I felt sick as we drove through the towns and forests in Massachusetts. We’d made great time through Connecticut and finally arrived near Boston, following the directions to Harvard University. I could hardly even think about how gorgeous the river looked when we drove past it, or how we were right by Fenway Park, or how quaint the redbrick buildings were.
I checked my makeup in the mirror on the visor for the hundredth time. I’d insisted we put the roof back up on the car so that my hair wouldn’t be a total mess when we arrived at Noah’s dorm. My mascara had smudged. Had I rubbed my eye? Shoot, why wouldn’t it come off? And now I’d messed up my concealer….
“Stop panicking,” Lee told me, laughing. “You look great, Shelly.”
“I look like I’ve spent the last four days cleaning myself with baby wipes and using dry shampoo.”
“You got to shower at the motel in Missouri! And that gas station in Texas had showers.”
“We must stink.”
Lee shrugged. “Like he’s gonna care.”
“I care!”
I rooted around in my purse. I’d run through an entire pack of deodorant wipes in the last hour. The ramifications of our almost-nonstop road trip were now really getting to me. I knew I had some perfume in there somewhere….
I finally found it and spritzed myself, half choking Lee. He said, “Seriously. Stop worrying. You look just fine.”
“Just fine?” I echoed. My voice was shrill. I gulped, trying to bring the pitch of my voice back down. “I can’t look ‘just fine,’ Lee. I haven’t seen Noah in months. I’m supposed to look—I’m supposed to look fantastic. I’m supposed to look sexy and gorgeous and effortlessly pretty and—”
“And not have lipstick on your teeth?”
“Shoot.” I snapped the visor back down and bared my teeth before turning to glare at Lee. He couldn’t hold back his laughter as I smacked his arm. “That wasn’t funny! Can’t you see I’m having a crisis here?”
“Oh, you’re having a crisis? What about me? Spare a thought for your poor old best bud, who’s going to be bunking on some stranger’s floor so you and my brother can have some quality time to yourselves.”
“Noah told you, you can have Steve’s bed.”
“I really don’t need to be across the room while you two are making out and spooning in bed.”
I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t argue with him. Was it really so bad that I was kind of glad Lee had refused the offer so Noah and I could have some space? Alone? It made me feel like a terrible best friend, but I was so desperately excited to see Noah I couldn’t really care.
Although, now I was less desperately excited and more just…plain desperate. I was stinky and bedraggled from all the travel. My hair was stiff—probably from using way too much dry shampoo. I’d eaten pretty much nothing but junk food for the last few days, so I felt as disgusting as I was sure I looked.
And I just knew that when I saw Noah, he’d look as hot as ever.
Nerves started to coil in my stomach as we got closer to campus, but not so much over the way I looked anymore. What if Noah had changed? When he’d first come home after going to college, he’d started growing a beard, he’d switched up his wardrobe to be more mature-looking, and he’d given up his stupid habit of smoking cigarettes, so he smelled different, too.
What else would have changed since I last saw him?
I knew my fears were totally irrational. We video-chatted a lot. We sent pictures. I knew what he looked like.
But…
I couldn’t let go of the nagging worry that there would be something unfamiliar about him, that this time it might be like meeting a stranger. Maybe, despite all the phone calls and texts, things wouldn’t be the same between us.
I had shredded a Kleenex into confetti by the time Lee finally drew the car to a stop.
We were here.
“Hey,” he murmured, reaching for my hands. I met his gaze and bit my lip as his warm blue eyes softened and his mouth pulled into a gentle, encouraging smile. “Relax. Okay?”
I nodded, then followed Lee as he got out of the car. Noah had text us with instructions on how to get to his dorm, and I was only half aware of Lee tapping at his phone on the walk. He was probably telling our parents we’d arrived safely.
I looked around but still took nothing in. All I could focus on was how awful I probably looked, and my growing dread that Noah would open the door to his room and the chemistry between us would suddenly be nonexistent.
A brick building loomed over us that I recognized from photos Noah had sent me. I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes for a second, hooking my hands around Lee’s arm.
“Well, well,” called a voice, “look what the cat dragged in!”
My eyes snapped open.
And there he was.
Noah. My boyfriend. Tall and broad and swooshy-haired, wearing a red flannel shirt over a tight white T-shirt that showed off his toned torso and abs. He wore distressed jeans and his ridiculous big boots that I loved so much—that were so quintessentially Noah. He beamed at us and waved. He’d shaved his beard off completely. I could see the glint of his bright blue eyes, the dimple in his cheek.
And just like that, I let go of Lee, dropped my bags (and my dignity right along with them), and ran at Noah.
He caught me and lifted me into the air as I flung myself at him. His lips met mine before either of us could say another word. I was glad I’d spent the last hour popping Tic Tacs. Noah’s arms curled tightly around me and he set my feet back on the ground, his lips still not leaving mine.
“You guys are disgusting!” Lee yelled. “Shelly, I’m not carrying your bags for you.” I knew he would, though.
My fingers knotted in Noah’s hair and we pulled apart to catch our breath.
“Hi,” I whispered.
“Hi,” he murmured back, and kissed me again. He only stopped when Lee, now standing beside us, cleared his throat. He dropped our bags to give Noah one of those brief one-armed guy hugs with plenty of pats on the back.
