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“I got you a graduation present,” he says solemnly.
“I thought we said we weren’t—”
“Just open it,” he insists.
I grab the box and place it on my bed, sliding off the top cover with trembling hands.
Inside the box is a beautiful sixteen inch laptop, their top of the line one.
“Noah…what is this?” I breathe, my heart stuck in my chest at this gesture.
This computer costs money. A lot of money. Money neither of us have.
“I wanted you to have it for school. To write your stories on it…”
My thoughts turn towards my Dartmouth acceptance letter, and how this is the kind of computer for a school like that…but I push that thought away. I’ve made my decision. And there’s nothing I could ever have in life that would compare to life with Noah Fontaine
“Thank you,” I finally say in a tear clogged voice.
I know I should try and convince him to take it back, but what this gift means to me…I can’t do that.
“I love you, Noah. Forever,” I whisper to him, and he takes the computer out of my hands and sets it on the bed before pulling me into his arms.
“Forever,” he murmurs back as he holds me tightly, a shudder wracking through his body.
I don’t understand what’s going on with him, but I hold him just as fiercely, determined to give him whatever he needs to feel better.
And when we’re making love a few minutes later…I wonder why every kiss feels like goodbye.
Chapter 30
Skylar
Eighteen years old
The sound of my phone jolts me out of the restless sleep I’d fallen into.
Noah’s recent melancholic mood has been bothering me so much that even in my slumber I’m preoccupied and any little sound will do to wake me up. .
He’s been so off lately.
So off it affects the air between us, making it hold an edge of anxious restlessness that our relationship hasn’t experienced up to this point. I wish he would just talk to me. Tell me what’s on his mind. What is troubling him. Whatever it is we could fix it, together. All he has to do is share the burden with me.
Why can’t he see that?
When my phone vibrates again, I reach out for it and grab it off my nightstand, blearily glancing at it.
It's a text from Noah. Or should I say it's a picture from Noah. I click on it, frowning when I see a picture of what looks like him lying on an unfamiliar bed.
A thread of uneasiness joins the apprehension I have already been feeling.
Noah?
I type, watching the three dots on the phone as he types back.
3632 Faulkner Way. There's a party tonight. Come hang out.
I frown and try to call him, but he sends the call directly to voicemail. I recognize that address. It's Derrick’s…and Stacy's.
