“Can I help whoever’s next?” I called out giddily. “I’m open over here!”
“Okay. What is up with you?” Ryan asked. He fired up the espresso machine behind me, talking over one shoulder as he worked the levers.
“I’m just in a really good mood,” I said as I went to get a blueberry muffin for my next customer.
“That much is clear,” he replied. “Your face looks like it was polished with Pledge. The question is, why?”
I picked up the muffin with some wax paper. “Actually, I have you to thank for it,” I said, gesturing with the muffin. Some of the crumblies on top went flying, and a few sprayed him in the face. “Oops. Sorry.”
“I’d like another one, please,” the woman who had ordered the muffin said flatly. “Those crunchy things are the best part.”
“No problem!” I told her, slapping the muffin onto the back counter and grabbing another. Maybe I’d eat the rejected one myself later. I’d been a bottomless pit all week long.
Ryan laughed and shook his head at me. “Why are you thanking me for your current manic state?”
“Well, if you hadn’t taken my shift on Saturday, then I never would have gone on that date, and if I hadn’t gone on that date, he wouldn’t have kissed me, and if he hadn’t kissed me, I would not be in this manic state, as you call it.”
Ryan looked at me as if I’d just told him that his mother died. All the playful mirth completely disappeared.
“What?” I demanded.
“What date?” he asked. “Who kissed you? Zach? You didn’t get back together with that man-whore, did you?”
I laughed at the image of Zach as a man-whore and placed the muffin into a bag.
“No, I did not get back together with the man-whore.” I whispered the last word, then I poured a coffee for Muffin Lady and handed her the finished order. “Three dollars, please!” I trilled.
“Then who was it?” Ryan asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and hovered behind me. “And this had better be good, because I missed SpringFest because of you, and if my bandmates’ hangovers are any indication, it pretty much kicked ass.”
Muffin Lady and I exchanged a wary look as I handed back her change. Uh-oh. Was he mad at me? I slammed the register drawer closed and turned to face him.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just wondering who this random guy is that I haven’t even heard about, who is apparently reaping the rewards of my double shift,” he said.
I smiled at Ryan, touched. “That is so sweet.”
“What’s so sweet?”
“You’re mad because I didn’t tell you about him. You’re right. I should keep my friends more in the loop.”
Ryan stared at me. “Yeah. That’s why I’m mad.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” I said. “His name is Trent, and he’s an amazing guy. I mean he’s, like, an old soul, you know? He’s into the environment and art, and he’s hoping to go to Princeton. Anyway, he wanted to take me to this art exhibit at your school, and that was why I couldn’t work on Saturday.”
“Unbelievable,” Ryan said, shaking his head and turning away.
“What? I’m sorry you missed SpringFest, okay? You didn’t have to cover for me if you wanted to go that badly,” I told him.
“It’s not that!” he said, huffing a sigh. “It’s just…a new guy? Already?”
I blinked and picked up a rag to wipe down the counter. “I know it’s a little fast, but—”
“A little?” he cried. “Noelle, you are just setting yourself up to get slammed all over again.”
My heart dropped, and I looked away, pretending to be very intent on counter cleaning. “Why are you so freaked about this?” I asked, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “It’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t think you do,” Ryan told me, lifting his hands. “Rebound relationships can be really messy, Noelle. Especially when you don’t know the guy that well.”
He’s just concerned, I told myself. And he’s sweet to be concerned. I just wished he wasn’t so adamant about it. And loud. I could have done without the loud. Still, I smiled as I looked up at him.
“What?” he said flatly.
“You. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you,” I told him, whacking his hip lightly with the rag. “And it’s nice of you to care, really. But I’m fine. And I do know Trent.”
Ryan’s jaw clenched; I could see it popping out his cheek. “Yeah? How long have you known him?”
“A week and a half?”
Ryan threw his hands up.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t know him!” I protested. “I swear, Ryan, now I can see all the compromises I made while I was dating Zach. I mean, who knew there were such mature, caring, artistic, deep guys out there?”
Ryan’s nostrils flared slightly and he raised one hand. “Uh, I did,” he said.
