Paper or Plastic

by Vivi Barnes

  His fingers curved around mine, but he was still frowning. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Noah, we’ll still be together there. If you want to be, I mean.”

  “Of course I do. It’s just…we’re in different, um, circles.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t care. Neither should you. Now you better let me get back to work before the all-powerful Roxanne comes looking to see if we’ve broken her commandment.”

  He laughed and lightly kissed my lips. “I’ll see you after work.” Then he disappeared.

  My shift couldn’t end fast enough.

  At five o’clock, I finished my bathroom shift alone. It actually wasn’t as bad without Roxanne—no one to torture me with backhanded comments about my clothes, my hair, my life. I even grabbed my cell from my locker, plugged in my earbuds, and listened to music as I cleaned. My imagination wandered, and I pictured Noah walking in and closing the door so we could make out. Maybe if I figured how to get this done in less than my scheduled hour, we could put the rest of that time to good use. Employees were allowed to use the regular customer bathroom when I was cleaning this one, so it’s not like we’d be interrupted. Or maybe I could forego cleaning the toilet just the one day.

  Nice, Lex. Fantasizing about making out with Noah while you’re scrubbing a toilet. Gross.

  At six, I clocked out and went back to the bathroom to change into a sundress—unusual for me, but we were going out, and I wanted to look nice for once without my mother here to see me. I brushed my hair out, applied some lip gloss, and went into the break room to wait for Noah. He showed at exactly six thirty, his eyes focused on his cell. He had a frown on his face. His eyes lit up when he saw me, though. “Wow! You look fantastic.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Man, this really sucks. My mom needs to go out, so I have to stay with Belle at the house. I’m sorry, Lex. I can drop you off at home, though. Maybe this weekend?”

  “Sure,” I said halfheartedly. But then again, we didn’t really have to go to dinner. And my parents thought I was getting off work late, anyway. “You know, I don’t have to be home until nine thirty. How about I go to your house with you?”

  He frowned. “My house?”

  “Yeah. I can help you watch Belle. Why are you looking at me like that?” It was like I had offered to cut off his head or something. Did I overestimate how he felt about me? Or did Roxanne finally get to him? I cocked my head. “You didn’t really get a message from your mom, did you?”

  “What? Yes, I did.”

  “Look, if you’re having second thoughts about this, just say so.”

  He held out his phone to show me the text. “Trust me. I’m not being weird on you right now. I really do have to watch Belle.”

  “Well, does your mom have a problem with you bringing a girl over or something?”

  “No.” The pink tinge in his cheeks flushed into red.

  “Is, um, your dad home?”

  “No. I guess it’d be okay. I don’t live in the same, um, neighborhood as you do, though.”

  “Oh, jeez, I don’t care about that, Noah. If you live in a trailer with no electricity I don’t care.” I hoped he didn’t really think I was that shallow. “I just want to hang out with you.”

  His lips pursed, then he nodded. I followed him out of the store, taking his hand as he helped me into his SUV. I watched as he made his way to the driver’s side, pumping the clutch a couple times to get it to start.

  Noah’s house was definitely not in my neighborhood, nor in the next or the next. It was what could be considered “across the tracks” in a movie—a small, old stucco home with faded yellow paint on a street where lanky, barky dogs ran free. The roof looked like it was missing some shingles, and the driveway was cracked in several places. The yard was mowed, though, and a cute little elf statue was sitting beneath one of the shrubs. A little girl’s pink bike was sitting on the front porch, streamers cascading from the handlebars.

  “Belle rides a bike already?” I asked as Noah took my hand to help me out of the SUV.

  He nodded. “With the training wheels. She could probably ride without, but she’s afraid, so we leave them on.”

  I snorted and tried to cover it with a cough. Trying to get a three-year-old to ride a bike without training wheels? Rory couldn’t ride until she was six. Noah was adorably clueless.

