Breaking Noah

“I’ll try. Maybe you could get permission from the warden for a little yard time next weekend. We’ll go to the Northwestern game on Saturday or watch an NFL game at the bar on Sunday.”

“Son, one thing I need to tell you about marriage: There’s no yard time. It’s couple time. Quality time. But no alone time. Think about that before marrying this one. She reminds me of your mother when we met. Beautiful, outgoing, friendly, and then you say those vows and it’s all gone,” he jokes. Or maybe he’s serious, but I take his advice to heart. One of the many reasons I don’t want to marry Shannon. She really does remind me of my mother sometimes.

“That’s fine, Dad. We’ll find something to do that won’t cause a wave in the ocean.”

Two hours, a crappy catered dinner, watered-down drinks from the open bar, and my father’s award speech later, we’re standing back at the coat check, ready to leave for the night. I let my father know the hotel they’re staying at and grab Shannon’s things. The valet pulls my car around and Shannon and I are on our way home.

For the first time in fifteen years, I survived a dinner with my parents without wanting to murder someone. It’s a pretty good feeling. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to spend this much time with both of them for at least another two years, but it was actually nice.

Chapter 7

Zara

“What are you doing, you idiot?” Karly laughs and tosses a pillow at my head.

“I’m making sure I pass this damn exam,” I mutter. “I told you, I’m not going out tonight. If I fail, then no college.” I narrow my eyes at her and grin. “Which means no parties. I may as well give up and get a job at Chick-fil-A.”

“Oh my God, sometimes I wonder if we’re actually related.” She giggles, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder. “Well, I’m going. And if you won’t go with, I’ll make Dillon take me.”

“Great idea.” I stand up and take her arm, pushing her out of her room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I sing, winking at her.

“That doesn’t rule out much.” She giggles as I give her the finger.

—

I’m drenched in sweat as I sit up in bed. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s one in the afternoon. I’ve been asleep for nearly ten hours and I dreamed about her. I haven’t done either of those in months.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I reach for the glass of water that sits on my bedside table and take a sip. My mouth is dry and my heart is pounding. God, I miss her. There were so many things I wish I’d done. Little things, like spend more time with her. Maybe I could’ve stopped her…stopped it before it went too far.

The thing about Karly was she was all in or nothing. Her love of life was contagious, and in the last few weeks I’d watched that drain away. I’d told myself I’d be there for her after my exams, but maybe if I’d made more of an effort…

I wipe away my tears and reach for the phone. I’m surprised to see I have a message, and even more shocked at the wave of pleasure

that ripples through me. I hate that I’m finding myself looking forward to that familiar ping of my phone. I hate that I genuinely enjoy hearing from him, because I know he is not the man that I see. He’s the monster who took my cousin from me, and I need to remember that.

I read his text.

Noah: Pride and Prejudice is being performed at the theater over in Lamten tonight. You should get Dillon to take you.

I snort at the idea of Dillon doing anything for me. Everything was about him, and I was fine with that, because it gave me time to do my own thing. Like Noah.

Me: LOL, like he would ever agree to that. If it’s not football or drinking, he’s not interested. You could take me? We are friends, right?

Noah: Sure. Sounds like fun. I’ll meet you there at seven?

Me: Can you pick me up? Not sure my car can make it up there.

It wasn’t a complete lie, but my intentions have nothing to do with the reliability of my car. Him driving me meant extra time with him. Alone.

Noah: Okay. I’ll pick you up at six.

At five to six, a horn beeps outside. Dillon glances up from the sofa, his eyes glazed. I roll my eyes. Not even six and he’s drunk already. Give me a break. He’s taking this “It’s five o’clock somewhere” game a little too far. His liver is gonna be pissed when he’s an old man.

“Where are you going?” he mumbles, focusing back on the game.

“Out with a friend. I won’t be late.” If he paid any attention to me at all, he’d know that I didn’t have friends. Nobody came over. I wasn’t on my phone all the time. I never really left unless it was for a class. Excellent observation skills, Dillon. Batting a thousand.

He shrugs and I head for the door, knowing that will be the extent of our conversation. I’m shocked. It’s fifty percent more than I usually get from him.