Chapter 19

“I’m not going in there,” Noah assured me.

I glared at him. “You have to, Noah. It’s a party. You lost the bet. You have to come inside.”

“I can just drive off right now and they won’t even notice,” he responded.

“Noah,” I said in a quieter voice. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and I continued, taking that as a go ahead. “Just come inside; it’ll be fun.”

“I thought you said parties weren’t fun,” he replied with a sigh as he began getting out of the car.

“I was alone all those times,” I told him, trying to sound casual. “Now I get to wreak havoc with you.”

He rolled his eyes as we walked towards the house. I held back a grin as I looked at him. “Are you going to dance with girls if they ask you? Or guys?”

“Why are you always questioning my sexuality?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he glanced at me.

I shrugged. “You never know.”

He snorted, shaking his head and tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. “I like girls.”

I nodded. “Okay, that’s what they all say.”

He nudged me in the side and I laughed, recovering from my stumble quickly. “It’s okay to be gay. I’d like you either way!”

“I hate you so much,” Noah muttered. Rolling his eyes, he continued to walk and I fell in step beside him. Our friends already disappeared into the house, probably downing shots or dancing with each other. “You guys really enjoy these parties?”

I snorted, shaking my head. “No, I don’t like them.”

“Yet you come to every one,” he told me with a snort.

“Because I made a deal with your sister,” I repeated for what seems to be the tenth time this night.

“You really need to learn how to say no,” he muttered.

“Says you,” I retorted with an eye roll.

“Hey! I had to come here. I lost a bet,” he retorted, realizing how stupid he sounded.

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” I snorted and he glared at me, his cheeks tinting pink.

Pointing over his shoulder, he backed away. “I’m going to get something to drink.”

I rolled my eyes. “Grab me a cola.”

He nodded his head curtly as he turned and walked towards the kitchen. I leaned against the wall opposite to the doorway, where people came flooding through. I watched as girls in different styles of clothing strutted through the door, ready to get “wasted” tonight. I heard a familiar voice and I cringed. “We’re gonna go home plastered!”

I took a stumbling step backwards, bumping into a girl. “Watch where you’re going!” she exclaimed loudly. I disregarded her and looked around anxiously. I quickly darted around her, heading towards the kitchen where Noah disappeared. He had been gone for at least fifteen minutes. He was standing across from a girl with brown hair and she was looking at him with a grin. He was sipping a cup filled to the brim with soda but the moment I stepped near him, I could tell that it was laced with something by the way his eyes were glazed over. “Noah.”

“Hm?” he asked as he looked away from his drink and towards me.

“What are you drinking?” I asked him cautiously as I looked at the cup in his hands, his long fingers wrapping around the red solo cup protectively.

“Well, the girl that gave it to me said that it was something good,” he grinned as he swished the contents of the cup around slowly.

I looked at him and pressed my hand to my forehead. “Oh my God, Noah,” I complained.

“I am a god, aren’t I?” he grinned at his sarcastic comment. Although his dimpled cheeks and his white smile make my heart flutter, it annoys me that he, my only hope, is buzzed in the first ten minutes of the party. My eyes flitted over him as he brought the cup to his pinkish lips. His dark hair was disheveled, as it was all day. His eyelashes brushed against his cheeks while he grimaced, downing the entire cup of whatever potent drink it was. He motioned for the girl to refill it and I went to stop him but it was to no avail, seeing as he just reached above my hand and let the girl pour the same liquor into it. It was obviously strong because he was chuckling quietly as he stared at me.

“Noah, you’re such an idiot,” I groaned as I smelled the drink the girl placed in his hand.  

“I’m actually quite intelligent,” he said confidently, bringing the cup to his lips.

I rolled my eyes. “I know that but you’re drinking,” I told him.