“How was the drive?” Noah asked, collecting my duffel bag from the ground before I could protest.
“Which part?” Lee laughed. “And, hey, what’s the deal, you’re not offering to carry my bag? I’m your little brother. How dare you pick some girl over me.”
“I’ll carry your bag, Lee,” I told him.
“I thought you were a star football player now,” Noah shot back, smirking. “All macho-macho. Carry your own bags!”
“I never used the word macho-macho.”
“Someone did.”
Lee glowered at me, pouting, but I held up my hands. “Hey, wasn’t me.”
“Oh, it definitely was,” Noah said.
I swatted his arm. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Always, Shelly.” Noah winked at me, and I felt my heart somersault enough times to win gold at the Olympics. Lee had called me Shelly for as long as I could remember, although I hated it when other people did. But when Noah called me Shelly, there was always something teasing about it, something…something that made my stomach fill with butterflies.
I hopped up onto my tiptoes long enough to peck him on the cheek and slipped my hand into his as the three of us walked toward the dorms. Noah told us that Amanda’s roommate had gone home for spring break at the last minute, so Amanda was going to bunk with a friend and let Lee have her room while he was here. Noah led us there first, and as we walked we made plans to meet for dinner that evening. Amanda, obviously, would be joining us.
Predictably, Amanda enveloped me in a huge hug when she saw me. With an excited squeal she said, “Hi! Oh, it’s so great to see you again! How was the trip? Noah showed me the pictures. It looked amazing. How was Hamilton? Lee! Get in here!” She let me go so she could hug Lee, too, while still asking us questions and barely taking a breath, let alone giving us space to answer her. Amanda was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. She was wearing yoga pants and a soft pink sweater with equally soft fuzzy pink slippers. Her blond hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup. She didn’t need it. I could see her freckles. I swear she got cuter every time I saw her. And I’d forgotten how great her British accent was. She made it impossible to dislike her.
She took Lee’s bags and summoned us inside, listening attentively as we talked about the show, the sunset and the Statue of Liberty, the funniest moments from the drive, and how great our impromptu stop in Missouri had been.
While we chatted, Noah flung himself into a desk chair. He rocked back dangerously far and propped his feet up on the edge of the desk. Amanda walked over to push his feet off the desk and prop up the chair before he fell, her eyes and smile still on us as Lee hunted through his bag. I was glad Lee was talking; I would’ve faltered. The action looked so familiar, so normal for them—totally second nature—that it threw me. It was exactly the way Lee and I acted.
I looked around the room as Lee launched into the epic retelling of his pie-by-state comparisons (Pennsylvania was currently on top, but we had yet to have pie in Massachusetts). Amanda’s dorm room was exactly what I’d pictured. It looked like something out of a catalog. There was a sprawling leafy green plant on a shelf over the desk and a fern beside the bed. A thick gray knitted throw was draped artfully over the foot of the bed on a white comforter. It complemented the pink pillows. Even her laptop cover was pink. Her books were organized by color, and there was a cream-and-gold tapestry on the wall. Her roommate’s side had more greens and blues, but it was equally pristine. Her books were organized alphabetically.
It was like Amanda had looked up “cute dorm rooms” on Pinterest and pulled one of the rooms straight out of her phone.
I hated how much I loved it.
I was checking out a snow globe of Edinburgh when Amanda said, “Have you ever been?”
“Huh?”
“To Scotland? Or, well, any of Britain?”
“No. I’ve, uh, I’ve never been to Europe. Never been to the East Coast before, either.”
“Next spring break,” Lee told me, “we’re going to Europe.”
“If you do, you absolutely have to go to Barcelona. It’s just divine. There’s so much culture. And the art there…They have an entire Dalí museum. Have you ever seen any of his work?”
I stole a glance at Lee, who looked every bit as lost as me. Noah just shrugged. I’d seen on Instagram that Amanda followed a lot of art galleries and went to museums and stuff, but I didn’t remember her talking like this over Thanksgiving. (Although, admittedly, I’d spent most of Thanksgiving thinking she’d stolen my boyfriend and trying to ignore her.)
Amanda noticed the awkward silence and said quickly, “It’s a gorgeous city. There’s really something for everyone.”
“Speaking of something for everyone—” Lee dug through his bag, pulling out a big box of fancy chocolates. “My mom got me this to give you. To say thanks for having me, you know.”
Amanda took the box, saying a sincere thank you, how thoughtful, how kind.
“We should kick these guys out one evening and have a girls’ night,” she told me with a grin. “And eat our way through this with a trashy movie.”
Weirdly enough, that sounded kind of great.
As disconcerting as it was for me to know Noah had a close female friend (close friend period, really) and as conflicted as I felt about Amanda sometimes, I had to admit: she was pretty cool. Not only was she easy to like, but she was the kind of person you wanted to like you back.
Noah got up and slid his arm around my waist. His touch was electric. The rest of the world seemed to fade to gray, and all I could think about was his arm on me, even through my T-shirt and jacket.
“Well, we’re gonna head out of here,” Noah said. “Lee, buddy, you desperately need to take a shower. Meet you guys downstairs at six for dinner?”
We’d just about made it to Noah’s room before I caved and grabbed him for another kiss.
God, I’d missed him.