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When I open the door to our room, I find Noah lying back on my small bed, staring at the ceiling. He jumps up when he sees me come in.
“Jesus, Tessa! Where have you been all night? I’ve been calling you nonstop!” he shouts. This is the first time Noah has ever actually raised his voice at me. We’ve bickered before, but this is a little scary to see.
“I am so, so sorry, Noah. I went to Landon’s house because Hardin was drunk and he was breaking things, and the time just got lost, I guess, so by the time we cleaned up, it was really late and my phone was dead,” I lie.
I can’t believe I’m lying straight to his face—all the times he has been there for me, and here I am lying to him. I know I should tell him but I can’t imagine hurting him.
“Why didn’t you use someone else’s phone?” he says forcefully, but then pauses. “Never mind—Hardin was breaking stuff? Are you okay? Why did you stay there if he was being violent?”
I feel like he is asking me a thousand questions at once, disorienting me.
“He wasn’t being violent; he was just drunk. He wouldn’t hurt me,” I say and cover my mouth, desperately wishing I could push those last words back in.
“What do you mean he wouldn’t hurt you? You don’t even know him, Tessa,” he snaps and takes a step toward me.
“I’m just saying that he wouldn’t hurt me like physically. I know him well enough to know that. I was just trying to help Landon, who was there, too,” I say back.
But Hardin would hurt me, emotionally—he already has, and I’m sure he will try again. And here I am defending him.
“I thought you were going to stop hanging around those type of people? Didn’t you promise me and your mom that you would? Tessa, they aren’t good for you. You’ve started drinking and staying out all night, and you left me here all night—I don’t know why you even had me come here if you were just going to leave.” He sits down on the bed and rests his head on his hands.
“They aren’t bad people; you don’t know them. When did you become so judgmental?” I ask him. I should be begging for him to forgive me for how badly I’ve treated him, but I can’t help but be irritated by the way he’s talking about my friends.
Mostly Hardin, my subconscious reminds me, and I want to slap her.
“I am not judgmental, but you would have never hung out with those Goth people before.”
“What? They aren’t Gothic, Noah, they’re just themselves,” I say. I am as surprised by the defiance in my words as Noah is.
“Well, I don’t like you hanging out with them—they’re changing you. You aren’t the same Tessa that I fell in love with.” I realize then that his tone hasn’t been malicious at all. It’s just sad.
“Well, Noah—” I begin, and the door flies open. My eyes follow Noah’s to an angry Hardin storming into the room.
I look at Hardin, then at Noah, and back to Hardin. There is no way this is going to go well.
Chapter thirty-six
What are you doing here?” I ask Hardin, even though I do not want to hear the answer, especially not in front of Noah.
“What do you think? You snuck out on me while I was asleep—what the hell was that?!” he booms. I hold my breath as his voice echoes off the wall. Noah’s face flashes with anger and I know that he’s beginning to put the puzzle pieces together.
And I’m torn between trying to explain to Noah what is going on and trying to explain to Hardin why I left.
“Answer me!” Hardin yells and stands in front of my face. I’m surprised when Noah steps between us.
“Don’t yell at her,” he warns Hardin.
I’m frozen in place while Hardin’s face twists in anger. Why is he so mad that I left? He was mocking my inexperience last night, and would have kicked me out this morning probably anyway. I need to say something before this all blows up in my face.
“Hardin . . . please don’t do this right now,” I beg. If he leaves now, I can try to explain to Noah what is going on.
“Do what, Theresa?” Hardin asks and walks around Noah. I hope Noah keeps his distance. I don’t think Hardin will hesitate to take him down. Noah is pretty buff from soccer, especially compared to Hardin’s lean body, but I have no doubt that Hardin can hold his own, and most likely win.
What the hell is happening in my life that I have to worry about Noah and Hardin fighting?
“Hardin, please just go and we will talk about this later,” I say, trying to defuse things.
But Noah just shakes his head. “Talk about what? What the hell is going on, Tessa?”
Oh God.
“Tell him; go on and tell him,” Hardin says.
I can’t believe he is doing this. I know how cruel he can be, but this takes it to a whole other level.
“Tell me what, Tessa?” Noah asks, and I can see his stance is an aggressive one, because of Hardin, but it’s softening as he wonders about me.
“Nothing, just what you know, that I stayed at Hardin and Landon’s last night,” I lie. I try to match my gray eyes to Hardin’s in hopes that he will stop this now, but he looks away immediately.
“Tell him, Tessa, or I will,” Hardin growls.
I know it’s all lost. I know there’s no hiding anything anymore, and I begin to cry. But I want Noah to hear it from me, not the smirking asshole who’s brought us to this point. I’m humiliated—not for myself, but for Noah. He doesn’t deserve any of this, and I’m ashamed of the way I’ve treated him and the confessions I’m going to be forced to make in front of Hardin. “Noah . . . I . . . me and Hardin have been . . .” I start.