“Good game last night, Tedesco,” Tracy says grinning from ear to ear. We’d spent another night at the SkyZone watching Cadets basketball. Noah was a force. He scored his very first collegiate triple double during an away game, helping Jameson clinch the win.
“Thanks.” He holds his palm out and she slaps it like they’re new besties. I nearly gag.
“I’m Tracy, by the way. The roommate.”
“Noah, the boyfriend.”
The poor kid sitting next to us slams his book closed and shoves it in his bag, glaring at us the entire time he packs up his things. He stomps to a table on the other side of the library and begins unpacking his bag with the same aggression.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I correct, once he’s gone.
“For now.” Noah settles back in his chair. He has an air of confidence about him. It’s always been there, but I think I’d gotten used to it. In Newton, he was king, but here at Jameson, especially since the season has started, he’s ascended to a God-like status.
“I like him, Tru. He can’t be as evil as you make him seem,” Tracy says. Noah smiles at her and she blushes. My roommate is not a blusher. She actually prides herself on her ability to make guys blush, but Noah has her eating out of the palm of his hand. I bet it’s because of the flowers. Consistent motherfucker.
“He’s worse,” I tell her, lifting the daisy to my nose.
Noah shrugs, dropping his arm around my shoulder. “But she loves me anyway.”
I choke back the unexpected emotion and ignore the butterflies flapping their stupid wings in my belly. “How did you even find us?” I ask, shrugging out of his hold.
“You’re gonna be pissed when I tell you.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, and the part of me that is still a little sex drunk from our random hookup last week imagines it’s my bottom lip that he’s sucking on.
I sigh. At this point pissed at Noah should be my default setting. “How pissed?”
“That time I crashed your road trip, level pissed.”
Bad, but not that time I paid your boyfriend to embarrass you level pissed, so I think I can handle it. “Spill,” I grunt.
“I put a tracker on your phone.” The bastard doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “It runs in the background or whatever. It’s supposed to be for kids and shit.”
“You’ve been stalking me?” I grind out the words. Tracy slaps a hand over her mouth to cover her laughter, but I don’t think it’s funny.
“Not actively. I installed it while we were still together.” He scratches the back of his head. “I realized you were avoiding me after I spotted you running out of the cafeteria, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I check from time to time to make sure you aren’t there, so you can finish your food in peace.”
“Aww, that’s actually kind of sweet, Truly.” I glare at my roommate, who practically has hearts in her eyes.
“It’s not sweet, it’s creepy. Delete it.” I toss my phone on the table and add, “Also, I want my hoodie back.”
He taps a few buttons on my phone, then hands it back before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and bopping me on the nose. “Hoodies are for girlfriends. You can have it back when I can have you back.” Then, the fucking asshole stands up and saunters away.
The next few weeks fly by in a blur. The daisies show up at the door like clockwork, right through finals, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to accept Noah’s dinner invitation. What if what he has to say doesn’t make me feel better? What if I can’t get past it? Then what am I supposed to do, say goodbye to him forever?
I shake my head. At least, in this limbo, I get to have him in my life in some capacity. Is that selfish? Yes. Have I earned the right to be a little selfish where that boy is concerned? Hell, yes.
“Alright, that’s it. We need to get out of here,” Tracy says, pushing back from her desk with a little more force than necessary. “We survived finals. It’s Saturday night and you’re obviously in your feelings.” She stands and bounces over to my bed. “We are going home for winter break in a few days, so I won’t get to see you until next year.”
I snort. “It’s three weeks.”
“So, it feels like forever. We should go out. The Alphas are having a party.”
“Pass,” I say, refocusing my attention on my phone. Since finals are over, I can’t use the I have to study excuse anymore, so I’ve resorted to playing word games.
“Truly, you cannot spend all of freshman year hiding in our room. You don’t want to be with Noah. Fine. If you want to be with him, perfect. But either way, you have to live your life.”
I open my mouth to protest, but no words come because she’s right. “Fine.”
“Yes!” She throws her hands up. Her hair is in a jet black bob and frames her face perfectly. She races to the closet and comes back out with two scraps of fabric. “This is going to be amazing! I promise.”
An hour later, we are dressed in our too short dresses, even though it’s cold outside, and wobbling down frat row in heels. Thankfully, Tracy had a small bottle of spiced rum stowed away in her purse that we took turns drinking from while we got ready, which is the only reason I can bear the December air whipping against my legs. I don’t even mind the way the borrowed heels pinch my toes.
Once we get to the house, we each pay five dollars for a red plastic cup, and the dudebro at the door points us in the direction of the keg. We fill up, then push our way through the sweaty bodies onto the makeshift dance floor. The music thumps and I take a drink of the nasty beer.
The party is not unlike the ones Noah used to throw on the weekends, only I don’t really have the same familiarity with these people. It’s an ocean of drunk strangers chasing after the mythical college experience.
After my second beer and third lap around the party to make sure Noah isn’t hiding in a corner somewhere, I finally let myself relax enough to dance. Music pumps through the speakers as Tracy and I sway to the beat. One song turns into the next and that into another. “Okay,” I admit, wrapping my arms around my friend’s neck, “this isn’t so bad.”