“Yeah, and you drank before,” he stated obviously. I quickly remembered the reason why I came to get Noah and I looked behind me. This is obviously the first place that Spencer will come. He’ll probably search for some innocent girl and fill her up with compliments before shoving drinks in her hand, threatening to hurt her if she doesn’t drink them. Anger burned in my stomach like a lit flame and I clenched my jaw tightly. I grabbed Noah’s arm and he frowned, staring at my hand as it wrapped around his forearm. “You’re going to make me spill my drink,” he complained.

“Oh shut up,” I muttered.

“What have you been drinking?” he snorted. “Loser-juice? Or haterade?”

Despite my anger, I had to laugh as I brought him up the stairs and into an empty bedroom. “This isn’t another one of your attempts to seduce me, right?” he asked curiously.

“Another?” I scoffed. “I've never tried to seduce you!”

“Sure you haven’t,” he drawled. I reached for his cup but he moved it above my head, earning a glare from me.

“What? When have I ever tried to seduce you, Noah?” I crossed my arms as I sat on a desk chair. He plopped onto the bed, his cup in his hands. It’d be dangerous to sit on the bed next to him; he’d probably have me arrested for some sort of assault.

“Well, Kennedy, you took my first kiss for starters,” he rolled the cup around in his hands.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Throwing my hands in the air, I gasped loudly and dramatically. “Wow, Noah! I should be arrested for my heinous acts!”

“In the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories,” Noah muttered, quoting Law and Order SVU.

I let out a loud laugh, rolling my eyes at his cheesiness. My phone started ringing and I glanced at it as I pulled it from my pocket. I looked at Noah whose eyes were focused on the carpet of the room. “Who is it?”

“My mom, I’ll just text her,” I muttered.

“No, answer it,” he told me.

“But—,” I began to explain but he cut me off with a shake of his head. For some reason, I decided not to argue, and instead, I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey?”

“Hey honey, I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay,” my mother told me, “and that you can form coherent sentences.”

“Mom, I’m not drunk,” I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about poor Noah over here. I reached towards his cup but he held it out of my reach. 

“Well, I love you honey. Call me when you’re about to leave and when you arrive at Marissa’s. How long is the ride again?” she asked me.

“Half an hour,” I told her as I closed my eyes, struggling to remember the amount of time it took us to arrive. It was mostly spent trying to drown out Chloe’s attempts at conversation or the girl’s terrible singing. I’m guilty of singing, too, because the moment Bon Jovi started playing, I was belting out song lyrics loud enough for people across the world to hear. Noah glared at me but didn’t bother changing the station; it was either old tunes or crappy music.

“Okay, I love you,” she stated.

“I love you, too,” I told her. As I hung up, I let my eyes fall on Noah who seemed to have dropped into a realm of sadness. “You okay?”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “You’re lucky you have a mom.”

“Everyone has a mom,” I told him with a smile. “Just…some aren’t there and others are.”

He laughed but it seemed bitter. His eyebrows were knit together and he was biting his lip in a gloomy way. “I wish my mom was here.”

“Noah, stop,” I told him before he could go into further explanation. His eyes flitted from the floor to me. My breath caught in my throat as his eyes met mine for the first time ever. The oceanic blue was overwhelming, capturing. It held me there and I felt frozen solid. My eyebrows knit together as I stared at him in shock, complete and utter shock. I assumed that seeing emotion in one’s eyes was something that only happens in movies and books but I could actually see it. I could see the hurt floating behind his blue irises, swimming around like fish in the sea, like they belong there. I could see the pain that managed to build up in this boy over his seventeen years of life, seventeen years which I’m grudgingly in the dark about. And it hurt me, it really did. It hurt me more than anything physical ever had. I never thought that you could feel someone else’s pain but I can and I do.

My eyes flitted from each of his, which were threatening to tear up. I took a moment to form my next sentence, letting out a long, shaky breath. “You’ll regret telling me any of this when you’re sober.”

“Maybe,” he whispered, “but maybe not.”

I shook my head. “No, you will. You’ll probably avoid me for a week, or maybe two, and I don’t want that.”

