AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I misjudged my connection to him as something more than it was, and maybe it was necessary to get here. We needed to scratch the itch in order to get past it, otherwise we’d always wonder.
It hurts, though.
Other girls I’ve talked to, they almost always say the same thing. Their first times sucked. They don’t remember it well, and the way they felt after was…cold. Like they didn’t mean anything to the other person.
I didn’t feel like that last night. I was nervous, but I was sure. Like he had only ever seen me.
Now, it just feels like it was all a lie, because it was all just a race. Like the truck they were supposed to share but was only ever really Kade’s.
Point Hunter. Score’s tied. The tears keep falling.
A motorbike comes whirring down the lane, the engine audible before the bike is even visible. In my peripheral, I see it speed in, sliding right and into our driveway, and I know it’s Noah without looking up.
I sit there, hoping he won’t see me. The tree’s leaves are sparse. I’m not as invisible this time of year.
But in a moment, his helmet is off and he’s peeking his head around the house. I look back down, not waving.
He walks over, one hand in his pocket, and the other clutching a clear plastic bag of what looks like cotton candy. He stops underneath the tree and looks up, but when I don’t say anything, he just jumps up to me.
Climbing the branches, he plops down on the thick one that stretches over to my room and faces me.
My voice is gravelly. “I don’t want to talk.”
“That’s okay,” he tells me. “I’m used to being the chatty one.”
I actually meant ‘I want to be alone,’ but I can’t be rude to Noah.
You’d think he’d want to move out and have his own space, but no, he loves living with a family. Even if he’s constantly getting lectured in our effort to civilize him. Mydad was about to pop a gasket when the cops came because Noah was burning trash in the backyard.
That’s when he learned that we put garbage on the curb to be collected—just like families on TV.
And my mom screamed when she walked into the garage and saw Noah draining the blood out of a decapitated deer he’d bought off one his new friends who’d gone hunting that morning. He was going to make us stew or something.
She ran, about to puke. James just dove in and helped Noah.
He loves it here. He says he still needs to be raised.
He opens his bag, pinches off some cotton candy and holds the bag out to me.
I take some. Blue’s my favorite.
I slip it into my mouth, the sugar breaking down to little granules as the taste of carnivals and festivals dissolves on my tongue. Hot sun hits my cheek for a second, and I almost smile. “That’s good.”
He nods, taking more bites and looking out at the street. He must’ve picked it up at the parade. Did he see the fight?
“I grew up surrounded by thousands of trees,” he says. “I rarely ever climbed them.”
He offers me the bag again, and I take a little more.
“People come to Chapel Peak for the mountains, the skiing in the winter, the hiking and off-roading in the summer, the scenery…”
I blink, a remaining tear spilling over. “Sounds pretty,” I murmur.
“I hated it.”
I dart my eyes up, and he chuckles.
“I like people.” He shrugs, chewing and swallowing. “I wanted neighbors, noise, culture...”
