‘I resented her because of it,’ Noah said. ‘I couldn’t look at her the same way. When I found stories of her on the internet, it made me feel so ashamed, so embarrassed. I wanted to run as soon as I could.’
‘Which is why you left?’
‘That’s right.’ Noah sighed. ‘Mum wanted me to finish my education, and by that point, I could see her for what she was. She was paranoid, upset, and broken. Then she went on medication for depression. I think she’s still on that, you know. But it was heavy, and I was going through my own stuff. You know, discovering that I liked men, feeling ashamed of that, but also her. I hated myself, hated this place. By that point, I was being made fun of for everything. I was too smart. A nerd. I was called posh boy, gay boy. The list went on. At one point, the tape made its way around the school. Can you believe that?’
Quinn had suffered at the hands of bullies during his own time at school, but never like that. Never like Noah. They’d gone to different schools, yet lived in the same town. Quinn wished he had known Noah then, wished he could have been his solace, his peace. Quinn had needed someone while growing up, but this made Quinn realise he hadn’t needed someone as much as Noah. It was then that he was on his feet, sitting on the edge of the table, just a few inches away from Noah, who turned towards him. Their knees almost touching. Inches away from one another, that scented perfume reaching Quinn.
‘Is this okay?’ Quinn whispered.
Noah nodded, biting his lip. Without realising what he was doing, Quinn brushed Noah’s fringe away from his face, seeing him in ways he’d never seen him before. Open; vulnerable.
‘I needed out of here, so I left,’ Noah said. He leaned into Quinn’s touch, closing his eyes as Quinn’s hand ran through his hair, resting at the back of his head. ‘I left her to deal with it. Abandoned her. I was young and selfish, and didn’t comprehend what she was going through. We didn’t speak for a few years.’
‘Do you regret it?’ Quinn asked. He knew his hand rested too long, had strayed too far. It took all his energy to drop it, to increase the distance between them. ‘Moving away to the city? Leaving this behind?’
‘No,’ Noah said, looking ashamed to say it. ‘Not wholly. I went to London and learned to love myself. Met some amazing people, and not so amazing people, but I found my voice. In London, I wasn’t Hermione Sage’s son. The world moved on in London. In London, I could be anybody.’
Noah leaned against the table, angling his body closer to Quinn’s, closing the gap Quinn had created. This time, their legs touched, and Quinn felt hot lava erupt inside him, pulsating through every nerve and fibre of his being. Every sense seemed to heighten. The warmth of Noah’s leg against his own, the smell of the paperback books, and the aroma of Noah himself.
‘And I wrote the books and then it all came out,’ Noah said. ‘People started putting two and two together. Hermione was back in the limelight, the past dragged up. People asked me questions about her like she was dead. I realised I missed her, and that the world, the media, treated her unfairly. I realised she was a victim, and she needed me. So I reached out to her and she let me back.’
‘She would let you back,’ Quinn said. ‘You’re her son.’
‘I was a pretty horrible son.’
‘You were frustrated and hurting, too,’ Quinn said. ‘You had to cope in your own way.’
Noah’s hand found his. That same large hand, larger than Quinn’s, the golden-brown hair crisscrossing along the back over blue veins and knuckles. His grip set Quinn’s heart racing, and he wondered if he was going to have a panic attack. They were close now, too close, and Quinn, aware of everything, was aware of how much higher he was than Noah. His chair was too low. It wasn’t level with the table, and Quinn wished he was level, so that he wasn’t looking down on him, meeting those green eyes with his own blue eyes.
‘You’re the first person I’ve been able to tell this to,’ Noah said. Did Quinn imagine the tightness in his voice? The slightly breathless way he uttered those words? ‘Properly tell this to. Without feeling like you’d judge me. Matty rolls his eyes at me.’
He was on his feet, still holding Quinn’s hand, but he towered above him now, a shift in the balance. His other hand was on Quinn’s knee. Quinn looked up into his handsome face. And it felt right, like they were equal, like this was how it was meant to be.
Noah’s hand left his knee, now tracing his jawline. A smile was on his face: one that was kind, one that seemed to be tinged with sadness. Quinn couldn’t move anymore. This was all in Noah’s power. That familiar feeling of time standing still came back, only this time moving slow, so that every movement, every feeling, seemed ten times longer.
‘If I had stayed, I would have met you sooner,’ Noah breathed.
Quinn could see every crease in Noah’s plump red lips. Quinn reached out, about to touch them, about to feel more of Noah than he ever thought possible. This was it. This was everything he’d craved since that winter day when Quinn first set his sights on Noah.
The door handle rattled.
Noah wasn’t there anymore. Sitting on the bed, like his last words never happened, like he had been a mirage in front of Quinn just a few moments ago.
Matty appeared at the door. He looked between them, his eyes lingering a little too long on Quinn’s flushed face.
‘I wondered where you two had got to,’ Matty said, though his voice sounded as cold as the snow that now fell outside. ‘I came to say the weather’s changing. Quinn, you might want to get back home before it’s too late.’
Quinn knew those words held a much different meaning.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
‘Have we emailed the invites for Blair’s book signing?’ Quinn asked upon returning from his father’s grave.
‘Uh … don’t think so,’ Daniel said.
‘It’s tomorrow!’
‘Yeah, I thought maybe word of mouth…’
