“You know what? I don’t care,” he says after one of those kisses.
“About what?” My phone buzzes in my pocket, but Noah left his at home, so I’m ignoring it.
“Whatever it is you want me to do after the game next Sunday?—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. It means something to you, and that means everything to me, so if you want me to be there, I will.”
“You mean it?”
“Of course.” He doesn’t look happy so much as determined, but my heart swells.
A group of students walk in and start pointing as soon as they spot us. One of them has her phone out, like she’s about to take a picture, so I prepare to get off him and blend into the background, but Noah’s grip doesn’t loosen.
“She wants you, Noah, not me,” I point out.
“Doesn’t really matter when I just want you,” he argues.
“I’m not jealous,” I assure him.
“I might be,” he apologizes.
I smile, because I have never been this happy, but my phone plays Dallas’ ringtone.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
I get up and walk away from the table, but by then I’ve missed his call. I go to call him back, but I have hundreds of notifications and texts. A new one pops up with an Instagram comment, so I click on it and find a picture of me, Kinsey, Dallas, and Clay. I look terrible in it, covered with pimples and wearing glasses and braces, but you can tell it’s me. Kinsey went through the trouble of tagging me, and my brothers, as well as their teams, the Wolves, and Wynchester University. The photo has been liked, commented on, and shared by numbers that have a K at the end.
I’m hyperventilating, and I think I’d prefer to pass out than deal with this right now, but I need to tell Noah before he finds out on his own.
“Callahan!”
I’m halfway to Noah when Tanner, who was in line, spots him and makes his way over.
“Can you ask her about a signed jersey now, or do we still have to wait?”
My entire body stiffens. I don’t think I’m breathing. I come up with excuses and apologies to the questions Noah is about to ask, but instead he looks over to me. And he doesn’t seem shocked or confused – he looks guilty.
“Savannah, this isn’t?—”
Noah gets up from the booth as Tanner turns around and spots me. His face drops.
“I didn’t realize you were here, or I never would have…” He sighs, then puts a hand on my shoulder, as if comforting me after a loss, which really, this is. “I’m so sorry, Savannah.”
I push past him and run out the café, trying my best to block out whatever Noah is saying as he tries to stop me.
* * *
“Savannah!” Noah calls after me. “Please, wait, I can explain.”
I don’t want to stop, because I don’t want him to see me cry, but he curses and then it sounds like he slips, so I turn to yell at him that I don’t want his explanation while also making sure he’s okay. He ran after me in his t-shirt.
“You’re going to freeze to death,” I reproach.
“I don’t care about the fucking weather, I care that I hurt you, when I was just trying not to.”
“Was your plan to say all those things last night to butter me up so I’d get my brother to give you a signed jersey?” Even saying the words makes me sick to my stomach.
