Page 62 of Before We Fell

“Honestly, Brooke. I can’t tell you that because I don’t know.”

“You’re hiding something from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“But you are seeing him.”

Geez. Did I have “I lust for Noah Wilkes” painted on my forehead with glitter?

I rubbed my forehead and my fingers came back clean.

“We’re something,” I told Brooke. My gaze slid to Noah and back to her. He was talking to Jordan, beer bottle in one hand, other hand shoved to his hip. His eyes were still on me, but occasionally he roamed the back yard, found Riley, watched her for a moment and turned back to Jordan.

I’d been doing the same thing. She’d been quieter today. For the longest time she stayed off to the side, completely on her own and it gave me flashbacks of the first couple weeks of school when she’d swish her feet back and forth on the bench at recess. “But keep it quiet okay? It’s new.”

“I can be quiet,” she said, loudly, and popped a chunk of cheese into her mouth.

“I like him.” Now that I’d admitted the truth, keeping it contained was impossible. “But…well, I don’t really know what’s going to happen.”

“I bet Shawn’s disappointed. I thought you two had gone out or something.”

“Yeah. Then I realized Noah had a problem with that.”

She threw her head back and laughed. And if it hadn’t been her son’s birthday, if we hadn’t been surrounded by so many people, I would have asked her how she made the parenting thing seem so darn easy.

Last night had been my first real dive into the trauma both Noah and Riley had suffered, and it was different from being just her teacher. Or her friend. Or his…whatever we were. It was serious, serious shit they were still dealing with. Near the level I remember my parents dealing with from my brother.

This wasn’t play-acting. And I had to keep that in mind, not just for Noah, but Riley too.

I woke up this morning, still feeling Riley’s screams ringing in my ears.

“I’m going to shoot you!” A line of boys, screeching at their maximum outside-level volumes ran by and I pushed back at the last second from face-planting into her 7-Up sherbet punch as Brooke laughed.

“Boys,” she muttered and shrugged. “They’re so weird.”

She was not wrong.

“Oh, but I do like the look of the one headed our way,” she said and winked. “Which means I’m out of here. Have fun!” She grabbed a couple of crackers and I didn’t have to look to know who was headed our way.

I had a direct line to anywhere Noah was all day.

He stepped to the table and took a plate, loading it up with chips. “Please tell me I’m not expected to throw a party like this for Riley.”

It was then I saw his eyes. Glassy. Awed. No, more like horrified.

A very unfeminine snort fell from my throat. “You’re scared?”

“More like overwhelmed. It’s so damn loud out here.” He glanced around the yard where at least six boys were making the wooden playset their battle area. Girls on the swings kicked their legs in the air, yelling at them to get away, and past that, Riley was watching, standing in line for her turn on the trampoline, where only one child at a time was allowed.

At least I hoped she’d take her turn.

“They’re kids. Did you expect them to sit quietly and read books all day?”

He flashed me a look that said that was exactly what he’d been hoping for and I shook my head. Men. They were just as weird as boys.

“And no, you don’t have to do this. Not all kids have birthdays, Brooke and Andrew just know a lot of people.”

Noah stepped closer to me. His arm reached for more food on his plate, and it was totally innocent. But his arm brushed against mine and by the look he flashed me, he’d meant to.

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