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feel & strange. I went from empty inside to full all at once, and I don't know how to handle it. Noah holds
up his hands.
I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, he tells me softly and tries to smile his way through the
awkward. It works. I smile back. Let's start over. Noah takes a deep breath and sets his hands on his
knees. So, he begins. How the hell have you been? I look at Noah, practically sparkling in the fucking
moonlight, and I know I can't tell him anything real, not now, not yet. Fuck, maybe not ever. I can't tell him
that I've had sex with more men than I can count on both hands and both feet, that my family chose a
murderer over me, that the only friends I've made in five friggin' years are Lacey Setter and Ty McCabe.
Ty McCabe. I definitely can't tell him about Ty McCabe.
I'm going to school, I say vaguely because I'm used to being vague with people. It takes a lot for me
to really open up, to give out pieces of myself. I used to have no problem with that, especially when Noah
was on the receiving end, but now & Things are so different. In California. Noah is waiting patiently,
certain that I'm getting to something more relevant, more personal. He's too trusting. I wonder if I was
ever that trusting and shiver. Noah thinks it's from the cold and slips his arm around my waist, just like he
used to do when we were in high school. In fact, I get hit so hard with déjà vu that I can barely breathe. I
don't resist him even though I know I should, even though I know that I might be giving him the wrong
idea.
Me, too, he says simply. Here in town, though. I & Noah looks away from me and out at the lake.
I didn't want to leave in case you came back. Somehow, someday, I knew you would. Noah pauses. I
guess I was right. I don't respond to that. There's this unspoken phrase hanging in the air. I knew you'd
come back for me. I don't correct him, tell him that I'm actually here for myself, to put me back together
and make things right. I go for a cigarette and am not surprised to see Noah's nose wrinkle. He never liked
it when I smoked. Back then though, I only ever smoked a couple a day. Now, now I think I'd have to
consider myself a chain smoker. I just can't stop. Every stressful impulse I have makes me crazy. It's either
smoke or fuck. That's all there is to it. Noah watches me light up, but he doesn't pull his arm away. He sits
there and lets smoke taint his expensive shirt, his pretty blonde hair, his angelic face.
I got a dog, he says randomly, and I smile. An Australian Shepherd that bites. I laugh and have to
snatch at my cig to keep it from hitting the table. I slip it back between my lips and talk around it, the way
Ty always does.
What's she look like? I ask wishing I could get a dog. I think a dog would be good for me. A constant
companion, one who doesn't judge, someone that loves me for me always and forever. Yeah, I think I'll
get a dog. I'll have to move out of the dorms but whatever. I kind of hate it there anyway. I want my own
bathroom. I get this strange image of Ty and me sharing a place, maybe even having Lacey as a roommate.
There's a fireplace and a bed for two, a bed that's always full and never empty. Always full of Ty. Ty. Ty.
Ty. I shake my head to clear it.
She's mostly white with orange splotches over her eyes and gray down her back. I think you'd like her
quite a bit. She's almost as ornery as you. I chuckle again and don't tell Noah that I like mutts a thousand
times better than purebreds. I want a grungy, nasty alley dog like the Tramp from that Disney movie. I
want a dog that's been behind bars with a missing leg and a grin that doesn't stop. I want a dog whose
parents were so mixed, they were like rainbows, a bit of every color. Noah's dog, however nice, is no
doubt from some, spoiled privileged breeder who feeds her pets raw rabbit and lets them sleep on goose
down beds covered in silk. Want to meet her? he asks, and I shrug noncommittally. I don't know where
this is going, so I have to keep my options open. Maybe tomorrow I could take you out, bring her along,
and we could go for a hike along the river, like the good ol' days? His offer is too good to refuse. I want
to walk along the banks without shoes and listen to the roar of water. Yes, yes, I'll go.
Sure, I say before I can question myself. There are a lot of factors to consider here, least of which
has a nose ring and a wicked smile. My sisters won't want me to go; I won't want to leave them. But I'm
going to do it anyway because my questions about Noah Scott have not been answered. He's still a big, fat
question mark. What's her name? I ask him. Your dog? Noah laughs and shakes his head like he can't
believe he's about to say this.
It's Never, he says. Her name is Never.
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