Closing my eyes, I ask, “Is something going on?” I’m hoping that it won’t end with him shutting down or this turning into a fight.
“What’re you talking about?” he asks, innocently.
“You’ve been working late every night for the last month, you barely look at me or kiss me anymore andyou’re attached to your phone. You were rather aggressive two nights ago and then called mePumpkin,” I say with distaste. “And I saw you checking out the waitress last night. I’m not oblivious, Paul.”
His eyes meet mine in the mirror as he insists, “You’re due for your period soon, you’re probably just super sensitive to everything right now. We’re fine Audrey. I gotta get to work, I’ll see you tonight.”
He walks out of the bathroom before I can ask him to stay and fight for us.
Before I could correct him and tell him that I had my period last week.
The front door closes while I stand there forgetting to blink, watching my entire life shift.
An unexpected memory pulls me in.
Cheers sound from around us, as if they’d just won the World Series, instead of a community baseball tournament. My brother is sweaty as he twirls me around.
“We won Auds! We won!” he shouts before moving to hug our parents.
My heart fills with pride as I watch him and his teammates jump around, celebrating.
“PARTY AT CLARK'S HOUSE!” one of the seniors calls out, inciting more cheers from everyone.
“Auds, come on, first real high school party? Those lame freshman parties you’ve been to don’t count. Whatdayasay?” Connor exclaims loud enough that my parents can hear, his trademark puppy dog eyes flashing in their direction.
I look at my parents with a wide smile, even though I know their initial answer will be no.
They both go to protest, until a familiar figure wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry Mr. and Mrs. Mendez, I promise to take good care of Auddie.”
My stomach flip-flops. Whether from his touch or his nickname for me I can’t tell, because it's been an endless stream of butterflies with Noah lately.
Probably something to do with his three-inch growth spurt and me going through puberty.
“Okay, Noah. We’ll trust you. Have both of them home by midnight please,” my dad says, a stern look on his face as he turns to look at my brother. “You give her a drop of alcohol and you’ll be grounded for ten years. And if you have a drink, I'll hide your lucky baseball glove for the rest of the season.”
I want to shriek with excitement, but I’m afraid if I move even an inch, that Noah’s arm will drop from my shoulders. That his thumb will stop drawing circles against my skin.
My parents walk away and I’m too preoccupied with trying not to lean into Noah to say goodbye.
Connor steps away in the opposite direction. “‘Kay, small fry, we're going to change quickly and meet you by Noah’s car. Please don’t talk to strangers. I don’t need Mom and Dadkilling me because I got you kidnapped on your first night of freedom.”
Noah drops his arm and I fail to hide my pout. He gives me a slow reassuring smile and doesn’t make fun of me for being so transparent. Shimmying his body, he pulls his car keys out of his gym bag. “Do ya one better: go wait in the car, okay? We won’t be long. You can even ride shotgun. Just don’t eat my jelly beans.”
I smile up at him. He doesn’t like jelly beans, neither does Connor. But weirdly, he always seems to have a bag in his car. I like to tell myself that he does it just for me.
His fingers link through mine as he places his keys in my hand, and I know with full certainty that when I look up at him my face gives me away …
I am completely and utterly obsessed with Noah Benson.
Seven: Audrey
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - Taylor Swift
The next week passes in a blur, Paul and I are like ships passing in the night. It almost feels like he's avoiding me.
Or maybe I’m avoiding him.
I stop cooking him dinner, turning the outside light on at night, and leaving the front door unlocked for him. I stop giving, and the worst part is he doesn’t even notice. Or care.
