Noah comes out of nowhere and pushes me behind him. “Amelia, get out of here, there are a lot more crashers from Commack Silver High on their way, and they’re dying for a fight.”
He joins in just as more guys from Commack Silver do as well. Aiden, Mason, Noah, and Julian are now facing two of the blindsiders and the eight newcomers, and I notice Chase has just entered out of nowhere and joined Aiden’s side in the face-off.
Noah told me to leave, but I’m glued to the spot. My legs will not move. I can’t remember how to do anything but stand in one spot and stare at the unfolding scene.
It’s ten against five. Oh my God.
The other partygoers look more shocked and scared than I do, so my hopes of someone else jumping in are dashed.
I’m moving before my brain realizes what I’m doing, as if my reasoning has shut off and given over to instinct. All I can think is: It’s uneven, someone has to help. Someone has to do something. It’s uneven.
Just as one of the guys is about to lunge at Noah, I jump in front of him and take a swing at his face, my attack taking him off guard and knocking him to the floor. He looks up at me in shock and rage, and all nine standing C. S. guys shift their attention to me with venomous glares.
Then all hell really breaks loose.
Aiden reaches me first, grabbing me and throwing me behind him, taking a protective stance. The remaining guys all pounce at him, and our friends jump in to help Aiden defend me, their grunts and swears chilling me to the bone.
Aiden fights one guy, all while never moving from in front of me.
It happens before I can warn anyone. Another guy from C. S. High grabs an empty beer bottle and swings it with all his might right on Noah’s head. The sound of glass shattering is like a bullet to my pounding heart, and I watch in horror as Noah collapses to the floor. There’s blood coming from the gash in Noah’s head, and it’s seeping onto the floor.
The sudden realization of how serious this situation is must have hit everyone at the same time Noah hit the floor. Girls scream and cry, and I vaguely realize one of the voices is my own.
Aiden pounces on the guy who attacked Noah, beating him mercilessly. The remaining boys from Commack Silver High try to scatter, grabbing the injured guys and running from the house as quickly as they can carry them. Racing to Aiden, who’s still punching the attacker on the floor, I yell, “Aiden! Aiden, stop! Please!”
He stills and looks at me with raging eyes, breathing heavy.
“We need to help Noah,” I plead.
He looks at the guy on the floor, and comes down from his blind rage, getting off of him.
He grabs my upper arms and shakes me. “How stupid are you? Why would you jump in the middle of that? You could’ve gotten hurt!”
“Aiden! I’m okay—we need to help Noah.”
Anna’s already sitting with Noah, trying to stop the bleeding with a shirt. Some guys are helping escort the bottle attacker Aiden knocked out from the house.
Mason’s on the phone with someone while pacing in frustration—something about an ambulance. Kneeling beside Aiden on the floor, I notice the gash on Noah’s head is bigger than it originally seemed, and there is some glass sticking out.
Someone hands me a towel and I pass it to Anna, who discards the shirt and presses the clean towel against Noah’s head, being careful to avoid messing with the glass. I hear all the boys around me swearing. Chase says something to Mason about calling Noah’s parents. Charlotte is crying beside me, staring at the blood on the floor.
Poor, sweet, Noah. Why him? He’s the nicest, goofiest, easiest guy to get along with. And now he’s on the floor, unconscious and bleeding.
Damn it, where is this ambulance?
I stay on the floor with Noah and gently run my hand over his forehead, scared to do anything because of the glass lodged in his bleeding gash. Mason is still frantically speaking into the phone, talking to Noah’s parents from the sound of it. Chase is consoling a crying Charlotte, and Julian is running around gathering more towels.
And Aiden—he’s standing near the door that he just opened for the ambulance, taking in the scene with a blank, impassive face. But I notice the undeniable rage he’s managing to control. The anger is in his eyes—they look deadly and murderous, ready to take on and destroy anything that stands in his way.
Noah’s secured on the stretcher, and an oxygen mask is fixed over his mouth. Since only one person is allowed to ride in the ambulance with him, Mason follows him in without hesitation.
With the ambulance gone, the adrenaline slowly drains from the room. We turn to look at one another, and at the mess in Noah’s house, amplified from the fight. Blood, broken glass, and furniture are everywhere, mixed with scattered cups and bottles.
Chase is the first to speak, unwrapping his arms from around Charlotte and intertwining his fingers with hers. “I called us a taxi. I’m going to take Charlotte home, then sleep these drinks off before going to the hospital to see Noah.” He looks at me. “Amelia?”
I shake my head, indicating that they should go without me. Charlotte gives me a tight hug, then goes outside with Chase.
“There’s no way I can sit around and wait for Mason to call,” a now slightly calmer Annalisa says.
“There’s no point in us all going to the hospital; you need some sleep. We all need some sleep. Mason said he’d call the second they know anything about Noah,” Julian says, trying to reason with her.
“There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep. If I can’t be useful and help Noah at the hospital, I’ll at least make myself useful and start cleaning his house.”
Before anyone can protest, Annalisa disappears into the kitchen. Julian sighs and follows her, and we hear them picking up bottles.
