Page 27 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
He has a small electric guitar that he plugs into the amp.After playing a test chord and adjusting some knobs, he sits on the stool in the middle of the stage.
“Oh my God, it’s him,” Sadie says.
“Who?” James asks.
Sadie glances at me. “Noah Jacobs. Haven’t seen him around in a while. He grew up.”
“Holy crap,” James says. “Like, Aaron Jacobs’s brother? I thought he was in jail?”
“Aaron’s in jail, not Noah,” Reagan says.
James frowns. “I’m sure I heard he was arrested for—”
I shush them all because I think it’s super rude to whisper and speculate about who in Noah’s family is in jail while Noah is literally onstage to perform for us.
“I’m Noah Jacobs. And I only have one song for you tonight,” he says, which actually makes some people boo. I have no idea if they’re booing for him or about the fact that he’s only going to sing one song. “This one’s my dad’s favorite. I hope I can do it justice. This is ‘Rusty Cage.’?”
He starts playing the guitar, and the whole place goes quiet, listening. I don’t really know a lot about the guitar, other than that I love the sound of it. But I can tell he’s good. Like, better than good. With the white spotlight on him, I watch his fingers fly over the frets, coaxing the most amazing sounds out of his instrument. It’s mesmerizing.
But then he starts singing. It’s a song I don’t think I’ve heard before, and his voice is clear andsoulful. Like, it’s definitely a rock song, but his voice is giving it an almost folk vibe. He doesn’t sound like the same person I’ve been talking to every day this week.
He’sincredible.
“Wow, he’s good,” Kaitlyn says. She sounds shocked. And a little irritated. Even I know that if there was a music scout here, between Noah and Kaitlyn, the scout would be offering opportunities to him, not her.
“This is a really hard song,” Quinn says. “It’s by Soundgarden. I’m truly impressed.”
“So it’s a cover,” Kaitlyn says, pouting. “Not even an original song.”
I can’t take my eyes off Noah’s hands—hands that I’ve seen pruning trees and digging up weeds all week. But when I tear my eyes from his hands and look at his face, that’s the sight that takes my breath away. His lips curl when he’s holding a note. His eyes are unfocused but intense with emotion. Every person in the busy bar is quiet, almost reverent, knowing that this kind of talent is rare.
He said that this is his father’s favorite song. Does that mean his father’s here tonight? I glance around even though I have no idea what he looks like.
When the song starts to slow, Noah’s eyes meet mine as he holds the final note, and my stomach flutters in response.
He’s still looking at me when the entire bar erupts into applause and cheers. And because I’ve become a bit of an expert at deciphering Noah Jacobs’s body language, I see the challenge in his expression. He’s saying,This is who I am.
I respond by smiling widely and clapping louder than anyone else, which makes him smile right back, his head dipping down as he lets out a soft chuckle, away from the mic.
Yes, I see who Noah Jacobs is. And I still want him with me at my stepfather’s party.
To be honest, right now I kind of want Noah Jacobs with me in any way I can get him.
CHAPTER ELEVENFake Date Number One
Mom and Jason are sleeping when I get home, which is a relief. I’m definitely not feeling that wine anymore, but Mom might smell it on me. As soon as I get to my room, I text Noah, because I’m the kind of friend who always jumps at an opportunity to compliment my friends.
Meera: why didn’t you tell me you were so good? your song was incredible!
Noah: you never asked
Meera: ok and you did say your guitar was your most important thing. hey whats your 3rd important thing?
Noah: i don’t know. why are spreadsheets important to you?
Meera: because they’re satisfying. you have to have something. your family? your dad?
Noah: nah. that doesn’t feel right