“Or you’ll avoid me for a week if I tell you, maybe a month, maybe a year. Who knows?” he shook his head, his voice quiet. His face was void of emotion, and his voice was as well. I decided that I don’t like seeing him like this, like he doesn’t have emotions; especially when only moments ago, emotions were practically flowing out of him. The alcohol is toying with his emotions. “No one stays after they find out. They give me looks of pity and they tell me that it’s okay, that it’ll get better. It never has and it never will. It only gets easier to tolerate.”

I stared at him with sadness. “I wouldn’t do that, Noah,” I told him with sincerity in my voice.

“You never know,” he sighed with a shake of his head.

“I wouldn’t,” I whispered.

<<>><<>> 

We sat in silence for an hour. I spent that hour staring at him, trying to put the pieces together even though the pieces that I had were blurry and didn’t quite make sense. I’ve come to the conclusion that I like Noah. I like the way that he rubs his eyes when his contacts begin to fail him and I like the way he breathes deeply when he thinks, his eyes flutter closed and his hands twitch occasionally, though he isn’t asleep. I like the way that his lips perk up at the corners when he thinks of something, whatever it may be, and he sighs longingly as he twiddles his thumbs which rest on his rising and falling chest. I like the way that he blinks slowly when he’s confused and trying to figure out what he doesn’t understand. And most of all, I like the way that he’s simply Noah.

I realized that I don’t want to fix Noah; in fact, I never did. I like Noah the way he is. All I’ve wanted to do since the first day I met him was to get to know him, to figure out who Noah Rivers really is. Not the guarded high school outcast with a popular sister and no friends, no, the real Noah Rivers. And that’s what I’m doing. I managed to get close enough to see that Noah doesn’t need fixing. He needs someone who cares and that’s who I want to be. That’s who I’m going to be.

I looked at Noah, watching as he rubbed his temples with closed eyes. “You should get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re about to leave,” I told him, hoping that he agrees. He looked over at me and I tried to smile, but it was too hard.

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” he responded, “I honestly don’t think I can, anyway.”

“Then what are you going to do?” I asked him. “I may not be the boss of you, but I’m not letting you go out there and make a fool of yourself, or worse, get hurt.”

“Well, I’m going to dance all night to the best song ever,” he murmured along to the sound playing downstairs. I stared at him and slowly shook my head. He simply shrugged, sitting up and propping his hands on his interwoven legs. “What? It’s a catchy song.”

He quickly downed the rest of the contents of his abandoned cup, shivering as he swallowed it. Everytime I tried to take the cup from him, he'd raise it above my head or take a large swig of it. Eventually, I was too lost in thought to take it from him. A few moments later, he gave me a cheesy grin. “I want more.”

“No,” I told him, growing upset with the drunken Noah. Sober Noah wouldn’t do this. He’d probably yell at me for spinning around in the desk chair, claiming that I’m “annoying the life out of him” and that I “need to grow up”.  But right now, I’d prefer sober Noah. “You’ve had enough, Noah.”

“Fine, I’ll just go get it myself,” he snapped as he stood up. I quickly got up to sit him back down. He stumbled forward, practically slamming me against the wall. With a rather girlish squeal, I managed to hold him up. He was laughing loudly as I basically dragged him towards the bed. My arms were wrapped around him and I was absorbing his body heat, inhaling his scent. I took one last whiff before I was rudely interrupted.

“Uh, are you sniffing me?” he asked.

Blushing, I put him down and shook my head. He extended his legs, almost tripping me as he did so. “No, I wasn’t. I was just making sure you would land on the bed if I dropped you.”

“Sure you were,” he muttered as he threw his cup across the room. I just glared at him while I dropped into the desk chair, swiveling slowly. “Why’d you even drag me in here?”

“Because someone that I didn’t want to deal with was out there,” I shrugged.

“So you automatically found me and dragged me up here? What? Are you my babysitter?” he scoffed. I was happy that he didn’t say something perverted so I just rolled my eyes.

