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CHAPTER32
NOAH
I take a long deep drag of my joint, letting the high wash over me, relishing in the slight burn in my throat. I sit by the lake, sketchpad in hand, and try and replicate the smooth curve of the bank.
I’ve found myself a lot here in the past week, trying to settle my racing thoughts and my equally racing heart. Things have been…awkward between Jarred and me. It’s not like we’re ignoring each other—we are the only two people in the massive camp—but it’s not like we’ve gone back to the way things were. We’ve been taking it slow, having every meal together before I disappear into my own bubble to work through my thoughts.
He's been amazingly patient with me, always with a wide smile on his face and love in his eyes. I want to give in so badly. I want to just say fuck it and forgive him, but something is holding me back. I think I’m just scared. Scared that this is only temporary, that all the changes he’s made are superficial, that he’ll turn on me again just like he did before.
So, I smoke. I get high and I sketch and I try to ignore all my problems like a well-adjusted adult should.
But I can’t just make it all go away, not when I can hear Jarred trudging through the sand toward me. He sits down next to me, groaning as he does, and I resist the urge to smirk and tease him about his age. It feels too easy to fall back into old patterns. It feels too natural to remember our last interaction by the lake where he promised me the idea of a future.
“Hey, I was wondering where you went,” he says. “What are you doing?”
“Drawing the lake,” I say, not taking my eyes off my sketchpad. I’m liable to do something stupid like kiss that grin of his.
“Right,” he mumbles, smacking his lips. “Can I have some of that?”
I can only assume he’s talking about the joint dangling between my fingers. I give it to him without looking up. “Knock yourself out.”
He hesitates for a second before taking it out of my hands. I can hear his deep inhale and smell the smoke as he blows it out in front of him. He leans in, breath heavy on the side of my neck, and I hear the wonder in his words. “Is that us?”
Fuck. I didn’t even realizethat’swhat I was drawing. I guess my subconscious is just too strong. I’ve drawn the lake, but I’ve focused on the spot hidden by the big boulder at the far end. I hadn’t even realized I started drawing two figures in the water, their bodies close together, the tension palpable between them.
“It’s the first thing that came to mind,” I say, closing my sketchpad and tucking it away. I finally look up and my eyes zero in on the joint. “It’s puff-puff-pass, old man.”
He chuckles, and I smile at the sound. I just can’t help myself. He hands me the joint, and it seems like his fingers want to linger on my skin, but I pull back before they can. He sighs but retains that sweet smile as he stares at me. “I know I’ve said it already, but I’m so glad you’re here.”
My heart constricts because deep inside me, I know my truth. I meet his brown gaze and raise the corner of my lip. “Yeah, me too.”
“Have you looked into school yet?” he asks, calling back to when I mentioned it to him the other day, nervous about the prospect of doing it all on my own. “It’s starting soon, right?”
“Yeah, just one more week,” I say. “I still don’t know how I’m going to do it without my parents’ help.”
I haven’t spoken to them since they kicked me out. Fine. Good riddance. After processing what happened, I realized that I was better off without them and their outdated, poisonous influence. It’s hard—they’re my parents after all—but it’s for the best.
“Maybe I can help you,” he suggests, taking the joint from me after I’ve taken two hits.
I scoff. “I can’t take your money.”
“Good thing I don’t have any money to give,” he snorts. “I meant I could help you figure out some student loans. Maybe a payment plan?”
I’m grateful for that. I’ll admit that I was privileged in the fact that my parents handled that for me before. Now I’m on my own, but I could still use the help.
You’re not on your own…
“That would be cool,” I say lamely, shaking that errant thought from my head. “I appreciate it.”
“My laptop is in my cabin if you want to go now. Or if you want to keep drawing, that’s fine too. We don’t have to do it tonight. We can—”
I cut off his adorable babbling, smiling at the flush in his cheeks. He’s really nervous around me, and I get it. I haven’t really made things easy for him since I got here. But I soften because he’s still the same Jarred with the same tics. Some things just don’t change. “We can go now.”
We both stand as I stub out the joint. I wish that we were walking hand in hand, but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Although I enjoy the silence, I do want to try and make an effort, just like he is.
So, I start asking him questions ranging from how the reconstruction is going in the chapel to how he spent his morning. We talk about meaningless things, even though every piece of information fills my chest with something warm and fuzzy.
“What are you going to do now that camp is over?” I ask. I know he mentioned before that he sometimes planned events during the off-season, but I don’t know if that’s changed with the rebranding.
