“Yeah, sure,” he mutters. Shannon ignores his obvious foul mood and starts talking fashion to me. I’m half listening and half watching Noah fight his own conscience.
“…I think it’s in the spare bedroom. Give me a sec.” She jumps to her feet and runs out of the room.
I stand up and walk toward him, knowing I have a good few minutes before Shannon comes back.
“You can’t stay here.” His voice is strained as he holds his arms out, preventing me from getting any closer. “God, Zara, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what I know you want,” I whisper. I push his hands away too easily. If he really doesn’t want this he would be putting up more of a fight. I reach up, my hands snaking around his neck.
Leaning into him, placing my mouth just outside his ear, I whisper, “It’s a shame. I really like Shannon. If you ever call it quits with her, you just let me know.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he snarls, affected by me being so close, yet, in a way, appalled that I’ve invaded his home. Even though I’ve been here before, his mood’s not the same. As he pushes my shoulders back, forcing me away from him, he glances up at me, almost apologetic. I know the feeling. This would have all been a lot easier had I not had any conversation with Shannon. Karly deserves justice, but hurting another person, another woman, in the process seems cruel.
I step away as Shannon walks back into the room. Her arms are full of clothing and scrapbooks. She dumps them on the floor and sits down, oblivious to the tension between Noah and I. Noah steps out of the room while Shannon and I go through her books. She’s good. I mean, she’s really good. The dresses she’s designed—I can’t understand why she’s mentoring college students and doesn’t have some kind of fancy boutique in the city. If I ever wanted to get married, I’d want her to design my dress.
“Shannon, these are wonderful. You really should do something with this. You have a talent not many people have,” I tell her, honestly.
“I’ve wanted to for a long time, but life kind of got a hold of me. Never really got back into it. Figure, as long as I have the talent, I should at least share it with someone, you know?”
“Makes sense. You could really be something, though. When my cousin Amanda got married a few years ago, I was a bridesmaid, and I would have loved to wear one of these and not what she picked. Hell, she had a Vera dress and yours are even more beautiful than that.” Shannon blushes, pushing aside one book to open another, when Noah rounds the corner.
“I think I might head to the gym,” he mutters.
I’m sure he just wants to get out of the apartment and away from me. I really should apologize to him for this. I knew what I was doing, but all of it feels wrong. And for me to see that it’s wrong, it has to be really, really wrong.
“I should get going, too. I have classes pretty early. Would you like me to call a cab?” I ask Shannon.
“I’ll give you a ride, that’s not a problem. Thanks for coming over and looking at these designs. It’s been so long since I brought them out, I feel rejuvenated, in a way.”
“Great. It was nice meeting you, Noah.” He gives me a sideways glance before he grabs a bag from the closet and flies out the door without a second thought.
—
Shannon and I leave shortly after, chatting about dresses and fashion the entire drive back to my apartment. She really is a nice woman, but I don’t see a connection between her and Noah. She didn’t even comment on the setup he had made for her. If I noticed that the dining room was clean, the apartment smelled of a wonderful dinner, and he was wearing different clothes than he wore in class today, how didn’t she? Trouble in paradise?
Shannon parks just in front of my building, showing me her schedule for future mentoring dates. I tell her I’ll shoot her an email to confirm once I check the times I have available between school and work. Realizing it’s been a week or so since I’ve checked the mailbox, I cross the parking lot just as Shannon’s car pulls out of sight. Opening the box, I grab the few letters and sale ads and make my way to the door, flipping through a magazine.
“What the hell was that, Zara?” Noah asks, as I approach the front door. Stopping just before I collide with him, I stare up into his light blue eyes, shocked.
“I really had no idea. I’m sorry,” I answer, partially honestly. I knew exactly what I was doing, yet I’m still sorry I did it.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but it has to stop.”
“You know what, Noah? You should go. I’m sorry that you think I’m playing a game. I’m sorry that me having a crush on my teacher is a little too much for you to handle.” Too many conflicting emotions have taken their toll on me today. All this switching from being angry and hurt to apologetic and pathetic. I’m over it. All of it.
“Shit. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just don’t know what to do here, Zara. I just don’t know.”
“What do you want to do, Noah?” I ask, exasperated, wishing he would just go and let me wallow in my own misery for a little while.
“I’d like to talk for a little bit. Just talk. I said friends, but that’s all. I was your friend the other night. Do you think you could be mine for a moment?” He’s caught me off guard, and I’m not exactly sure how to answer.
“Sure.”
“I almost made the biggest mistake of my life tonight. Before you and Shannon got to the apartment.” Not understanding what he’s talking about, I think of something that a friend would do.
“Can I interest you in a drink?” I ask. He hesitates, but nods. “Dillon won’t be home for a while.”
“Your boyfriend,” he states, matter-of-factly.