I laughed and shoved him away before turning to meet a couple of kids from school who had just stepped up to the register. Of course Ryan knew there were great guys out there. Being such a catch himself, he probably dated nothing but great guys. But for me Trent was a revelation and at the moment I just felt lucky that I was getting to know him.
And if Ryan was truly my friend, he should shut up and be happy for me.
Friday night I sat in the family room at Trent’s house, cuddled into his side as he chuckled at The Philadelphia Story, some ancient black-and-white romantic comedy he had insisted on renting. I always thought it would be cool to watch one of these oldies—like it would make me feel cultured or something—but all this movie did was make me sleepy.
I mean, Katharine Hepburn was great, but I just could not figure out why all these men wanted her. Her character was so shrill and kind of cold. And—oh, God—they were singing again. A lot of singing for a non-musical…
Trent laughed, and my eyes popped open. I sat up a bit, embarrassed. I hadn’t even realized I had dozed off.
“This movie is so hilarious,” he said, reaching for the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Sure,” I said, forcing a smile. The moment he turned away, I hid a yawn behind one hand. When was this thing gonna be over already?
“Oh, God. You’re bored, aren’t you?” Trent asked, catching me in the middle of my next, much bigger, yawn.
“No! No,” I said. “I just…I guess I’m used to romantic comedies being a little…shorter.”
“Aw, you just have to develop a taste for it,” Trent said, putting a hand on my knee. “Jimmy Stewart was a comic genius.”
He’s no Steve Carell, I thought.
“Just give it a shot,” Trent wheedled. “It’s almost over anyway.”
“Okay,” I said with a reluctant smile.
His enthusiasm was kind of cute. I sat up straight and pulled my legs up under me, resolving to stay awake for the rest of the movie. Clearly Trent liked this stuff, and that’s what couples did for each other—tried to appreciate the things the other person liked.
When Trent laughed, I laughed, too. I had entirely missed some joke, but I didn’t want him to think I was totally lame. What was wrong with me? I was a smart girl. I couldn’t get a little 1940s comedy?
Soon enough the movie was winding to a close, and Katharine was marrying not the guy she was engaged to and not the guy she had flirted with throughout the movie, but Cary Grant, her first husband, whom she had tossed out of her house in a rage at the very beginning of the film.
“See? Wasn’t that romantic?” Trent asked, turning toward me.
Uh, no? I thought. But I told him, “If you say so.”
He encircled me with his arms, and I leaned my chin on his shoulder, looking up at him. He was so cute. And his skin was absolutely perfect. I wondered if he got that from his vegetarian diet.
“All right, so you’re not into the classics,” he murmured. “I have to say, I’m disappointed. I was kind of hoping that would get you into a romantic mood.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said, lifting my head. There was that adorable frankness again.
He shrugged and smiled. “Guess I’ll just have to do that myself.”
My heart flipped over as he touched his lips to mine. He ran his fingertips down my cheek, and I felt these tingles all over my body again. I turned on the couch so that I could lay both my legs across his and drew him as close to me as possible. My pulse pounded in my ears as I grabbed at his T-shirt. It was like I couldn’t get close enough. I never wanted to let him go.
Trent’s kiss was so passionate, so searching, it made me want to melt. Kissing Zach had never been like this. Not even in the beginning. At least, I didn’t remember its ever being like this. Which made me wonder, had Zach and I ever been in love? If kissing could feel this good, and it had never felt this good with him, how could it have possibly been love?
And if it wasn’t love with Zach, did that mean that this was love?
I pulled away from Trent abruptly, gasping for air. Suddenly I felt confused and muddled and totally dizzy. Trent choked in a surprised breath. His chest heaved up and down under my fingertips.
“Sorry. Did I bite you or something?” he said, holding on to my other hand in my lap.
“No. No,” I said with a laugh. I shook my head, trying to clear it. “I just got a little…overwhelmed.”
Trent nodded. “Me, too. Kissing you is like—”
“I know,” I said.
“You do?”
“Oh, yeah,” I told him.
Trent smiled. “Cool.”
Then he leaned in and kissed me again, pressing me back into the couch. Forget Zach and love and where this was all going. For now Trent was right. This was cool. Definitely, definitely cool.