“I walked over to you hoping the guy would leave me alone if he saw me with you,” I told him honestly.

Stretching out on the bed, he groaned loudly. “The hangover is going to kill me.”

"How many cups did you have?" I asked him.

"When you came over, I think I had... five?" he asked. "Or six. I wasn't counting."

“Yeah, they’re pretty bad,” I responded.

“I know,” he muttered.

“You’ve had one before?” I asked in confusion.

He laughed. “I’ve had more than one.”

“When did you drink?” I questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

“The first time was when I was fourteen. I stopped after about a month,” he shook his head, “I broke into Ethel and my father’s expensive liquor cabinet on occasion, usually when I had a bad day, which was often back then. I still wasn’t used to the house; I wasn’t over what happened; I didn’t have any friends; I was ostracized at school.”

I listened intently, watching as his facial expressions changed as the words spilled off of his tongue. “Ethel absolutely hated me after that incident. She threatened to send me to a foster home because of it but that’s when my father intervened, but at the time I called him Lukas, and told her that I was his child and he had the say over me. He grounded me, but it’s not like I would do anything or go anywhere; he managed to keep me in my room for two weeks.”

“Is that why you and Ethel don’t get along?” I asked him before I could stop myself.

He just shook his head. “It’s probably one of the reasons. But it’s definitely not the biggest reason.”

I didn’t want to ask what the biggest reason was. “Get some sleep, Noah. You need it.” I’m not sure whether or not he listened to me; all I know is that he was quiet.

<<>><<>> 

When I finally got a text from Floyd, I sighed and walked over to Noah, who was sleeping peacefully. His hands were tucked under his head as his long body was curled up. His hair was messier than it was when we first arrived, which is expected after practically a four hour nap. Hopefully, he’s not as drunk as he was before. I wasn’t sure how to wake him up, maybe he would punch me in the gut if I touched him. I quickly backed away, hissing his name. “Noah! Noah, wake up!”

He’s obviously a heavy sleeper. Somehow, he managed to sleep in this loud house which is practically shaking to the sound of the rap song playing downstairs. I guess that’s expected though; he rarely gets sleep, so when he does, it’s probably going to be a deep, heavy sleep, which is why I feel guilty for having to wake him up. I walked over towards him, shoving his arm. He simply mumbled something before turning over. If he won’t wake up from being shoved, he won’t wake up from having his hair brushed, right? I ran my hand through his hair, allowing my fingers to push through the soft, dark strands. His eyes slowly opened and his eyebrows furrowed as his gaze landed on my hand, which was still entwined in the locks of his hair. I slowly removed my hand, tucking it behind my back. “Uh, we’re leaving.”

He sat up, stretching and yawning. “What time is it?”

“Half past two,” I mumbled, watching as he stood up. I forgot how tall he was until he was towering over me. He stumbled slightly and I wanted to sigh. So he won’t be any help dragging people inside of his house. “Come on, let’s go. Floyd is waiting.”

Noah walked beside me as we exited the room, walking down the steps. The party was still going, although the crowd had thinned out presumably. Something caught Noah’s eye and he glanced at me. “I’ll be right back.”

I just nodded, looking around. I found the three girls dancing beside each other. I had to squirm through a few dancing couples just to reach them. Obnoxious laughter met my ears and I sighed, grabbing hold of Marissa. Dana and Chloe were laughing as they leaned on each other. I grabbed Dana’s arm, watching as Chloe latched onto her for dear life. I slowly led them out of the house, making sure I didn’t lose anyone. The front lawn was empty aside from littered beer bottles and red solo cups. Floyd was sitting on the front steps, his head between his legs. I noticed a pile of vomit further out on the lawn and I wrinkled my nose. Gross.

“Finally, it’s been, like, ninety years,” Floyd slurred as he stood up. He gripped the railing, which helped him a little. I had four drunken people trailing after me like a train as I led them to the car. Where’s Noah? Out of all five of them, he’s the most sober.