This leaves just me and Aiden in the room, and I still haven’t moved from the spot where Noah was on the floor.
Aiden sighs and walks over to me. “Come on, I’m driving you home.”
I hesitate, and he stiffens. “I think my saving your ass tonight shows that I’m not going to hurt you. And I haven’t had anything to drink, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Sav—saving my ass?! I was handling it just fine before you jumped in and caused the whole damn football team to get involved.”
“Handling it just fine?! You were being strangled. A simple ‘Thanks, Aiden’ would suffice. Now let’s go.”
He hoists me to my feet and leads me toward his car.
“Did you not see me take out Dave the first time? I could’ve handled it!”
The guilt and worry over Noah sit in the pit of my stomach. I know Aiden probably did save my ass, but I can’t accept that. If I can’t even handle some high school boys without Aiden’s help, how am I going to handle it when he comes for me?
Aiden doesn’t reply and instead guides me into the passenger seat. When he sits in the driver’s seat and turns the car on, he looks at me. “Address?”
I recite it, then realize something and get mad. “Why don’t you take me to the hospital instead of home? I can’t go home—I need to see if Noah is okay.”
Where’s my phone? I need to—I don’t know—find out if someone knows something already. I pat my pockets and search my purse. Damn it. I usually keep my phone in my hand instead of in my purse and I must’ve lost it without realizing during the fight.
Aiden’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he continues to drive toward my house; the opposite direction of the hospital.
“Aiden! Take me to the hospital! I want to see Noah!”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe he won’t want to see you?” he explodes.
“Wha—”
“Seriously, you’ve done enough tonight.”
“But I don’t—”
“It’s your fault he’s in the hospital! The whole fight started because you got
mixed up with the Silvers. We didn’t think there would be a problem tonight since Ryan wasn’t even here, but a fight started anyway! Because of you! I mean, do you go looking for trouble? Because ever since we’ve met you, you’ve done nothing but attract it. After this, you’ll be lucky if Noah ever hears your name without flinching, never mind wanting to see you.”
I start crying, never thinking to ask about this Ryan. Aiden’s right; of course he’s right. That whole fight wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone to that stupid party. And Noah would be at home, partying it up with everyone right now instead of at the hospital.
“They all probably hate you now, since it’s your fault we might never see Noah again,” he says calmly, his words shooting the second bullet of the night straight through my heart.
5
The tears that started in Aiden’s car didn’t stop all night. I couldn’t get his words out of my head.
It’s now two o’clock on Saturday afternoon, and I have no idea what’s going on with Noah. I don’t have my phone, and even if I did, I’m too much of a coward to call anyone, and I’m too scared to tell my mom I lost it. Then I’d have to explain what happened and she definitely would not be happy about that.
Every time someone gets close to me, they get hurt. This is why I’m supposed to keep my head down, but no, instead I gave into the need for friends.
God, if my mom finds out about Noah, she’s going to freak and I’ll get one hell of an I-told-you-so lecture. See, I warned you! You shouldn’t be involved with these people, Amelia. You need to keep your distance or they’ll end up hurt. He’s not even here and one of your friends is in the hospital! Haven’t you learned your lesson yet? The people around you get hurt.
I laugh humorlessly. She wouldn’t even be wrong. My last best friend was clocked over the head with a gun. And that’s not something you easily forget.
Moping in bed, like I’ve been doing all day with the guilt eating me alive, I’ve debated about going to visit Noah or not a half dozen times. At the top of the cons list is what worries me the most: finding out Noah hates me. Right now, by not visiting, I can prolong finding out and can live in denial a little while longer. He’s such a fun, goofy guy. Hurting him is like kicking a puppy, and I can’t face the fact that hate would fill his light-green eyes when they looked at me.
When the doorbell rings, I barely get it open before Charlotte pushes it open the rest of the way and walks in like she’s lived here forever.
“Why haven’t you answered your phone? And why does it look like you haven’t moved from bed since yesterday?”
“I lost it,” I say, leading her into the house. “And because I haven’t.”
“Why?” Charlotte sits down on the couch opposite me and crosses her legs.
“It’s my fault Noah’s in the hospital.”
“What? No, it’s not, Ameli—”
“Yes. It is.”
“No, seriously, it’s not. You didn’t do anything. Tha—”
“If I had just handled things with Dave differently, or not punched that guy when he lunged at Noah, or not gone at all; if I had done anything differently, things would have turned out differently.”
“Stop interrupting me!” Charlotte looks at me sternly. “You’re new, so let me explain how things around here work. The K. C. High boys and C. S. High boys have never gotten along. Since ever. They’ve been fighting since freshman year. Whether you went to Noah’s party or not, a fight would’ve broken out. The Silvers use any excuse they can to fight Aiden and them—it all goes back to some rivalry between Ryan and Aiden. The Silvers would have crashed Noah’s party and fought with them no matter what. You just happened to be the thing that they decided to start the fight over this time. Shit happens. But it’s not your fault.”
She takes a breath, and I sit there staring at her, trying to process. There’s that name again: Ryan.