As I drove home from Trent’s, I sang along to the radio at the top of my lungs. All sorts of emotions were swirling around inside me. One minute I was giddy, thinking of Trent’s kiss. The next I was depressed and guilt-ridden, thinking of Zach and questioning whether I had ever loved him. How could I betray three years of absolute certainty with him by doubting it now? Seconds later I was hopeful and happy again. I was going from smiling and laughing and singing, to almost crying and choking on the words, to smiling again.
If anyone had seen me, they definitely would have called a psych ward.
So you can imagine what my heart did when I pulled onto my street and saw Zach’s Xterra parked at the curb in front of my house. I nearly drove right off the road and into Mrs. Splete’s rhododendrons.
What the hell is he doing here? I wondered, somehow managing to pull my car into the driveway and not slam into the rear bumper of my mom’s Saab.
I shifted into park and stared out the window. Zach was just standing up from the doorstep. To complicate matters, he looked drop-dead gorgeous. He was wearing the blue ribbed sweater I’d given him for his birthday.
Okay, just be strong. Whatever he says, do not get emotional. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
I opened the car door and paused. My legs were shaking.
“Hey,” he said, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He actually looked tentative. My confident, cocky boyfriend looked tentative.
Ex-boyfriend.
“Hi.” I managed to close the car door behind me.
“Where’re you coming from?” he asked, glancing at my car.
Unbelievable. Keeping tabs? “Why are you here?” I asked him.
“Noelle, I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes steady as he took a few steps toward me on the front walk. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I was never remotely interested in Melanie, okay? It was all just…stupid.”
Wow. On a sincerity scale of one to ten, this apology was headed directly for the two-hundred range. I’d never seen him stare at me like that.
“I love you so much, Noelle,” he continued. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He was right in front of me now, and he looked even better close up. He’d let a little stubble grow out on his chin, which he knew was the sexiest thing in the world. He reached out and took one of my hands gently in his.
“Let’s just forget this ever happened, okay?” he said, ducking down to meet my gaze. “We’ll go to the prom together like we were supposed to. Everything can go back to normal.”
Normal. God, I loved the sound of that. Normalcy was my thing. Normalcy, familiarity, predictability. I looked up into Zach’s hazel eyes as I had done a million times before, and I felt myself start to cave. It would feel so good just to fall into those arms. The arms that had belonged to me for three straight years. What had I been thinking when I doubted that I ever loved him? This was my Zach. And, yeah, maybe he’d said some harsh things to me, but I’d said harsh things right back to him. And he was practically begging. That couldn’t have been easy for him and his macho-man ego.
But do you really want to deal with that ego again? I asked myself. Especially when I had Trent—sweet, attentive Trent—who actually listened to me and respected my opinions? Trent, whose incredibly intense kiss was still lingering on my lips?
“Whaddaya say?” Zach asked with a smile, lifting my hand and entwining our fingers together. “Be my girl again?”
Part of me wanted to say yes. Yes, yes, yes. But when I thought about the heart-wrenching pain of the past couple of weeks, I hesitated. And Zach saw it. He knew me that well.
“What?” he said, his face falling.
“It’s just…I’m kind of seeing someone,” I answered, biting my lip. “You know…Trent Davis?”
Zach dropped my hand and took a step back. “You’re gonna throw away three years for that junior? What does he have that I don’t have?”
Everything inside me shut down. Zach couldn’t have done a better job of exhibiting his faults if he tried. He was so condescending sometimes, so judgmental. And such a sore, sore loser.
Everyone has flaws, of course. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t known about Zach’s forever. But now I didn’t have to deal with them anymore.
“I’m sorry, Zach. I…I’m going to have to think about this,” I told him.
Zach took a deep breath. For a split second I was sure he was going to shout at me, and I braced myself, but instead he shook his head and looked at the ground.
“If that’s what you need,” he said finally. “You know where to find me.”
I sighed. “Thank you,” I told him. I started past him but paused. “And for the record, I’m really sorry for those things I said to you at the party that night.”
Zach looked up at me. I had never seen him so vulnerable. “Me, too, Noelle. Really sorry,” he said.
“Thanks.”
Then I turned and walked into my house, a little dizzy, a lot drained, and more confused than ever.