Page 17 of In the Middle of No(ah)where (Rockport Ridge #2)

Noah

Unknown: this is Marcus btw.

T he smile on my face is wide when I reread Marcus' text messages for the hundredth time, hesitating on whether I should reach out and text back.

My mind is racing to find the right words because how can I possibly explain the last couple of years in just a few short text messages?

The struggles. The setbacks. The self-inflicted wounds.

How am I going to explain any of it without him seeing me as something totally different or broken?

What if I'm too much for him? Too much drama. Too much baggage to deal with.

Standing in front of my closet with a towel wrapped around my waist, there's a knock at my door before it opens.

Carlos. We have very few boundaries between us.

Next to Caleb, Carlos has become my second best friend.

And since both of our rooms lock, if I really wanted to keep him out, I'd lock the door.

Looking around my room quickly, "Have you seen my–" he cuts off when his gaze lands on my arm.

I've never tried hiding the scars from him, but I've never had them fully on display, either.

When my shirt sleeve slid up once, he noticed the scars on my wrist, which led to a whole night of drinking and verbal diarrhea.

He's been sweet to check in with me daily to make sure my mental health is in check.

This is the first time he's seen the full length of my arm covered in mental health battle wounds.

I clear my throat.

"Sorry, man. I've just never…you know…I didn't…" He nods in the direction of my arm. The look of empathy smeared across his tanned face.

"You didn't realize it was this bad?" I finish for him.

"Yeah."

"It's okay. What's up?" I ask, trying to divert the conversation away from my scars.

"Have you seen my controller? The clear one that lights up."

"Last I saw, you had it plugged in on the TV stand, charging."

"I looked," he says, defeated.

"Have you tried that messy bedroom of yours?" I tease. Mine's not much better.

"Daddy made me clean it before we had sex last night. No controller." He says matter-of-factly.

"Check behind the TV stand. Maybe it got bumped and fell back there among all the wires.

" I swear, Carlos has every sound system and gadget known to man plugged in there.

I'm surprised the house hasn't caught fire.

I'm curious if his daddy would help him sort that mess out so it's less of a fire hazard.

"Good idea. What are you up to?" He motions to my state of undress.

"Date."

"A date? Or a date-date?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Both. Hopefully." I wink.

He offers a mock salute as he closes the door behind him. I stare at the closed door, lost in deep thought when my phone pings.

Carlos: Found it. Have fun on your date. laughing devil emoji Tell me all about it tomorrow.eggplant emoji peach emoji

Me: thumbs up emoji

Tossing on a pair of AussieBum underwear, I check myself over in the mirror–happy that Carlos makes me run with him almost every night. Running has kept me trimmed and my legs toned. I turn to check out the rest of my physique. Yep, the running also has kept my ass a nice round peach emoji.

My cell phone rings on the dresser, pulling me away from the mirror.

"Hey, buddy," I answer when I see Caleb's name and photo pop up on the screen.

"I ner-viss," Caleb says in his little voice.

"Why? Barrett seems like a great guy, and you know he'll take care of you." I try to ease his mind. "What are you going to wear? You need to dress nice. Barrett doesn't know you're a little yet." I tell him, trying to strike a balance between helpfulness and keeping his brain calm.

"But I don't wanna put big clothes on. I hates it." He argues. Which is a lost cause because he never wins. Especially when he's hovering around little space.

"It's a date. Barrett will expect you to look nice."

"He said to dress casually."

"Fine." I concede. "How about a compromise?"

"I hate com-priziz."

After convincing Caleb what to wear so it's a blend of both big and little, ensuring his comfort, I say my goodbyes so I can finish getting ready for my own date.

Taking my own advice, I want to dress nice since it's a date. I opt for a pair of dark-wash, slim-fit jeans, and a button-up dress shirt, keeping it untucked, paired with dress shoes and a matching black belt.

I finish fixing my hair when I hear voices out in the living room. Oh, good lord, what is Carlos telling Marcus? Especially since Carlos was looking for that particular game controller, I know he's in middle space right now. I grab my keys and wallet from the dresser and head out.

"...and what are your intentions with my best friend?" Carlos is saying as I enter the room.

Marcus opens his mouth but doesn't say anything when he sees me, eyes scanning my body up and down.

I take a minute to admire him as well–still not believing he's here.

I'm glad I chose to dress up a little because our looks complement each other very well.

He, too, is wearing jeans and a long-sleeved button-up.

His shirt is a solid chocolate brown with a subtle pattern, paired with brown boots and a belt. He looks…sharp.

"Please stop interrogating my date," I warn Carlos. "Besides… where's your daddy tonight?"

"He'll be here later to pick me up. We're going to the movies tonight. The new scary one is out with the ghosts who scare people out of the house they died in." He tells me with a wide grin, knowing I hate scary movies.

"Sounds like the theme of most scary movies," I deadpan, trying to act like it doesn't affect me.

"You look great, Noah." Marcus steers the conversation away from the scary movie topic and back to the reason why I'm dressed a little nicer than usual.

"You too."

Motioning to the door, "We have dinner reservations and should head out so we aren't late."

"Stay out of trouble, Carlos," I tell him before sticking my tongue out at him, ruffling his hair on my way past him to the door where Marcus sidles up next to me. His hand finds my lower back, and its warmth brands my skin through the fabric of my shirt.

