Page 35 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
Mom shrugs. “I’m not forbidding anything. Bring whoever you want. Jason and I will be happy to welcome Noah to our parties. Honestly, Meera, the more combative you are, the more I think Jason’s right, and you should stay in September and attend the school he went to. Maybe it would knock some respect into you. You can do that architecture mentorship from here… if you get into it.”
Damnit. My fists are clenched so tight that I’m sure there are little half-moons embedded into my palms from my nails. I want to tell her that Sadie said Randell Academy isn’t welcoming, that doing the mentorship online won’t be nearly as enriching, that I’d be giving up the chance to meet the professors in person, that I don’t feel like myself in Cherrybridge—and honestly, neither does she.
But I don’t. Because it’s no use.
She pulls over in front of the park then, and I don’t even look at her as I get out of the car and slam the door shut behind me.
Mom used to say that Noorani girls stick together, but she also used to say that Noorani girls have each other’s back.
But she’s not a Noorani anymore. She’s a LeClair.
I’m late for CROP’s official start time, and Lainey is already talking when I get to the picnic tables. Noah is there, and I’m a little surprised about that. The way my morning has been going, I fully expected that I would never see him again. I sit across from him like I always do.
“So, we did such a fantastic job weeding and pruning last week that Jeff’s team is here to get you started with planting! A new sign for Gordon Park has been ordered, and we’re going to make large garden beds on either side of it. Today you’ll be mostly digging. If we get these beds done quickly, we’ll move on to what’s going to be the biggest project in the park, restoring the old bandstand! Okay, I’ve got shovels and gloves here for you. Get your gear and meet Jeff and his staff at the south entrance.”
Noah immediately gets up, still not looking at me, and grabs a long-handled shovel and gloves. Yeah, he’s avoiding me. After grabbing my own garden tools, I jog toward him so I can walk with him.
“We cool?” I ask. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving on Saturday night.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I figured you needed to stay with your family after your dad’s big announcement.” He’s not looking at me at all. “No worries, we’re cool.”
“Stepfather. Sorry I didn’t warn you about Jason running for mayor.” I chuckle nervously. “I was sworn to secrecy.”
Again he shrugs but doesn’t say anything.
“And you get why I had to be up there, right? I didn’t want to leave my mom there alone. Especially after that racistconversation with that old guy.” I pause. After her digging her heels in about me staying here in Cherrybridge, I feel like I should have abandoned her on the stage.
Noah finally looks at me for a second, then nods. “I get it. Family’s complicated. You do what you’ve got to do for them.”
I can’t read the tone in his voice. Are we really okay?
When we get to the old sign, Jeff shows us some printed plans from the landscaper and explains how to mark off the area that we’ll need to dig. While Noah is marking the grass with spray paint, I pull my good camera from my backpack. The morning sun is reflecting off the worn wood of the old sign, and the grass—now that most of the weeds have been removed—is looking very green this morning. I play around with some settings and take a few shots of the weathered old sign.
“Nice camera,Princess,” Kennedy says, her voice sounding like a warning.
I exhale. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it. Kennedy’s going to steal it. “Um, thanks. It was my friend’s dad’s… He gave it to me because he never used it.” I don’t want anyone, especially Noah, to think I got my camera with Jason’s money.
“Kennedy, leave Meera alone,” Noah says. “You don’t even know her.” My head whips over to look at him. He’s carefully measuring and marking the edges of the garden bed. After how weird it’s been between us since the party, it feels like a victory that he defended me. And called me by my first name. I put my camera back into my backpack and put my gloves on as Kennedy scoffs and walks away.
We work quietly for a while. This is backbreaking work.I’m going to be even more sore than usual after digging out this flower bed.
“Those pictures you were taking,” Noah says, “are they the kind of stuff you took back in the city?”
He’s talking to me. I smile to myself. “What do you mean?”
“You said your camera is important to you. Is this what you normally take pictures of? Parks and trees?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I take pictures of the city.”
When he looks at me quizzically, I explain.
“I started taking pictures of my friends.” I chuckle. “We borrowed my friend Adanna’s dad’s camera to pretend we were models or movie stars. We used to go to this one alleyway in the city that is absolutely covered with street art and the coolest graffiti, and I’d take pictures of their outfits. My friend Keeley brought a digital piano one day, and I took pictures and video of her playing it with the graffiti behind her. They were a huge hit on her socials. Adanna’s dad gifted me his camera after that, saying that I had a much better eye for it than him.” I smile, remembering my friends and the city that I love. “But my favorite things to photograph are buildings. I love how huge they are. And how different they can look depending on the weather, or time of day, or even the angle. I became obsessed with architectural styles and started taking pictures of the hidden gems in the city. I have a blog for them, actually. And I post on socials, too.”
He looks surprised, and I have the fleeting thought that Noah’s brown eyes are the most expressive part of his face.
“Why isn’t that your goal, then? To be a photographer instead of an architect?”
“I dream big. I want the chance tomakethe buildings I’m always admiring. And architecture is the perfect blend of art and math for me.” I pause as I lift another tuft of grass out with my shovel. “Architecture programs are hard to get into, though.”