“See!” Her brown eyes light up. “I told you.” We dance some more and at some point, Marcus, Tracy’s crush from her Lit class, comes up behind her. Whatever he’s whispering in her ear makes her stick her tongue between her teeth and grin, which is Tracy’s way of saying, I’m getting laid tonight.
His friend stands next to me. “Bets on how long before they ditch us?” he asks, yelling over the music.
Pursing my lips, I think for a moment. “Depends on if they play any Drake.”
He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Drake? Really, that guy does it for her?”
“You really have the nerve to ask that when your buddy over there is a poor man’s Drake.” I point to where the two of them are grinding too slow for the song that’s currently playing.
The friend barks out a laugh and says, “Well, who do I look like?”
I assess him for a minute. Skinny. Blonde hair. Covered in tats. “Justin Bieber.”
Not Justin Bieber grips his chest. “Ouch, I was hoping for Machine Gun Kelly, at least.”
I lift my cup to my lips. “I stand by Bieber.”
He bumps my shoulder. “I’m Jones.”
“Jones?” I squint up at him. “Is that a first name or a last name?”
Before he has a chance to answer, the song changes and Drake’s voice comes blaring through the speakers. Tracy shrieks, throwing her hands around Marcus’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss. “Holy shit.” Jones, chuckles. “You were right.”
I give him a self-satisfied nod. “I should have put money on it.”
“Shoulda. Woulda. Coulda.” He shrugs. I take another sip of my beer. “Want to get some air?”
I glance back to my friend, who still has her tongue down Marcus’ throat and bob my head. Jones doesn’t give me butterflies, but he’s easy to talk to, and Tracy is right, I can’t hang out in limbo for the rest of my lif
e.
I follow him out to the front porch, which is mostly quiet, save for a couple of smokers huddled in the corner. A shiver runs down my spine. It was so hot inside the party, I’d forgotten how cold it was out here before I agreed to this.
“Are you okay?” Jones asks.
I hop up on the railing and wrap my arms around my chest. “Just a little chilly.”
He unzips his jacket and drapes it over my legs before sitting next to me. The gesture makes me smile.
“So, are you a freshman like Tracy?” he asks.
“Yup.” I nod, taking a sip of my drink.
“How come I’ve never seen you at one of these things?”
“I’m not much of a party girl,” I tell him, opting to leave the part out about me avoiding my ex-boyfriend.
“Me either.” He bumps my shoulder again. “But Marcus drags me to these things from time to time. I’m actually glad he did tonight, despite the fact you said I looked like Justin Bieber.”
“My God,” I groan playfully. “I’m sorry, but facts are facts.”
A group of guys jog up the steps, all tall and muscular, and a familiar tingle tugs at the base of my spine as I take in Noah’s long, lean frame. It’s dark on the porch. A single lamp flickers by the front door. I melt into the corner, hoping like hell he doesn’t spot me, but of course, I’m not that lucky. His friends amble through the door ahead of him, but he pauses at the frame.
I stare up like a deer in headlights when his dark gaze lands on mine. The guy behind him pushes him forward, but Noah mutters something and turns in my direction.
He takes in the scene before him, me sitting too close to Jones in a skimpy dress with his jacket draped over my legs. It takes him all of two seconds to tug me to my feet. I stumble over the jacket as Noah pulls me into his chest.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls.
Jones stands. He’s not as big as Noah, but he doesn’t back down. “Do you know this asshole?”
“Yes,” Noah answers for me. “Biblically.” Noah’s jaw ticks, but he casually drops a hand to my ass and presses a kiss to my bare shoulder.
“Noah, stop it.” I try to free myself from his hold, but fighting Noah is useless. His arms turn to steel around my waist, and I’m trapped in his arms.
“Truly?” Jones asks again.
“He’s my ex. I’m sorry.”
“Ex meaning no longer together?” Jones verifies.
Noah finally lets me go. He bends down to pick up the fallen jacket and hands it over. “Ex, meaning working shit out. Take your jacket and this loss and run along.” One of Noah’s giant basketball friends comes up behind us. He doesn’t say a word, just crosses his arms over his massive chest and glares.
Jones takes the hint and heads back into the party. Once he’s gone, the big guy relaxes. “You good, bro?”
Noah nods and they slap hands. “Yeah, we’re out though.”
The big guy laughs and studies me for a second. “Whatever he did, he’s sorry. Forgive him.”
I shake my head. “You only know his side.”
“I know he’s had the whole team helping him deliver you flowers and love notes for weeks, myself included. Take it easy on him, okay?”
My mouth pops open as the guy walks away. I turn to Noah and jab a finger in his chest. “You’re not allowed to be possessive over me.”
He snorts. “That kind of attitude will not get you your hoodie back. Also, what the fuck are you doing out here in this skimpy ass dress without a coat? I know Doc taught you better than that.” He shrugs off his Jameson windbreaker, wraps it around my shoulders, and zips me inside.
Warmth envelopes me, and as much as I want to rip it off and throw it at his head, I slip my hands in the pockets and snuggle in. “It’s a dress.”
“It’s too short and too tight.”