We make our escape to the sound of Carlos singing, Noah and Marcus sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.

???

Slipping into a booth near the back of the dining room at Bamboo Garden, the initial awkwardness of our reunion begins to dissipate, replaced with a familiar comfort from years ago. But my anxiety about opening up to him in regards to what I've been struggling with thrums beneath the surface.

I begin to twist the cloth napkin in my lap.

I look up to see Marcus' narrow honey eyes on me.

"Now that it's just us," Marcus begins, "I want you to be completely honest with me.

I know you put on a great show for people, but I want to know the real Noah.

The one I used to know. How have you really been?

" He asks me without judgment in his tone.

"I… I've been okay." The words sound unconvincing at best, even to me. "Some days are better than others," I tell him without elaborating.

"Thank you for being honest. I'd like to hear about what's been going on. I know we lost touch, but now that we've reconnected and we're living in the same place, I wouldn't mind getting to know you again. I know we can't just pick up where we left off, but I'd like to try." He tells me.

"I would love that," and I would. My heart felt like it was missing a part of itself, although we were never really together.

Something about him calmed me in a way I have never felt before.

What would have happened if he was around?

Would I have added the new scars? The scars. I feel the muscles in my face drop.

"Why do I feel like there's a but coming on?"He asks.

"But…I need to be honest about some things before we move this any further.

" I feel my eyes stinging at the thought of him rejecting me.

After two years of longing for this man, I've finally gotten him back.

The idea that he would leave me is scary.

But I would rather he know the truth and go rather than for me to get attached and end up broken-hearted.

The waitress coming to take our order gives me a moment to figure out how to navigate this conversation without scaring him off within the first five minutes. The edge of regression is coming on because it would be easier to tell him in a jovial manner. Like when I told my parents.

Wear long sleeves so no one can see what you've done. That was mom.

I'll arrange an appointment for you to speak with a therapist. That was the pediatrician.

What the hell were you thinking?Do we need to hide the knives now? That was Dad.

The disappointment on everyone's faces is ingrained in my memory. I felt so ashamed, but I couldn't stop. It was the only thing that calmed the chaos.

I started the conversation tentatively, circling around anything too deep.

I discussed my job at the coffee shop and playdates at the community center.

I hoped he would show up since his friend had been there a few times with Kai.

I also talk about how I've learned to navigate life as an adult on my own.

Marcus reciprocated and told me about completing his thesis and securing a job at the zoo.

He was initially hired to work with the giraffes, but since Barrett and he are good friends, Barrett was able to get him a departmental transfer fairly easily.

Although he helps take care of the elephants in the day-to-day stuff, most of his job is actual research to study them.

The more Marcus talks, the more I'm mesmerized.

I briefly discussed college and the concerns associated with taking a campus tour and attending classes.

Marcus mentions online courses to start.

I have taken one, but it wasn't for me. I tell him about my ADHD, the struggles with distractions, and the difficulty in studying.

Marcus informs me that there are accommodations available on campus to assist me, such as taking my exams in a quiet room without distractions and even receiving extended time on assignments.

What's this now? I'm dumbfounded. He even mentions that while I study, I should try using noise-cancelling headphones to limit distractions.

"I've seen kids at school with Autism using them, so I just thought it was an Autism thing. You know, like they are overstimulated or something."

"Well, that's one way to look at it," he tells me. "It's to help cancel out the soft noises that we hear, and most of us don't pay attention to. Ambient noise. You can still hear, but it may help your brain not be overstimulated so you can focus."

"Are you sure about all this?" I ask with a soft laugh. "It sounds too good to be true."

My mom's voice pops into my head, reminding me to keep up appearances and always put our best foot forward.

What would she say if she knew I was even considering getting extra help and support like this?

Would I have been labeled as having special education needs while in school?

If so, would it have been so terrible? I knew several kids in high school who were pulled out for extra support.

Would I have struggled as much if I had the support I needed?

"Of course. A lot of people struggle and get the help and support they need.

" He reaches over the table and lays his hand on top of mine.

"If you'd like, Noah, I can help walk you through it.

" I'm at a loss for words. He's offered me more help in the past two minutes than my parents have my whole life.

As the conversation continued, I told him about some of the chaos and noise in my brain. How it has often left me feeling alone or isolated, like an alien from one of my drawings. "Sometimes, the darkness takes over, and it becomes too much," I tell him as a tear leaks from the corner of my eye.

"What…what helps you…you know…cope?" He tentatively asks.

I slowly turn my hand over underneath his.

At first, Marcus intertwines our fingers and offers a comforting squeeze.

But then, I pull on my shirt sleeve just enough so he can see the scars dotting my wrist. Most of them are only an inch or so long, but there is one that is raised and long, running underneath the cuff of my shirt.

My eyes shift to his. The honey color has darkened to a chocolate brown.

Lips parted. He stares for a minute. My eyes are locked on his, but his eyes are locked on the wounds.

"Noah." My name is a whisper leaving his mouth.

Tears leak from his eyes as he releases my hand and scoots out from his side of the booth.

I knew it would be too much. The date is over, and I was right.

It's better that I know now rather than falling deeper into feelings when, eventually, it would all come crashing down anyway.