Page 4
Chest wound
S till riding high from my incredible morning, I rush over to Noah’s apartment as soon as my final lesson of the day ends.
Noah is YouTube famous. As a bike courier, his mad skills in New York traffic are legendary because he was shrewd enough to start a YouTube channel under the name WheelWarrior. He wears a helmet cam to record his daily deliveries and has a loyal group of followers. Because his job is incredibly dangerous, my throat catches whenever I’m brave enough to watch one of his viral videos. I take comfort in knowing he has never once had an accident.
The two of us actually met during one of his deliveries when I was teaching a piano lesson, and the father of my student made me sign for the package. Not only is Noah smart and highly driven, but he has the cutest dimples I’ve ever seen.
After my long day crammed with back-to-back piano lessons, I’m eager to spend quality time with my guy. On a whim, I decide to order dinner from our favorite Chinese restaurant on my phone, but when I see the outrageous price for delivery, I make the extra detour to save money.
Loaded down with food, I knock on his apartment door and hear him call out, “Let yourself in!”
Grumbling, I step inside his modest apartment. I’m not surprised to find Noah in an intense multiplayer battle online. He’s calling out orders on his headset to his gaming friends as they fight as a team.
Since I’m used to it, I set the food down on his small kitchen table to wait. He recently created a second channel for gaming. His big plan is to quit the bike delivery gig and push this gaming channel instead. I’m all for it, because I can’t help worrying about him biking in New York traffic.
I tune into his stream on my phone to watch. Although this new channel hasn’t gained traction yet, I’m certain it’s only a matter of time because Noah is extremely good at multiplayer first-person shooter games.
During a short break in the battle, Noah turns off his mic to tell me, “This won’t take long. We’re all about to die.”
“Not a problem,” I assure him. However, after watching him for five more minutes, I’m starting to get annoyed knowing our food is getting cold.
I wave to get his attention and he nods, mouthing, “I’m sorry.” But after waiting another five minutes, I’ve had it and type in his chat, I’m about to head out the door with the food.
As soon as he sees the message in chat, he announces hastily to the group, “Hey, you guys. I have to duck out.”
“But we’ve almost beaten the boss!” SkullCrusher growls.
The only female in the group, AngleEyes, pleads, “What? You can’t quit now!”
“Looks like the little woman is cracking her whip,” DeathMachine snickers.
When I hear the entire group laugh at my expense, I frown at Noah.
“It’s not like that,” he mutters to his teammates before quitting the game amid the sound of their mutual howls of frustration.
I quit his stream when Noah turns off his screen. “Sorry about that, baby. We were so close to beating the final boss, I hated to let them down.”
Walking over to me with his arms open wide, Noah flashes those adorable dimples, and my annoyance melts away.
Wrapping me in a tight hug, he grumbles, “Today has been exceedingly crappy.” Over food, Noah launches into a long tirade about his crabby job before asking me, “How was your day?”
I grin as I kiss him on the lips. “It was amazing!”
Pulling my chair closer, he asks, “So, what made your day so amazing…besides me?”
I give him the side-eye, but the truth is I enjoy his cocky sense of humor. So, I make the conscious decision to forget all about his gaming friends laughing at me.
They’re not important—we are.
“If you can believe this, I went shopping with Gwen at eight this morning to help her pick out a fancy gown.”
“Ah…” he responds distractedly, stabbing his fork into the last pieces of sesame chicken and stuffing it into his mouth.
“Humorously, I ended up finding the perfect dress for myself while I was there. Not that I could ever afford it.”
“Oh, yeah?” he mumbles while chewing the big mouthful.
“Would you like to see it?” I ask, scrolling on my phone to show him the pictures Gwen took. I’m excited to catch Noah’s expression when he sees how gorgeous I looked in the dress.
I notice the glint in his eye when he takes my phone from me, but his smile disappears the moment he sees the photo.
I quickly snatch my phone back, confused by his hurtful reaction. “Don’t you like it?”
An uncomfortable silence settles between us before he mutters in an uneasy tone, “Not my style.”
I stare at the picture again, knowing I look damn hot in the dress. I’m crushed by his negative reaction because this entire time, I thought Noah loved my body.
Rather than give him the satisfaction of making me feel bad about how I look, I raise my chin when I declare, “Well, I look fabulous in this gown.”
“I’m not saying you don’t,” he mumbles defensively, then glances away, adding under his breath, “…if you were walking down the aisle.”