“People who saw told me what happened between you and that guy, Dave?” she continues. “You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I know he slapped you and started choking you before Aiden pulled him off. That was not your fault, you understand me? No victim blaming here. The Silvers are assholes who go looking for trouble.” She finishes her rant and gets up from the couch. “Now, get your sorry ass up, go shower, and get dressed. Noah’s awake and we’re going to visit him.”
I look at her with wide eyes, and slowly get up from the couch. Crossing to her, I throw my arms around her, and she easily hugs me back.
“Thanks,” I say.
“What are friends for? No moping on my watch! Now hurry up before visiting hours are over.”
On our way to the hospital, I realize something and look at Charlotte. “I thought you hated the Boys?”
“They’re not that bad,” she mumbles, not taking her eyes off the road.
“Yeah, they’re starting to grow on me too.”
“I guess in his own way, Aiden’s not that bad either,” she admits.
I gasp theatrically. “What? Has the alcohol from Friday permanently damaged your brain?! Should you be driving? This is not good—the delusional should not be operating heavy machinery!”
“Shut up.” She laughs. “For real, though, he pulled that first guy off you. He beat up, like, six guys by himself to protect you. When they all lunged at you, he pulled you behind him. I’m just saying I don’t hate the fact that Aiden was at the party. Not that I want to invite him to my house for a sleepover-slash-movie marathon.”
At the hospital, I hesitate by Noah’s door, nervous to go in. Charlotte assured me that Noah wouldn’t hate me, but I’m still worried. Taking a deep breath, I walk into the room behind Charlotte.
“Charlotte! Amelia!” Noah’s happy expression reassures me, and I exhale the breath I hadn’t realized I’ve been holding. He’s sitting up in bed wearing comfy-looking sweats.
Despite being in the hospital, he still looks cute, his dimples never disappearing beneath the slight bruise on his cheek.
“Hey, Noah.” We smile at him. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here.” He winks at us.
“I’m glad to know this isn’t a setback for your flirty attitude,” I laugh as Charlotte and I sit beside his bed. “For real though, how are you?”
“I’m fine. I have a slight concussion and needed some stitches, but I’m feeling good. Really. I don’t even need to be here anymore, but we’re waiting for some test results. I should be discharged soon.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I say.
“Why didn’t you come to visit me earlier?” Noah asks.
“I—I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” he asks.
“She was scared you’d be mad at her,” Charlotte explains. “She thought it was her fault you’re here and that you’d hate her.”
Noah looks at me, looks at Charlotte, then looks back at me, and bursts out laughing. “What? I’d never hate you, Amelia! And this isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault. The Silvers hate our guts and are always starting fights.”
Charlotte gives me a look, as if to say Told you so.
“So you don’t hate me?” I ask in a small voice.
“Never! I’m glad you’re not hurt, or any more hurt since the rest of us jumped in.” Noah says, indicating the forming bruise on my cheek. “Where did you get the idea that I’d be mad at you anyway?”
“Aiden—” I look down at the floor, ashamed of myself for being so easily convinced by him.
“Aiden’s just really protective of the people he cares about.” Noah sighs. “He didn’t mean it.”
Letting the subject drop, the three of us talk and laugh until Aiden walks into the room.
“What are you doing here?” His eyes narrow at the sight of me.
“I came to see my friend,” I say confidently, done mop
ing around and blaming myself.
“Seriously, Aiden. Don’t be all hostile right now. I’m happy she’s here,” Noah says.
Aiden glares at me, and then tosses Noah a fast-food bag before taking the seat on the other side of the room.
“You have just made me the happiest man in the world!” Noah exclaims and digs into his burger.
Aiden rolls his eyes, but I don’t miss the small smile he’s trying to keep from forming.
Mason walks in slurping from a fast-food cup. “K-bear!” He hugs me and Charlotte, and sits down next to Aiden.
“Hey, that reminds me!” Noah announces and looks at me. “Maybe hospital trips can be our thing? You were here last time, and now me.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see Aiden tense up.
“Maybe we should keep looking?” I say and everyone laughs, releasing any tension in the room.
Later that night, I’m sitting at home making some dinner in my empty house.
My mother’s been so distant ever since that incident last year. She grows even more distant every time it happens. I know deep down she’s tired of how we’ve been forced to live because of me. She’s moved from mainly flying domestic and being home more regularly to doing more overseas and long-haul flights. She’s avoiding me, avoiding this life, avoiding the reasons why we had to move three times in the last year.
As I’m doing the dishes, the doorbell rings and I tense. It’s almost ten on a Saturday night; who’d be coming here?
He wouldn’t be ringing the doorbell if he found you, I reason with myself. Despite knowing this, I grab a metal baseball bat from the closet beside the front door.
Opening the door slowly and peeking out, I breathe a sigh of relief as the crisp autumn air greets me. Aiden’s standing there, his flat-black Dodge Challenger sitting in the driveway. He’s looking at me with a questioning expression, eyeing the baseball bat in my hand. I quickly lean it against the wall behind the door, out of his inquisitive gaze.
He raises his eyebrow. “Really? A baseball bat?”
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