  As soon as we walked into the house, Belle threw herself at Noah. He lifted her up and swung her around, kissing both her cheeks as she giggled. Her attachment to him—and the light in his face as he held her—was sweet. Adjusting Belle to his hip, he led me into the living room where his mom was waiting to take the keys to the SUV. Mrs. Grayson remembered me from the pageant and was very kind, asking me in her lovely French accent to make myself at home. She kissed her son on the cheek and Belle on the top of her head, promising to be back in a couple hours.

  The living room was small, the furniture worn, but it was clean and organized. I sat down on the carpet to play puzzles with Belle, at her insistence, while Noah changed into shorts and a T-shirt. We colored princesses and read Dr. Seuss and played in her little plastic kitchen until Noah called us for pizza. The three of us sat down together at her little table and ate on little toy plates, sipping pretend tea from toy cups. At one point, my imagination ran away and pictured this as my family, with Noah as my husband and Belle as our daughter. But then I realized how weird and embarrassing that thought was and pushed it out of my mind quickly.

  At seven thirty, Noah announced bedtime for Belle. I was impressed that she didn’t fuss about it, which was more than I could say for Rory at that age. Now, too, in fact. Rory got away with doing whatever she wanted, ending up going to bed past nine o’clock after “one more glass of water, one more hug, one more TV show.”

  I helped Belle brush her teeth and tucked her into her big girl bed, which was actually a cute little plastic-framed bed close to the floor. I pulled the pink comforter covered with Disney princesses up under her chin as Noah turned out the light. He closed the door behind us.

  We were alone.

  He looked at me. “Want to hang out in my room? We could watch TV in there, I mean.” He blushed. Shy Noah was back.

  I nodded and followed him a couple doors down to his room. It was a typical guy’s room, I guess—painted in dark gray with silver blinds to cover the window instead of curtains. The room smelled like Noah, a faint, intoxicating mix of soap and the beach. Missing were the gold and silver trophies and medals that littered Bryce’s room; instead, several large framed black and white photographs of tall buildings adorned the walls. I recognized the Hearst Tower in New York and Chicago’s Willis Tower, but the others were strange to me.

  “That’s the Gherkin in London,” Noah said when he caught me staring at a weird rocket-shaped building. “It was built to be environmentally friendly, using the building’s own natural ventilation to use half the energy of a normal structure that size. Look, see?” He ran his finger along the arc at the top of the Gherkin. “There’s a curved lens on top in the observation deck that allows a 360-degree view of London.”

  “What’s that one?” I pointed to a squatty circular structure that looked like it was made from a honeycomb.

  “The Kreod. It’s in London, too. It’s a perfect example of how you can make cutting-edge buildings with sustainable, eco-friendly materials.” He smiled at me. “I admire structures that are architecturally creative but have less of an impact on the environment. I want to be able to design them someday, too.” He turned his gaze back to the Kreod, his smile as tender as when he watched his sister twirl around the living room.

  “Have you ever been there?” I asked. “London, I mean?”

  “No. But I will someday.”

  I had no doubt that he would. Noah was determined to make the most of his life. Those qualities that had made no sense to me a few short weeks ago fell into place. He didn’t want to be a store manager—had no desire to remain at SmartMart the rest of his lif
e. He just wanted to do his best, learn as much as he could, and get those jobs that would help him afford a college education for the job he wanted most. I knew if anyone could do it, Noah could. And if he could, I certainly should be able to do what made me happy, too, without worrying about what my mother thought. She used to say I should be an optometrist or therapist or anything that made sense to her. The thought of going into medicine was as exciting to me as getting my braces in middle school.

  I moved over to Noah’s dresser, peering at each of the pictures—one of Noah and his sister with Mickey Mouse, another with his friends around a table playing some card game. I recognized two of the three guys as his friends Miller and Steve. They went to our school, but I didn’t really know them.

  Noah watched me as I walked around his room. I sat on his bed, but he didn’t move. “Why are you so nervous?”

  He gave me a brief “are you serious” kind of look. “I don’t know. Um, because you’re in my room, sitting on my bed?”

  “Really? This is your bed? I had no idea.”

  “Funny.”

  “Have you ever had a girl in your room?” I asked, running my finger around the geometric circles on the bedspread.

  “No.”