I grabbed the keys I managed to steal from Noah out of my front pocket and unlocked the car. Opening the back door, I began piling the girls in. Floyd went last and he slumped over the moment I closed the door, his eyelids closing as he rested his head against the window. It’s a little packed but it’s better than having to put someone in the trunk. I think we all know who'd that be.

I looked around in search of Noah. Gritting my teeth, I locked the car and began storming towards the house. Noah appeared tripping down the walkway, a cup in his hand. His long legs were tangling with each other as he tried to stroll. Deciding that I wouldn’t be able to pry the drink from his hands, I latched onto his forearm and dragged him towards the car. I unlocked the passenger’s seat and went to shove him into the car and he glared at me.

“You are not driving my car,” he demanded.

“What?” I snapped. “You’re obviously drunk, as well as the other four people in the car. I’m the only sober one.”

He glared at me as I put the keys in the ignition, listening to the engine purr. Turning on the AC, I quickly dialed my mother’s number, letting her know that I’m heading back to Marissa’s. I pulled off of the crowded street, heading towards Marissa and Noah’s house.

<<>><<>> 

“You’re like a dead body,” I hissed as I dragged Chloe towards the house. She was awake but barely able to walk. Even though she isn’t my favorite person, I hope she’s okay. She probably doesn’t have alcohol poisoning but that doesn’t mean that she won’t be getting up later tonight and vomiting.

I managed to lay her on the couch before I went back to grab Dana. Once I grabbed the tall girl, I sighed in relief. She was a little less drunk and a little lighter than Chloe. She was able to move her feet so I didn’t have to hold her weight. I laid her on the other section of the couch, praying that she doesn’t roll off of it. I went back to the car for Marissa only to see her leaning over the trashcan in front of the house, vomiting. I held back a gag at the retching sound and went back for Floyd.

The guy is tall, at least 5’11” but he’s not as tall as Noah. He may be heavier though. His arms draped over me as I pulled him from the car. He muttered nothings as I carried him towards the house, dropping him on the recliner. I leaned on the back of it as I breathed heavily. Just one more to go. On my way out, I noticed Marissa coming towards the house, her eyes narrowed thanks to the motion detector light. She winced at the bright living room light and quickly flicked it off. Offering me a smile, she disappeared into the bathroom, probably to take some aspirin.

Noah was in the passenger’s seat, sipping his drink quietly. I sighed as I opened the door. “Can you stand up on your own?”

Attempting to get up, he fell, hitting his back on the car door. Swearing loudly, he winced and arched his back in pain. He dropped the half-filled cup and I sighed. I slammed the car door shut as he moved out of the way, locking it. I doubt he’d appreciate his car getting stolen. I swung his arm around my shoulder and led him to the living room, struggling to find an open area for him. Marissa was already sprawled on the other part of the sectional sofa.

I groaned loudly as I looked around. “I can get upstairs.”

“I doubt it,” I muttered under my breath in response to Noah. “Come on.”

I led him towards the stairs, listening to his drunken laughter as he stumbled up the steps, effectively making me stumble with him. As I reached the top, I groaned at the pain in my back. I led him towards his room, opening the door and walking towards his bed. I immediately let go of him. He didn’t fall like I expected him to. Instead, he remained standing. He wrapped his arms around me and I sighed. “Noah, you can drop. Your beds right there.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m hugging you.”

I furrowed my eyebrows as I slowly returned the hug. The fluttering of my heart luckily went unnoticed by him. “Thanks.”

“N-no problem,” I told him. He let me go and I stumbled backwards.

“Are you sure you aren’t drunk?” he told me with a smirk on his lips.

“Shut up, you…you loser,” I muttered under my breath.

“Whatever you say, dork,” he responded as he dropped into his bed with a yawn. I closed the door on my way out, exhaling heavily as I did so.

He is going to be the death of me; well, either him or heavy lifting.