Page 96 of Finding Noah

“Hey. So, quick question: is there a reason you didn’t tell us that you were running away for the weekend?”

I bit at my bottom lip, then said, “I'm not running away. I'm just going up to Salem for …” God, the lies were getting out of hand. And the problem with living in such a small, close-knit community was that those lies were easily found out once people started talking to each other. “I wanted to—”

“Patrick says you need to reevaluate some things.”

My jaw shifted irritably. “That's … that's not entirely the truth. That's what he assumed,” I said, the words flowing easily.

“Okay,” he drawled, skeptical. “So, then … what's up?”

How much do I want to tell him?

I couldn't give him everything. He'd stop me, just as Meg tried to. But I could tell him a little. I could give him a piece of the truth.

“I've been, uh … I've been having a rough time,” I began, my mouth suddenly dry. “Just … thinking about the past, and … you know, that kind of shit.”

Dad was quiet for a minute, then grumbled with an acknowledging sound. “I can understand that. We never really, um … I dunno … we never really addressed that the way we should've.”

Always we. Never your mom.

It'd been we since they'd met.

A comfortable, warm pressure bloomed in my chest as I gave my head a gentle nod. “It's not anybody's fault, Dad. And to be fair, I've always been shitty at expressing myself and what I'm feeling. I just … need a minute. I have to … figure a couple of things out,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

“You're staying with Aunt Stormy?”

“Yeah, just for a few days. I'll be back on Monday or Tuesday morning.”

“All right,” he said. “Your mother is freaking the fuck out, but you know how she gets.”

“Yeah, Meg's freaking out too. But seriously, I'm fine.”

“I know that,” he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. “But, you know, Noah … if you're ever not fine … if you ever get tired of fighting the bogeyman on your own …”

My throat tightened as I pressed my fist to my mouth before saying, “I know where to find you, Dad.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice gruff. “Just make sure I know where to find you too. I don't need to follow you, bud. I just need to know where to look.”

“Sorry,” I felt the need to say. “I didn't mean to hide anything from you guys.”

“Nah, we're good,” he replied. “Shoot me a text when you get there. And drive safe.”

“Will do. Tell Mom to relax.”

“She'll be fine,” he said. “Love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

The line went dead, and I was left to mull over the things he'd said. Would he feel any differently if he knew what, exactly, I was doing? Dad had gotten up to his own share of mischief, but someone had always known what he was doing—even if those someones had been the nefarious kind.

Nobody but Meg knew.

She's not stupid, I told myself. If she needs to, she'll spill the beans.

But she won't need to, I insisted, even as my heart sped and my gut warned.

Maybe I should turn around, it said, but I continued to drive my way toward Salem instead.

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