  He perched on the edge of the bed. I scooted next to him. “Noah, relax. We’ve already kissed, remember?”

  “I know.”

  “Did it suck that bad?” Maybe I wasn’t a good kisser. Nobody ever told me if I was or wasn’t.

  “Are you kidding?” he asked, half laughing.

  I leaned closer to him. “So, then, what are you worried about?”

  “I just… Look, we’re going back to school in a few weeks. What happens then? Do you know what school is like for me?” I didn’t answer. “Exactly,” he said. “You don’t remember much because I disappear at school. The few friends I have aren’t treated well at all. They’re called loser and dork and geek to their faces. But at least they’re being noticed. No one notices me anymore, Lex. Ever since ninth grade I’ve worked hard to blend in with the background, and trust me, that’s how I want to keep it. You don’t. You’re popular, beautiful, friendly, everyone loves you. And now you’re dating the guy everyone thinks told on Bryce. So don’t tell me it’s going to be easy for us.”

  His eyes were pinched slightly at the corners as he stared at me. How long had this been bugging him? It’s nothing I wasn’t aware of, and I’d thought about it plenty when I started to realize I was interested in Noah.

  I sighed. “Noah, for such a smart guy, you just don’t get it. You’re an amazing person, and I love hanging out with you. You’re funny, generous, kind, hot”—oops, that one slipped out—“smart, everything that you don’t even see. I’m not the only one who sees that in you. There’s Mr. Hanson, Bessie, Ruthie, even Roxanne. You’re a good big brother to Belle and so much more responsible than most guys in high school. And who cares what happened years ago with Bryce? Really, I don’t. Not anymore.”

  He stared at me for a moment. The corners of his mouth tugged up slightly. “You think I’m hot?”

  I felt my cheeks heat. “Did you hear anything else I said?”

  He reached for my hand and pulled me closer so that I stood in front of him. I ran my fingers through his soft, dark hair, smiling at the way he closed his eyes. Had we really only kissed twice? It seemed like we’d been together forever, though not in a boring, “old comfortable shoes” way. It was more like a slow shiver that started in my shoulders and worked its way down an invisible line throughout my body, stimulating every single one of my senses so I became more aware of me around him.

  “If we’re together,” I told him softly, “why do we care what other people think?”

  He wrapped his arms around my waist, his blue eyes finally fixing on mine. I sensed the shift in him—from nervously awkward Clark Kent to confident Superman—and a sense of satisfaction filled me.

  “You are awesome, you know that?” he said.

  “All those adjectives I came up with for you and that’s all you’ve got? Awesome?”

  He tilted his head. “Awesomely awesome?”

  He reached up to caress my cheek with his hand, then slipped it around my neck to pull me to him.

  The spark created when our lips touched turned into a full-on blazing inferno as our mouths melded together. My body went limp in Noah’s arms. I couldn’t get enough of him, the taste of his lips, his air. He pulled me closer until I was straddling his lap, his hands sliding down to fit around my hips as we kissed. I was lost in him.

  Of all the moments in my life, of all the kisses from whatever guys I thought were important at the time, Noah’s kiss made my skin tingle as if my body was just now coming alive. He’d never be able to convince me that I was his first kiss, but I didn’t even care.

  It was only a couple minutes later when we heard the sound of the screen on the front door slamming. Noah’s head jerked to the side, listening. We could hear the water running in the kitchen and glasses being clinked around.

  Noah smiled at me and leaned back, resting on his hands as I scrambled off his lap. Oh, sure, now he was calm and confident. “Your mom is home? I thought she was going to be out a couple hours?”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be okay with you being in my room, trust me. She’ll probably just be happy I have a girlfriend.” He stood up and held out a hand to me.

  Girlfriend? I had to stifle a juvenile urge to giggle. He hadn’t officially asked me, but who cared? I was Noah’s girlfriend. Hell yeah. I took his hand and followed behind him.

  As we entered the living room, Noah jerked to a halt, allowing me to bump into him. He didn’t say anything, but his hand squeezed mine harder. I peeked around his shoulder, and my heart almost stopped.

  It wasn’t his mother who stared back at us.

