6
SOPHIE
I wishedI could tell you the exact moment I fell in love with Noah Kincaid, but I guess that it was much like everything else in my life—sudden and out of my control.
One day, he was just Noah, just my best friend, and the next one, I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, and his lips were the only thing I could think about. I could talk about a thousand other things I loved about him, but the one that was starting to make me really pissed was his determination to get things he wanted.
No one would ever say that he was a quitter, and as I exited my house two days after that day from hell, he stood there on our front porch, leaning against the fence.
“What in the fucking fuck are you doing here?”
He wasn’t at school for the last two days, or at least I didn’t see him. I thought that the whole “I miss you speech” was just a way for him to sleep better at night.
Apparently, I was wrong.
“I’m taking you to school.” He said it matter-of-factly as if we did this every day.
We used to, I wouldn’t lie, but it felt as if that happened in a previous life and not this one. On those days when he would take me to school, I would allow myself to pretend that the way he looked at me meant more than just friends. I allowed myself to daydream for those ten minutes we drove all the way from our home to reality, because I knew, somewhere deep in my heart, he would never be mine.
I’d spent countless nights crying myself to sleep, breaking my own heart over and over again, because the universe and I both knew that I would never tell him how I felt. It ate me alive. I’d mastered the art of pretending to be happy for him every time he brought a new girlfriend for me to meet. I’d mastered the art of a fake smile and a cheerful voice, while my heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces, only to be mended back together by itself, because I had no other choice but to be happy for him.
And every time he hugged me, I clung to him just a little bit longer, a bit tighter, because I never knew when would be the last time I would be able to do just that.
I guess I always knew that we weren’t meant for happy endings. Some people had tragedy engraved on their bones, and no matter what, they could never run away from it. But somewhere between breaking my own heart, avoiding the truth, and smiling as if seeing him with other people didn’t make me wanna cry every single time, I realized something else.
I would rather see him happy with somebody else, than sad and miserable with me. I would rather see him live his life fully, smiling, getting everything he deserved, while I watched from the sidelines.
But somewhere between all of that, all my wishes and dreams, I also realized that I wanted more. It wasn’t his fault that his heart didn’t hold the love I wanted it to feel. I knew he cared about me. I knew he loved me in his own way, but after losing him and after… Well, everything else, I understood why people said that every single minute we had on this earth was precious.
I made it seem like I didn’t want to forgive him, but the truth was that I forgave him a long time ago. I just couldn’t go back to what we used to be, because then I wouldn’t be able to do everything I wanted to do.
I would go back to the old habit of waiting for him to wake up one day and realize that all he ever wanted, all he ever needed was right there in front of him. I hoped and hoped and hoped that one day, by some miracle, he would look at me and see the girl he could love as more than just a friend. And that there, ladies and gentlemen, was not a healthy relationship.
I would be hurting both him and me. I would be hurting him, because I couldn’t keep these things inside my chest anymore, and I would be hurting myself because the things I always wanted to have would never be the ones I would get.
“I can drive myself to school, Noah.” I wanted,no, I needed him to stay away from me. I needed to forget how it felt loving him, needing him, and looking for him in a room full of people.
I needed to train my mind and my heart to forget the fantasy I created in my head. I had to cleanse my system of him, and having him here, everywhere, was not helping.
One of my coaches once said that it takes twenty-one days to develop a habit of something, and I’d had fourteen years filled with him. Wasn’t love just that? A habit.
When you get used to the person, when your days and your nights were filled with them, you don’t really know how to rid yourself of all those expectations and all those things you wished you had.
“I know you can,” he answered somberly, straightening up. “But I still want to drive you.”
“Noah—”
“Please, Sophie. You don’t have to look at me. You don’t have to talk to me. Hell, if you want to, you can scream at me and tell me how much you hate me, but please… just let me have this.”
Invisible claws of despair wrapped around my throat, drawing blood as its sharp nails pressed against my skin. I didn’t want him to see my tears. I didn’t want him to see how much it hurt having him here, or how much I wanted to turn back time and instead of talking to him that day in kindergarten, I would have walked away. I would have kept to myself.
I also didn’t want to slip out and tell him the truth. I didn’t want him to know.
But I couldn’t rob him of this time, when I knew that soon enough, we would have none left. He would be gone, and I would stay here, left behind.
“Fine.” I exhaled, releasing the air I kept inside my lungs and took a step forward, toward him. “But you will then have to take me home as well. Bianca won’t be able to, and I’m not wal—”
“Of course I’ll take you home after school. I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.”
