BACK IN JUNE, on a particularly hot day without a scrap of white in the sky, I got a text from Noah Caraway telling me that he was right outside my house.
I immediately sprang from my bed and rushed to make myself presentable—forgoing my oversized, raggedy t-shirt and shorts and throwing on my jean cut-offs and a yellow blouse, and then hurriedly applied makeup and did a quick rinse of mouthwash before I stumbled out onto my front lawn trying to look like I hadn't been enjoying my summer lying in bed for the past four hours.
Noah was leaning against the old, silver Toyota Corolla he had used throughout high school, wearing black basketball shorts and a grey muscle tee, his dark hair covered by a baseball cap.
The sun was blindingly bright as I ventured toward him, shielding my eyes from the harsh light.
"Hey," I said as I neared him. "What're you doing here? I thought you're supposed to be leaving for football camp today."
He nodded. "I was on my way there when I passed by your neighborhood and remembered that you didn't show up to my going away party last weekend."
I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I just—I don't know. I knew I wasn't going to have that much fun because I wouldn't have known anybody there."
"You would've known me," he pointed out.
"True, but I didn't think you would've wanted to deal with me the whole time. You probably wouldn't have had that much fun with me around."
He shook his head. "No, Claire, I would've had more fun if you had been there." His eyes were locked intensely on mine, making me feel weird.
He wasn't smiling, looking serious in a way that I had never seen from him before then.
"Um, is everything okay?" I asked him, awkwardly searching his eyes for an answer. I went to drop the hand shielding my eyes from my face, but he grabbed it mid-fall and tugged me toward him by it. His other hand snaked around my waist, pressing me flush against him.
His lips were on mine before I could process the moment. I stood frozen for two seconds before I closed my eyes and melted against him in the hot sun, returning his passionate kiss with ease until the merry tune of an ice cream truck sounded down the road and pulled us apart.
I had thought about that kiss often over the months after it had taken place, but stopped thinking about it when new memories of Noah kissing me filled my head.
And we made a lot of those types of memories together.
Ever since that second kiss at work, we tried sneaking kisses whenever we could the rest of that week, both of us enjoying it far too much.
Although it was fun sneaking around and getting drunk off of his touch and attention, it started to wear on me the longer it went on.
Because I wanted more than stolen kisses in a storage closet or behind a customer's vehicle. I wanted a relationship, but I was too scared to say anything in fear of ruining what Noah and I had.
But Noah ended up being the one to say something.
I was walking to the garage to tell Dallas something, cutting through the break room when an arm reached out and grabbed me upon entering, pulling me over to the other side of the vending machine for a sliver of privacy.
Noah was kissing me before I could properly react. "You're gorgeous, you know that?" he whispered against my skin.
I reluctantly pushed him back. "Noah, you're being reckless," I scolded, though I couldn't help but smile and give him a peck on the lips before moving away.
"It's your fault," he claimed, his eyes traveling up and down my body, "you look so sexy in those pants."
I did a little spin, modeling my leggings for him. "What, these old things?" I said coyly, smirking at him.
He tried to step closer, but I moved back. "Keep your distance, lover boy."
"You're terrible."
"So are you," I short back before heading back towards the garage.
"Wait, Claire," Noah called out.
I immediately stopped in my tracks and turned to face him, because something about the way he said my name sounded serious.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Are you really okay with this? Us being messy like this?"
"Yeah," I lied.
"Claire."
"I . . ." I sighed, "I mean, I don't want to, but I think we should stop this. I don't think I want this if it's not going anywhere," I revealed, half of my mind yelling at me to shut up, but I pushed forward, because I needed him to know, and because I stupidly hoped my declaration would light a fire under him and push him in the direction I wanted him to go in.
His face was emotionless, but I could see the slight downturn of his lips and the dejection in his eyes. But he quickly bottled it all up and flashed a smile, holding up his palms. "Alright, I'll leave you alone," he said casually, and then walked out to the garage.
I gawked after him, because that was the exact opposite direction I wanted him in. I mean, didn't he know he was supposed to tell me he couldn't bare to be without me and then ask me to be his girlfriend?
I gave myself a few seconds to process and then school my face into something stoic before following him out into the garage, keeping my eyes from him as I waltzed up to Dallas standing with Mr. Mel over the engine of a minivan.
