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Noah opens the passenger door of his Toyota. His parents made sure he had the safest car, the newest model. The interior is spotless, no stacks of books, no dirty clothing. We drive around to find a park, which only takes a little bit. It’s a small, quiet space with half-green, half-yellowing grass and a few trees.
As we pull into a spot, Noah asks, “Hey, when are you going to start looking for a car?”
“I think this week, actually. I am going to apply for jobs this week, too.” I don’t mention the internship at Vance Publishing that Hardin dangled in front of me. I don’t know if I can still get it, or how I’d tell Noah if I did.
“That is great news. Let me know if you need any help with either of those,” he says.
We walk around the park once and then sit at a picnic table. Noah talks most of the time and I nod along. I find myself zoning in and out of the conversation but he doesn’t seem to notice. We end up walking a little more and come to a small stream. I snort at the irony and Noah looks at me quizzically.
“Do you want to swim?” I ask, not quite sure why I push this moment further.
“In there? No way,” he says, laughing, and as I deflate a little, I mentally smack myself. I need to stop comparing Noah to Hardin.
“I was just joking,” I lie, and drag him along down the trail.
IT IS SEVEN before we leave the park, so we decide to order pizza when we get back to my room and watch a classic: Meg Ryan falling in love with Tom Hanks through a radio show. I am starving by the time the pizza comes so I eat almost half of it myself. In my defense, I haven’t eaten all day.
Halfway through the movie my phone rings and Noah reaches over to grab it for me. “Who’s Landon?” he asks. There is no suspicion in his voice, only curiosity. He has never been the jealous type; he never needed to be.
Until now, my subconscious reminds me.
“He’s a friend from school,” I say and answer. Why would Landon be calling me so late? He’s never called me for anything other than to compare notes.
“Tessa?” Landon says loudly.
“Yeah, is everything okay?”
“Um, well, no, actually. I know Noah is there but . . .” He hesitates.
“What’s wrong, Landon?” My heart starts to race. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s not me. It’s Hardin.”
Panic overtakes me. “H-Hardin?” I stutter.
“Yeah, if I give you an address can you come here, please?” I hear something crash in the background. I jump off my bed and I have my shoes on before my mind catches up. Noah stands up, too, almost as if in sympathy.
“Landon, is Hardin trying to hurt you?” My mind can’t make sense of what else could be going on.
“No, no,” he says.
“Text me the address,” I tell him and then hear another crash.
I turn to Noah. “Noah, I need your car.”
His head turns sideways. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know . . . it’s Hardin. Give me your keys,” I demand.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls them out, but says insistently, “I’m coming with you.”
But I snatch the keys from his hands and shake my head. “No, you . . . I need to go alone.”
My words hurt him. He looks hurt. And I know it’s wrong to leave him here, but right now the only thing I can think about is getting to Hardin.
Chapter twenty-nine
Landon’s text reads 2875 Cornell Rd, which I copy and paste into my maps program, which says the drive is fifteen minutes. What could be going on there that Landon could possibly need me?
I’m just as confused when I arrive at the address as I was when I left my room. Noah has called twice, both of which I’ve ignored; I need the navigation to stay on the screen and, honestly, the confused look on his face when I left him there is haunting me.
The houses on the street are all large and look like mansions. This house in particular is at least three times larger than my mother’s. It’s an old-fashioned brick house with a sloped yard that makes it appear to be sitting on a hill. Even under the streetlights, it’s beautiful. I’m guessing this must be Hardin’s father’s house, since this doesn’t belong to a college kid and it’s the only reason why Landon would be here as well. I take a deep breath, get out, and walk up the steps from the sidewalk. I knock hard on the dark mahogany door, and it opens within seconds.
“Tessa, thank you for coming. I’m sorry, I know you have company. Is Noah with you?” Landon asks and looks out to the car while gesturing me inside.
“No, he’s back at the dorms. What’s going on? Where’s Hardin?”
“The backyard. He is out of control.” He sighs.
“And I am here because . . .?” I ask as nicely as I can. What does Hardin being out of control have to do with me?
“I don’t know, I know you hate him, but you do talk to him. He’s really drunk, completely belligerent. He showed up here and opened a bottle of his father’s scotch. He drank over half the bottle! And then he started breaking things: all my mother’s dishes, a glass cabinet, basically everything he could get his hands on.”
“What? Why?” Hardin told me he doesn’t drink—was that a lie, too?
“His dad just told him that he and my mother are getting married . . .”
“Okay?” I’m still confused. “So Hardin doesn’t want them to get married?” I ask as Landon leads me through the large kitchen, where I gasp as I take in the huge mess Hardin has made. Broken dishes are scattered across the floor, and a large wooden cabinet has been knocked over, its glass panels shattered.