Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
The thought has a whimper pulling from deep in my chest, and I find myself inching back to my car, settling into my seat, and closing the door behind me, unable to take my eyes off him.
Sooner or later, I’m going to have to break his heart, and he’s going to crumble like he’s never crumbled before. Hearing my diagnosis is going to destroy him, and despite not knowing many details about the severity of my cancer yet, I know he’s going to think the worst.
Pressing the push start button, I prepare to back out of my spot before my hands fall into my lap, and I find myself just watching him. He’s almost at the entrance of the hall, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what my life with him would have looked like next year. Only . . . I suppose I’ll be trading class rooms for clinical rooms. I still remember all the poking and prodding with needles, the intense chemotherapy that made me violently ill, but it’s so much worse now that I understand what’s truly at stake.
Noah’s group disappears into the hall, only he hangs back, pulling his phone out of his pocket, and a moment later, his name is in block letters across the dashboard of my car, the soft sound of his call ringing through Bluetooth.
He stands under the lights of the building, and I see him so perfectly, just taking him in that I almost miss the call, but I can’t bring myself to let it ring out. “Hey,” I say, forcing a smile across my face as the tears continue tracking down my cheeks.
“You good?” he asks, his whole body stiffening, reminding me of what he said in his car last week, how he’s able to tell I’m crying by nothing more than the sounds of my uneven breathing.
“I will be,” I tell him, not wanting to lie, not about this. “When do I get to see you next?”
“Babe,” he says, his tone shifting. “That was the worst subject change I’ve ever heard. It wasn’t even a little subtle.”
“Hey, I never claimed to be subtle.”
He laughs, but the sound is forced. “Zo?” he prompts.
“It’s been a rough night,” I admit. “But I’m going to be okay. I don’t want you worrying about it.”
“Right, because that’s possible.”
“Really,” I insist. “I’m on my way to Hope’s place. We’re going to have a movie night with popcorn and ice cream. Who knows, I might even find a bong hidden under her bed.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” he tells me, digging his hand deep into his pocket as he leans back against the wall of the massive building. “I let the whole joint thing slide last weekend, but that’s it. After I had to carry your ass the whole way home while you sang Taylor Swift at the top of your lungs, I’m calling it on your little experimental phase. Can’t you disappoint your parents some other way?”
I shrug my shoulders, despite knowing he can’t see. “I mean, Mom found that box of condoms in my side drawer.”
I watch as his face falls. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re fucking lying.”
“Would I lie about the practice of safe sex?”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Your father’s going to eat me alive.”
I laugh, wiping my face and realizing the steady stream of tears has finally begun to ease. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Just heading out to dinner with the team. It was supposed to be just me and a few of the guys, but Coach thinks we need to bond a little more, so it turned into a mandatory team dinner,” he explains. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he quizzes us on our knowledge of each other right in the middle of our meals.”
“In that case, maybe I need to start texting all of your most embarrassing secrets to all of your teammates.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he says as a brilliant smile crosses his face, one he reserves only for me.
“Wanna bet?”
Noah scoffs, knowing damn well that every secret we’ve ever shared is safe between us. “Hey, listen,” he says. “I have a game on Friday night here in our stadium, and I was thinking, if you don’t have too much schoolwork, you’d wanna come? Kickoff isn’t ’til seven, so you’d have plenty of time to get here after school.”
“Noah McLoveOfMyLife Ryan, why do you sound like a thirteen-year-old kid asking a girl out for the first time?”
“Just tell me you’re coming to my game.”
I laugh, a smile stretching right over my face, realizing that for the first time since leaving my place, it’s so much easier to breathe. “I’d love to.”
“Good, saves me from having to come home and drag your ass back here kicking and screaming.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I challenge.
He scoffs. “Wanna bet?” he says, mimicking my earlier comment, and damn it, I know he would. There’s nothing he loves more than having me up in the stands watching him play, and honestly, there’s nothing I love more than being there.