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“Next time, mine will be farther than yours.”
“Yeah, I’d like to see you try,” I chided, bumping my elbow against his arm.
It was a gorgeous July day on the water. The sun was just hidden enough within the clouds to keep the day warm while not blinding us beneath its rays. Very few people crowded the shore, thanks to it being midday on a Tuesday, while everyone else was still at work.
I had taken off my shirt once we arrived, and Noah had done the same. It was too hot not to. But now, I was regretting it as the eyes of a couple of housewives wrangling their young kids stared in my direction. Their mouths moved in whispers to each other, their eyes peering over the frames of their sunglasses. I pretended not to notice, but Noah was less skilled in the art of subtlety, and he made no secret of his annoyed glances in their direction.
“They know Mom’s your girlfriend,” he grumbled.
“They don’t care about that. It doesn’t matter to themas long asthey just look.”
“It does matter though, right?”
I shrugged, then nodded. “I mean,Ithink so. But some people have different ideas of what’s okay and what isn’t.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s okay.”
“And that’s why you’ll get all the ladies one day. They like good guys.”
We stood there in a nearly comfortable silence, watching our lures bob in the distance. But I could hear the wheels in Noah’s head turning. I could see his brow furrowed with thought, and after a minute of watching him gnaw at his bottom lip, I finally asked what was on his mind.
He hesitated, twisting his lips to thesideand cocking his head. Then, finally, he asked, “Are youreallya good guy?”
A laugh barked past my lips. “Dude, if you have to ask, I’m doing something wrong.”
He shook his head and groaned. “No, you know what I mean. I always thought you were, but …”
I turned my head to look at him, stunned by this sudden confession. “But what?”
“But …” He sighed, his breath coming out with a tremor. “My dad … h-heknewyou.”
It had been weeks since Seth had broken into Ray’s house. Noah had been more reserved than usual,quieterand rigid. But I had assumed it was because of the things he’d seen. I’d never once questioned how he might’ve taken what he’d heard from his father’s lips.
How could I have been so stupid?
“Howdoes he know you?”
I had always assumed that, if my relationship with Noah continued, I’d eventually have to answer these questions. But I had never anticipated when or how he would ask, and so I’d never prepared myself to answer.
Part of me wanted to tell him to talk to his mom. To get whatever answers she was comfortable giving him. But then another part—a louder, more incessant part—told me to be honest with him. That hearing it from me would be better for him, as well as me, so I took a deep breath and went with it.
“I grew up in the same town as your parents,” I said. “I mean, I think you already knew that about your mom, but your dad was there too.”
Noah nodded softly, focusing on his lure bobbing in the water. Waiting for a fish to bite. “Were you friends?”
“No.” I shook my head, unable to fight my bitter chuckle. “Definitely not friends.”
“I figured.”
“Yeah, we, uh … we didn’t get along well.”
“Did you get into a fight?”
I chortled at that as I nodded. “We did actually.” Then, I turned to face him, pointing at the scar on my cheek. “Your dad gave me this quite a few years back.”
Noah’s lipsactually quirkedinto a half smile. “So,that’swhere you got that scar.”
I tipped my head with curiosity, and Noah’s smile broadened.