  23

  A tall, dark-haired man stood in front of us. Didn’t he say his father wasn’t home? And were Noah’s parents still together? We never did get around to talking about his father. He made it clear it was a subject he didn’t want to discuss.

  “Noah.” The man nodded shortly, then his eyes moved to appraise me. I was surprised at how young he was, definitely younger than my parents. He smiled and raised an eyebrow at Noah. “I hope I’m not interrupting something.”

  Noah had my hand in a steel grip, and it was starting to ache. “No, sir. Lex just got here. I’m taking her home as soon as Mom gets back with the truck.”

  His dad pursed his lips as he looked out the small kitchen window. “Where did she go, anyway?”

  “She had errands to run. She’ll be back soon.”

  The man moved over to us and Noah stepped to the side, pulling me with him. “Hi, you’re Lex? I’m Noah’s father, Tom.”

  He smiled and held out a hand. I pulled my hand from Noah’s and shook it. His demeanor was nice, his smile and soft voice not at all matching the scary shouting that I’d heard at Rory’s pageant. I wondered how it could be the same guy, but it had to be, with the way Noah was reacting.

  This was one of the most uncomfortable moments ever. I glanced at Noah, who was still staring stonily at his father.

  “Well…?” Tom asked Noah, an eyebrow raised.

  “Well what?” Noah asked. I thought I could detect a note of sarcasm in his voice, and I could tell his dad did, too.

  Tom glanced at me and laughed, but his voice wasn’t light. “Funny, Noah. Don’t you have something for me?”

  “No.”

  Tom’s eyebrows dipped slightly and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Well, now…we need to talk about that.”

  “I have nothing to say,” Noah said.

  His father was getting angry, I could tell. Why couldn’t Noah just give him whatever he wanted or at least pretend politeness? He wasn’t being anywhere near as rude as Rory or even I could be to my mother, but I got the feeling this was a really bad choice here. The tension in the room escalated to the point where I wasn’t sure if the air conditioner had gone out. />
  Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you have your friend wait outside for you.”

  “No,” I said quickly. Two sets of eyes fixed on me. My voice sounded in a higher pitch. “I need Noah to take me home now. My mom wants me back.” I took my cell phone out of my pocket with trembling hands and waved it. I remembered his mom had the SUV. “Noah, we can walk, right?” Obviously, we couldn’t. I lived miles from here. But I couldn’t leave him with his dad.

  Noah blinked at me, then nodded. I grabbed his hand and we walked out the door. My entire body was shaking so hard that I missed my step from the doorway to the porch and dropped my cell phone. The cover flew off in two pieces.

  Noah picked up the pieces and put them in his pocket, then wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay,” he said, rubbing my back. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk.”

  I nodded, taking a deep breath to calm down and relieve the shakes a bit. Noah kept an arm around my shoulders as we walked past old homes and overgrown yards that made the neighborhood look run-down.

  One block over was an old playground with slides and teeter-totters that looked decades old and not exactly safe. We climbed up into a boxed-in fort at the top of the slides—the type of place I hadn’t crawled in since I was probably six years old. I laid my head on Noah’s shoulder, sighing as he rested his cheek on my hair. We didn’t speak for a while, just listened to the sounds of summer twilight—the crickets chirping, birds calling, and somewhere far away someone mowing his lawn. Gentle, peaceful sounds that did nothing to calm me.

  “I’m sorry,” Noah said quietly.

  I lifted my head to look at him. His eyes seemed sunken in, and he looked so much older now. He and I were almost the same age but with completely different problems.

  Most of mine were trivial; his were real.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “You know. My dad and all…”

  “Whatever’s going on with you and your dad isn’t something you should apologize for.” I hesitated. “What is going on?”

  He shook his head and stared out at the fading swirls of pink and peach in the sky. “I’ve never exactly lived up to his expectations. Overheard me once telling my mom that I wanted to go to school to get a degree in architecture and after laughing his ass off, he told me with a brain like mine, I’d be better off becoming a starving artist. Emphasis on the starving. He didn’t even care that my grades were As and Bs. I wasn’t good enough.”