never to deny you, so I need you to think really hard about your next move, because I’m not strong enough to be a better man here. A promise to you is something I will never break, even if you don’t remember me making it, but I’m not sure if this is me being noble or if it’s being selfish.” My hand lowers, my thumb gliding along her lower lip. She shivers and heat spreads through me. “You should walk away, Juliet.”
“I don’t want to.” Tears fill her eyes, and her head lowers, so I meet her forehead with mine. As slowly as possible, she presses her lips to the corner of mine, and holds there for a long moment.
I can hardly fucking breathe, hardly keep my hands from driving into her hair, but I somehow manage to keep myself still.
When she finally pulls back, it’s with the softest of smiles. “Do you think we can maybe talk for a little while?”
Possibility sends a spark through my chest and the muscles in my neck stretch. “Always. As long as you want.”
I thought maybe she’d lead us to the living room, but she simply lowers to the floor, leaning her back against my bed, so I do the same, mine against the wall across from her, and wait.
|
Ari
Noah stares as I pull my legs up and drop my chin against my
knees.
“Tell me something,” I ask.
A tenderness blankets him, and he looks down, biting back a smile as if he has a secret, and suddenly, I want to know all of his.
With humor in his gaze, he meets mine. “What do you want to know?” “Everything.”
His eyes pierce mine, and I swear they grow glossy, but in the next moment, they’re clear and enthralled by me.
Noah smiles and something in my chest stirs.
He starts speaking, and I hang on his every word.
