Page 8 of In the Middle of No(ah)where (Rockport Ridge #2)

Noah

A s the afternoon draws to a close, I feel a strange sense of lightness.

It's as if, by simply connecting with Marcus, I found a way to break free from the invisible chains of my anxieties.

The pressure of the future still exists, but it doesn't feel crushing.

The fears still linger but are muted, diminished by the warmth of his kindness.

When we leave the aquarium, I feel a sense of hope I haven't experienced in months.

My time with Marcus isn't a cure-all, a magic potion I've read about in one of my books that will solve my anxieties.

But it is a beginning. A steppingstone. A glimpse into the future where maybe, just maybe, I might be able to navigate adulthood.

Navigate the challenges and complexities with someone by my side.

Someone who accepts not a facade of something perfect but the chaotic mess that is me.

That realization causes something to swirl inside me. Filling my stomach with more than just butterflies.

Whatever it is… it's beautiful.

The silence stretches between us as we make our way through the grand courtyard in front of the aquarium, punctuated by the rhythmic sounds of the fountain and the distant chatter of other visitors.

My fingers fidget nervously as Marcus leads me over to a bench. Sitting, I want to say something, but words seem to catch in my throat, tangled in a knot of self-consciousness.

Marcus shifts slightly toward me, and when he looks at me, specks of gold flicker in his honey-colored eyes from the string lights around us.

"I've been coming here for years," he says, being the one to break the spell we're under. "It's…calming."

"Yeah, it is," I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible above the ambient sounds of the fountain. "I…I needed a change of scenery today." The half-lie is sour on my tongue. I needed more than a change of scenery; I needed to escape away from my mother.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he offers me an almost shy smile. "Sometimes, we just need to step back to reflect on what's really important."

His tone is filled with unspoken empathy. He understands. Or at least, he seems to.

Again, we fall into a comfortable silence, a shared understanding passing between us without the need for words.

We watch the sprays from the fountain for a while; the streams are like a silent conversation of their own.

I steal glances at Marcus, and he does the same.

There is a gentleness about him, a kindness that feels comforting and strangely intoxicating.

He breaks the silence again.

"So, Noah, do you have a favorite video game?" His voice and expression are utterly devoid of any hint of ridicule, unlike my parents. I hesitate at first. But then he's been so easy to talk to, accepting, and genuinely interested, that my usual defenses crumble.

"My go-to game is Animal Crossing," I explain. "Are you familiar?"

He shakes his head. "No. Can you tell me about it?" His voice is soft as he shifts even closer to me, his arm on the back of the bench. I scoot closer to him, too, wanting to feel his warmth next to me.

"The game starts off with you choosing the shape of your island.

You then get to name it and are flown there.

You're greeted and explained how to survive.

There are different quests to go on each day, and as the days go on, you get to design the island by planting flowers and trees and building various buildings.

The more quests you complete, the more islanders and residents will join you on your island.

You can also fly to other islands to find rare things you might need to fulfill a quest." I tell him about the landscapes and storylines of the new residents, as well as the calm adventures of visiting other islands in search of specific items. I also explain the escapism it provides.

I describe the sense of accomplishment that came with designing the island.

He listens intently, asking insightful questions and showing a genuine interest in the world I created for myself within the game.

He isn't just passively listening; he's actively engaged, his mind working to understand the intricate details I'm explaining. He sees something more than just a game; he sees a refuge, a world where I can escape the pressures of reality.

His understanding and acceptance are comforting.

As the conversation continues, I realize I'm gradually letting my guard down.

I talk about the things that usually remain hidden, which I guard fiercely from the outside world.

I tell him about my anxieties, fears, and struggles with the pressures of adulthood.

Everything I tell him isn't a complete confession.

Still, it's a start, a crack in the carefully constructed image I had built.

What would he do if he knew about the scars?

There's a fleeting pause in the conversation, and I almost blurt out, I want you to be my daddy. The confession is on the tip of my tongue, but the words remain unspoken, caught somewhere between my lips and my racing heart.

The fear of rejection is prominent.

However, the fear is now less intense, dulled by the warmth of Marcus's acceptance and his genuine kindness. But I know it's too soon for anything like that to happen between us.

I need to stand on my own two feet first. I'm also only eighteen and need more time to discover myself before making such a declaration.

As the evening draws to a close, a strange sense of contentment settles over me. I shared a part of myself that I carefully kept hidden, and Marcus hadn't flinched.

After leaving the aquarium and walking to the parking lot, my hand finds its way into Marcus', and he squeezes it gently. It's natural and not forced. He doesn't pull away, and my heart flutters.

Walking hand-in-hand with Marcus, the familiar anxieties no longer hold the same crushing weight. They're lighter, diminished by his warmth.

What is it about his touch that calms me?

The future still seems daunting, filled with uncertainties and challenges, but it feels less terrifying with Marcus. He accepts me, at least the parts I've shared with him. To expose myself entirely is like stripping myself bare and leaving myself vulnerable. I'm not ready for that yet.

The seeds of trust that Marcus planted are beginning to sprout. His curiosity and gentle probing during our conversations don't feel like an interrogation. It feels…validating.