Page 115 of The Addict

I stared at him, not wanting to believe that he was actually here in the flesh, standing before me. Chelsea had said he was attending, but I never actually saw him at school before today.

“So,” he smirked, and raised an eyebrow. “Were you ever going to tell me we went to the same school?”

I shook my head without pause. “Never.” It was the absolute truth, and I had no reason to hide it. It was my complete intent to go on about my merry way each day, on the lookout, praying we never crossed each other. Instead, I not-so-gracefully walked right into him.

Noah ran a hand through his hair and straightened upwards, walking up to me. “Why do you want to avoid me?”

I opened my mouth to answer but was preoccupied by something I caught from the corners of my eyes. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it first. There was a crude, and fairly new looking cut lacing the underside of Noah’s eye. It was near purplish in color, resembling a black eye. I blinked.

“What happened to you?” I questioned, unthinkingly reaching out towards the gash.

He flinched before I even made contact, and I retracted my hand quickly. “I’m sorry.”

He rolled his shoulders, and shifted his weight awkwardly on his feet. “No, it’s fine. I was just in a fight, that’s all.”

I took a moment to think about his words. Something wasn’t adding up. “You didn’t have that last night at the movies.” Considering he was fine when he waited with me for my Uber, I was suspicious. “Who did you get into a fight with?”

His eyes darted to the floor once and then made their way quickly back to mine. I caught the nervous gesture, wondering why I was starting to feel sick. My stomach was churning something fierce and I could feel my chest begin to tighten. I had this awful feeling that Noah’s cut could be from a certain Silas Thorne that had made a sharp threat. Could it be that Silas found out that he was at the movies with me and hurt him? Would he harm Noah instead of me? Was that even an option? Cold shivers crawled up my spine.

“It’s no one important,” Noah finally said, laughing oddly to fill the silence around us.

I realized then that he had no intention of telling me the truth, and that stung. Even so, it wasn’t like I could just come out and ask, “Hey, did that Silas guy do that to you?”

“Well, I hope it heals.” I ushered my head to the direction of the stairs, trying to calm the unsettling feeling in my gut. “I’m late. I have to get to class.”

I turned and walked away in the opposite direction, holding my bag strap close to my chest. I listened carefully to see if he would say anything else as I crossed the room. I hoped he would elaborate on his feelings or at the very least explain how he was so deeply hurt. I started walking more slowly than usual, taking each step at a snail’s pace, hoping he would reach out to me again.

“Delane,” he called.

I bit my lip, unable to prevent the surge of anticipation going through me. I turned back. “Yes?”

“It was my father. We were in an altercation last night,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck as he bridged the space between us yet again.

My eyes widened at his confession. His father caused that? What the hell did that even mean? Noah’s explanation was vague, and while I couldn’t decide if he was telling the complete truth, I didn’t think he would lie about something that serious. I couldn’t even imagine getting into a physical fight with my parents, let alone them leaving a wound so deep on me like the one under Noah’s eye. That certainly wasn’t what I considered to be a “normal” fight with a parent.

Noah’s eyes were flickering, unsteady flames, like he wasn’t sure how to look at me after that. I was unsure of what to say in response. I stayed silent, nervously fiddling with my backpack strap.

“Um, would you like to do something...sometime?” He threw out, randomly, catching me even more off guard. What was he suggesting, exactly?

I had been on a few dates in my life. I assumed that I knew of an invitation from a guy when I heard one. Typically, the guys who were too shy to approach any other girl in the school were drawn to my calm and collected manner. So, this didn’t seem right. From our brief interactions, I had developed an impression of Noah as an extrovert. He was brazen. He was never afraid to speak his mind when he thought was necessary, and a wicked talent of using his words to get him out of trouble. He was one of those bad boys all girls crave, the one that they spend hours fantasizing about.

“Are you…” I tilted my head to the side in an attempt to figure him out. “Are you asking me on a date?”

It didn’t seem like I would be his type at all.

With a grin, he closed the small gap between us. I came up to his chin, and although I felt incredibly small in comparison to his height and stature, I anchored my head up to meet his gaze fully. Even with that nasty injury, he was so incredibly handsome. At my side, my hand anxiously tugged at my dress. I was sure that he could see how quickly my chest was expanding, and how loudly my heart pounded at his closeness.

“You don’t have to think of it as one.” He leaned in closer. “But I guess, it could be a date.”

Imagine going on a date with someone after being warned never to speak to them again. I couldn’t possibly agree to spend more time with Noah. But I wanted to. So badly. Is this what temptation felt like? If so, I wanted to take the bait.

I want to know what his lips taste like, I thought before I could censor my brain. I squinted my eyes tightly shut for a moment. I needed to get ahold of myself.

“You know, I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I croaked.

Noah’s confident demeanor fell.

I tried to convey with my eyes just what I was feeling. I want to know you, but I can’t. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. I could get hurt. You could get hurt.