“Jones liked it,” I mutter petulantly.
Noah rolls his eyes at me. “Let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’re being a brat,” he grunts.
“I’m not yours, Noah. You can’t tell me to jump and expect me to leap.”
He blows out a breath, grabs me by the arm, and drags me inside. “What are you doing?”
“You need to tell Tracy you’re leaving, and then we are finally going to have that talk.” He pulls me through the crowd. He stops in the middle of the dance floor. He towers over most of the party goers, so he spots Tracy with ease. She’s on the dance floor where I left her, grinding with Marcus.
She grins up at him, then her eyes cut to me knowingly. “You’re about to get dicked down aren’t you?”
I shake my head. “We’re going to talk.”
“Is that a euphemism for you’re about to go suck his dick?”
“Are you good to get home?”
She looks back at her boytoy. “Oh yeah, I’m good.”
I throw my arms around her. “Be safe.”
“Always. Don’t forget to speak directly into the mic.” She giggles, and I push her playfully.
“We aren’t having sex.”
She stares up at Noah. “Okay, sure.”
I follow Noah outside. The cool air kisses my heated skin and I pull his jacket tighter.
“Why are you wearing that bullshit in December?” he growls.
“Because I’m grown, and I can wear what the fuck I want.”
“You keep pushing me, Tru.” He walks faster and I stumble to keep up.
“And what, Noah? You going to almost rape me? Pay my boyfriend to break up with me? Crash a road trip meant to honor my mother?” I yank from his hold and strip out of his jacket. “Whatever you do to me can’t be any worse than the shit you’ve already done.” I power forward. I sense he’s behind me, but he doesn’t utter a word. He just stalks me like the fucking psycho he is. When we near the dorms, he pulls me left. “My dorm is that way,” I protest.
“We’re going to mine.”
“You’re insane,” I say turning. I need to get off the Noah Tedesco merry go round before I end up face down in a ditch.
He wraps both of his arms around me, hugging me from behind. “Please, Tru.” His voice is sincere and melts a little of the ice away from my heart. “Just talk to me, and after, if you still don’t want me back, I will back off. But give me a chance to make it right.”
“Fine.” We head to his dorm in silence. Once we’re tucked inside his room, he tosses a t-shirt and a pair of his sweatpants at me. I slip out of my dress, then stand there awkwardly. “Did you know I was at the party?” I ask, watching as he changes.
“Yeah.”
“I thought I told you to delete the app?”
“I did. Tracy posted where you guys were going on IG and some of my teammates were talking about it, so I tagged along.”
I should be mad, but I can’t even find the strength. I climb in bed and pull the covers up to my chin and wait expectantly. “You wanted to talk.”
He opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. Instead, he pads over to his desk. There are papers strewn about. I guess even the great Noah Tedesco isn’t exempt from finals week hell. Once he finds what he’s looking for, a royal blue notebook that has seen better days, he comes and joins me on the bed.
“You deserve someone better than me,” he begins. His brow wrinkles as he searches for the next words. “But I’m not selfless enough to let you find him, so I figured I’d do the next best thing.”
“Which is?”
“Be better.” It’s a two-word declaration, and yet it makes my heart race.
“I hurt you.” He stops to let that concession sink in. “I hurt you, Truly, more times than I’m proud of, and I don’t think I ever really apologized for that. I thought about it every day while we were apart. I thought about how I took advantage of your heart. I didn’t really appreciate it then. I felt entitled to it...to you. I took and took and took from you and you loved me anyway.”
Tears roll down my cheeks as he open
s the notebook.
“I don’t even know if I ever really told you how much you mean to me.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and looks down. “How much you helped me see my worth. Not just as a ballplayer, or as the kid with the party house. Not this persona, but the man. I started writing this after Graceland because you had your pictures and I wanted to commemorate our time together too. It’s not as poignant as your mom’s, but maybe it will help you see my side.
He flips a few pages and hands the book to me.
I recognize Noah’s messy scrawl right away.
June 2019
Memphis
I’m not sure why I’m doing this. Maybe because it seemed to work out for Tru’s mom, but I refuse to call you diary because even if no one else ever sees this, I’ll know, and that’s a level of embarrassment I don’t think even my reputation can come back from. Journal seems pretentious.
I used to watch Star Trek with my dad before he died, so I guess I’ll go with Captain’s Log.
Anyway, she cried today. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks and something inside my chest clicked into place. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her cry, but it is the first time I’d felt it. Her pain was palpable and unashamed. Standing there in the middle of Graceland, she wept openly for her mother. It’s completely at odds with everything I’d ever been taught. I’m not allowed to be sad about my dad. Dick hates it. He hates that I’m not his kid. Sometimes, I think he blames me for it, like I had any say about how I was brought into this miserable world.
To him, crying is a sign of weakness, a lesson he’d beat into me when I was younger. But seeing Tru cry, I know he’s full of shit. Her tears weren’t weak. They were breathtaking.
Ok, that’s all I guess.
Tedesco out.
My gaze finds Noah’s and I blink back tears. “Captain’s Log?” I laugh.
“Fuck you.” He grins back. “Keep reading.
I turn the next page.
Truly Page 26