He grinned when he saw me, moving away from the man to meet me. Just seeing his smile was enough to make me forget about Noah and the break room, my body warming.
"Are you going to ask me for a dollar for a candy bar or are you going to tell me something about work?" he joked.
I matched his smile. "Well, I was going to tell you something about work, but now I want a candy bar, so . . ."
He motioned for me to follow him into the break room with the tilt of his head. I trailed after him, watching him pull his wallet out of his back pocket as I felt Noah's eyes on my back.
"I was just joking," I told him, but he was a determined man, looking back at me as he pulled out a dollar bill and beelined for the machine.
"Come pick your poison, Claire," he said as he fed the money into the machine.
I punched in the code to the bar I wanted, and we waited for the machine to dispense it.
"Your aunt called up here asking for you," I told him as we watched the machine do it's job. "She wants you to call her back asap and demanded that I tell you that as soon as I got off the phone with her."
He laughed softly, reaching down to get my candy bar for me. "That would be my mom's sister, Aunt Helene," he revealed. "Sorry about her. She's a nightmare."
"Yeah I don't know how the woman is related to your mom. Your mom is a sweetheart."
I'd only met Dallas's mom a handful of times, mainly when she'd show up at work to bring everyone lunch or snacks on special occasions, but she somehow felt like a second mother to me.
Maybe it was because she was naturally maternal, or that she had heard through Dallas about my lack of a motherly figure, but she always asked me how my day was going and only spoke good things to me, and even sometimes sent Dallas to work sometimes with old clothes or trinkets of hers she thought I would like.
"Speaking of my mom," Dallas started, "she was wondering if you and your dad —and your brother if he'll be with you—wanted to come over for Thanksgiving."
I frowned. "But I thought you go out of town to visit family for Thanksgiving?"
"Usually, yeah, but not this year. Mom's throwing together a big Thanksgiving dinner for everyone."
"Oh," I smiled down at the chocolate bar in my hands, "um, I say yes, but I'll have to ask my dad and see if he's on board."
"Okay, but please try and come. I'll be bored out of my mind if you aren't there," he said.
"I'll come," I promised him swiftly.
"Good." He grinned down at me, his eyes looking green that day. "How's your day been so far?"
I shrugged. "Okay, I guess." I held up my chocolate bar. "This makes it better."
"I'm sure it does, sweet tooth."
I poked at his chest playfully. "Shut up, you're just as bad. Don't think that I don't know about that stash of candy in your desk."
His eyes widened in surprise. "I don't know how you even know that," he said. "I thought I was sneaky about it."
I smiled proudly. "You're so not sneaky, Dal, and I'm a little irked you never offered to share with me."
He laughed. "Because if I did, then my stash would be gone within a day."
I just rolled my eyes and began turning around to get back to work. "That's not true," I said over my shoulder.
He followed after me. "We both know it is, though."
He moved into his office as I settled into my desk and pulled out my notebook to doodle in while I temporarily had nothing else to do, but I got pulled away from my focus when he popped his head out.
"I forgot to tell you—Rex and Alayna are coming over to the loft tonight while they're in town for Thanksgiving break. I think Jillian and Tommy, and maybe even Tina are coming, too. You're more than welcome to come if you want. Alayna begged me to ask you and Noah like I wasn't going to ask already anyways."
"Oh, um, yeah, that sounds fun," I said a little too quickly.
"Great. I'll go let Alayna know."
I sat back at my desk with a smile as he headed back into his office, happy at the thought that I was going to spend my night with my old friend group.
And then my smile soured when I finally realized that Noah's name had been included in the group.
Yeah, I wasn't too sure if it was a good idea anymore.
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1,771 words.
Question: Would you read and enjoy a book written from the lead male's point of view?
I ask this because I have this book idea that I want to write fully from the male lead's point of view as he watches all these things happen to the female lead. Usually, YA books are written in the third person or through the female's POV (like this one) so I'm worried people won't like it, and I don't want to do third person POV because it makes it feel less personal, especially for the type of book I'm writing (very emotional and dark—but not too dark).
Idk let me know y'all's take on it, please.
PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT TO MAKE ME SMILE!!!