The Notebook (The Notebook 1)

Thunder again. Loud. The storm in full fury, winds whipping the rain in circles.

"It's quite a storm," Noah said as he watched the drops flow in vertical streams on the windows. He and Allie were close now, though not touching, and Noah watched her chest rise slightly with every breath, imagining the feel of her body once again before fighting it back.

"I like it," she said, taking a sip. "I've always liked thunderstorms. Even as a young girl."

"Why?" Saying anything, keeping his balance.

"I don't know. They just always seemed romantic to me."

She was quiet for a moment, and Noah watched the fire flicker in her emerald eyes. Then she said, "Do you remember sitting together and watching the storm a few nights before I left?"

"Of course."

"I used to think about it all the time after I went home. I always thought about how you looked that night. It was the way I always remembered you."

"Have I changed much?"

She took another sip of bourbon, feeling it warm her. She touched his hand as she answered.

"Not really. Not in the things that I remember. You're older, of course, with more life behind you, but you've still got the same gleam in your eye. You still read poetry and float on rivers. And you've still got a gentleness that not even the war could take away."

He thought about what she'd said and felt her hand lingering on his, her thumb tracing slow circles.

"Allie, you asked me earlier what I remembered most about the summer. What do you remember?"

It was a while before she answered. Her voice seemed to come from somewhere else.

"I remember making love. That's what I remember most. You were my first, and it was more wonderful than I ever thought it would be."

Noah took a drink of bourbon, remembering, bringing back the old feelings again, then suddenly shook his head. This was already hard enough. She went on.

"I remember being so afraid beforehand that I was trembling, but at the same time being so excited. I'm glad you were the first. I'm glad we were able to share that."

"Me too."

"Were you as afraid as I was?"

Noah nodded without speaking, and she smiled at his honesty.

"I thought so. You were always shy like that. Especially in the beginning. I remember you had asked if I had a boyfriend, and when I said I did, you barely talked to me anymore."

"I didn't want to get between the two of you." "You did, though, in the end, despite your professed innocence," she said, smiling. "And I'm glad you did."

"When did you finally tell him about us?"

"After I got home."

"Was it hard?"

"Not at all. I was in love with you."

She squeezed his hand, let go, and moved closer. She put her hand through his arm, cradling it, and rested her head on his shoulder. He could smell her, soft like the rain, warm. She spoke quietly:

"Do you remember walking home after the festival? I asked you if you wanted to see me again. You just nodded your head and didn't say a word. It wasn't too convincing."

"I'd never met anyone like you before. I couldn't help it. I didn't know what to say."

"I know. You could never hide anything. Your eyes always gave you away. You had the most wonderful eyes I'd ever seen."

She paused then, lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked directly at him. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you more that summer than I ever loved anyone."

Lightning flashed again. In the quiet moments before the thunder, their eyes met as they tried to undo the fourteen years, both of them sensing a change since yesterday. When the thunder finally sounded, Noah sighed and turned from her, toward the windows.

"I wish you could have read the letters I wrote you," he said.

She didn't speak for a long while.

"It wasn't just up to you, Noah. I didn't tell you, but I wrote you a dozen letters after I got home. I just never sent them."

"Why?" Noah was surprised. "I guess I was too afraid." "Of what?"

"That maybe it wasn't as real as I thought it was. That maybe you forgot me."

"I would never do that. I couldn't even think it." "I know that now. I can see it when I look at you. But back then, it was different. There was so much I didn't understand, things that a young girl's mind couldn't sort out."

"What do you mean?"

She paused, collecting her thoughts.

"When your letters never came, I didn't know what to think. I remember talking to my best friend about what happened that summer, and she said that you got what you wanted, and that she wasn't surprised that you wouldn't write. I didn't believe that you were that way, I never did, but hearing it and thinking about all our differences made me wonder if maybe the summer meant more to me than it had meant to you. . . . And then, while all this was going through my head, I heard from Sarah. She said that you had left New Bern."

"Fin and Sarah always knew where I was--"

She held up her hand to stop him. "I know, but I never asked. I assumed that you had left New Bern to start a new life, one without me. Why else wouldn't you write? Or call? Or come see me?"

Noah looked away without answering, and she continued:

"I didn't know, and in time, the hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let it go. At least I thought it was. But in every boy I met in the next few years, I found myself looking for you, and when the feelings got too strong, I'd write you another letter. But I never sent them for fear of what I might find. By then, you'd gone on with your life and I didn't want to think about you loving someone else. I wanted to remember us like we were that summer. I didn't want to ever lose that."

She said it so sweetly, so innocently, that Noah wanted to kiss her when she finished. But he didn't. Instead he fought the urge and pushed it back, knowing it wasn't what she needed. Yet she felt so wonderful to him, touching him. . . .

"The last letter I wrote was a couple of years ago. After I met Lon, I wrote to your daddy to find out where you were. But it had been so long since I'd seen you, I wasn't even sure he'd still be there. And with the war . . ."

She trailed off, and they were quiet for a moment, both of them lost in thought. Lightning lit the sky again before Noah finally broke the silence.

"I wish you would have mailed it anyway." "Why?"

"Just to hear from you. To hear what you've been up to."

"You might have been disappointed. My life isn't too exciting. Besides, I'm not exactly what you remembered."

"You're better than I remembered, Allie." "You're sweet, Noah."