33
Noah
A mess.That’s what I am.
Miranda might kill me. I think she has reached the end of her rope with me. Doesn’t matter anyway. Soon she’ll be free from my crutches and ineptness.
I’ll have a life now. One that doesn’t include soccer. I don’t know what that looks like, or means, but I’ll have it.
Miranda must be sick of driving me around. She didn’t complain when she loaded my suitcase into the back of the car, or shoved my crutches alongside our bags. She’s quiet on our drive now. I can’t blame her. She’s probably thinking about all the things she needs to do. She has a life too.
My good leg bounces anxiously as I check my watch. We should be somewhere over Texas by now, maybe even Louisiana.
“Thirty more minutes, Noah.” Miranda has the tone of a parent talking to a child.
I laugh. I don’t know if that’s the correct response, but my insides are jumbled and I can’t manage a sentence right now.
My heart was screaming at me long before the crackling voice came on the airport intercom system and announced our delayed flight. While Miranda went to the restroom I walked up to the counter and canceled our flight.
My heart had it right all along. I had to go back to Northmount. Ember needed me to fight for us.
The drive is excruciatingly long. At least, it feels that way. LA traffic made me want to pull my hair out. I tipped my head back, closed my eyes, and once we were through it I spent the remainder of the drive picturing Ember’s face. Finally, we make the turn onto Ember’s street. Miranda slows to a stop and parks.
“Noah,” she starts, but pauses.
“What?”
Her lips twist, like she wants to say something. She’s probably going to tell me I’m crazy, that Matt is still in the picture, that none of this makes any sense. All things I already know.
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head slowly. “Good luck.”
I nod to her and reach back, pulling my crutches with me as I get out. Miranda drives away, and I realize she didn’t ask if she should stay or go. I make my way to the front door and knock. Nobody answers. There aren’t any cars in the driveway either. I could call Ember, but I’d rather see her. I need to see her face when I talk, watch her eyes, touch her soft skin.
I wait. The afternoon sun pours onto the front porch, and soon my shirt is sticking to me. I get up, go around the front of the house, and reach over and unlatch the gate. I caught enough of a glimpse of the backyard to know there will be shade. I’m going to be here as long as it takes.
There’s a bench in the backyard, but it’s in the sun. It takes some work, but I manage to get myself settled under a large tree in the corner of the yard.
I wait. And I wait. I tip my head back against the trunk and close my eyes.
Eventually I hear voices, but it’s hard to know if they’re coming from Ember’s house or the neighbor’s. Suddenly the back door opens and Sky walks out. She sees me, jumps, and throws a hand over her mouth.
“Ember?” she yells, her voice shaking. “Can you come out here please?”
There’s a second voice from inside the house but I can’t make out the words.
Sky keeps her eyes trained on me. She looks…happy? Not exactly the response I was expecting from her.
Ember appears on the porch beside her sister, but she doesn’t see me. She’s looking at Sky. “What?”
Sky points and Ember’s gaze follows her finger. To me.
She gasps and hurries down the porch steps. I roll onto my side, reaching for my crutches.
“Don’t,” Ember yells, laughing.
I ignore her. This bum leg isn’t going to stop me from getting up and holding her in my arms.
She’s reached me by the time I make it up on my feet. Her lips part to speak, but I don’t let her. My hands hold her cheeks and I silence her words with my mouth. She clings to my waist, pressing herself against me. Her scent surrounds me, engulfing my senses. I inhale every essence of Ember. My crutches fall to the ground with a thud, and I find I can stand if I keep most of my weight on my other foot.