I look at the photo again and burst out laughing. “Noah, did you think this was a wedding gown?”
He gives me a sheepish grin, and I laugh even harder. “You actually thought I was showing you a wedding dress?”
“It’s white, isn’t it?”
Seeing his befuddled expression is funnier than hell, so I hum, “Here Comes the Bride” and the two of us start laughing hysterically. Minutes later, we catch our breath and start putting the leftovers away.
I mutter, “I can’t believe you thought Gwen and I went shopping for a wedding dress.”
“Stranger things have happened when you’re with that girl.”
I frown, slowly closing the fridge door. “What do you mean by that?”
He shrugs. “Everything Gwen does is over the top. She lives in a fantasy world financed by her daddy while the rest of us have to scrape by in the real world.”
Noah must not realize he’s treading into dangerous waters. I reply in a cold voice, “You have no idea what you are talking about. Gwen has worked her butt off to get where she is as an actress.”
Noah holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but Gwen is one of those high-maintenance women I can’t stand. Thank God you’re nothing like her.”
I’m unamused by his answer. “You do realize you are talking about my best friend. Even though Gwen lives an extravagant lifestyle compared to ours, she is as loyal and kindhearted as they come.”
What he doesn’t know is that one of Gwen’s favorite pastimes is to scroll through GoFundMes and animal shelter sites because she loves helping others anonymously.
Not caring for the direction this conversation is headed, I reverse the logic of our argument and ask Noah, “How would you like it if I complained about your gamer friends?”
He huffs. “There’s no reason to bring my friends into this.”
“Why? When you just attacked my best friend so heartlessly? At least Gwen and I have a real history together. You don’t know anything about those people you spend hours with online.”
Noah opens his mouth as if he’s dying to say something, but then forces it shut.
“What?” I challenge. “If you have something to say, just say it!”
“I don’t want to fight with you right now.”
After being forced to defend Gwen, it takes me a hot moment to calm down. “Noah, I don’t get you. All I wanted was to show you how sexy I looked in a dress, and for some reason, it’s turned into World War III.”
“Now that I know it isn’t a wedding dress, why don’t you show me again?” he offers.
This time Noah’s eyes light up, and he whistles in appreciation. “Wow, you really are damn sexy in that dress.”
“Told you!” I exclaim, feeling vindicated.
Raising an eyebrow, he asks, “So, how much was it?”
I answer with a laughing snort, “Eight thousand.”
Noah coughs as if he’s choking. “Are you kidding me? No dress is worth that kind of money.”
“I know,” I agree. But glancing at the photo again, I smile at it sadly, “However, that dress sure does look good on me…”
Noah thrusts the phone back at me, refusing to look at the picture again. Annoyed, I growl, “What’s your problem tonight?”
Waving at my phone dismissively, he says, “I don’t like Gwen manipulating your feelings like that.”
“She’s not manipulating anything. I tried on a dress. End of story.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. In a strained voice, he tells me, “You were fine with how things were before, but now…you want something you can’t have.”
I stare at him in utter confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? It’s just a dress.”
When he shakes his head, it becomes clear to me that he is talking about something else entirely. “What’s going on with you?”
Noah looks pensive. “I know you had your heart set on seeing the fireworks on the river.”
I feel a pit in my stomach. “But…”
“YouTube is holding a live Gaming Event on New Year’s Eve. It’s going to be streamed worldwide, and there’s a $150,000 cash prize for the winner.” His eyes flash with excitement. “This is a huge opportunity for me! Even if I don’t win the tournament, this has the potential to increase my following on both YouTube channels.”
“Why would a gaming event have any impact on your main channel?”
“You know people are suckers for a compelling backstory. There aren’t that many gamers who have a hazardous job like mine. So, no matter how I rank that night, the exposure alone has the potential to bring a huge wave of new followers to my channels.” He puts his arm around me. “That’s why when AngelEyes told me someone dropped out and there was a spot available, I knew I needed to jump on it.”
I back away from Noah, feeling numb.
When I fail to react, he appeals to my deep-seated fear for his safety. “Sophie, if this goes the way I think it will, my future will be set! I’ll finally be able to quit my day job. Just think…you won’t have to worry about me getting hurt on the road anymore.”
Sometimes, I hate that I’m so damn practical. But Noah’s desire to quit his courier job is something we both want. I can’t help worrying about him every single day because of how my father died.
“Fine,” I answer half-heartedly. And just like that, the New Year’s Eve he promised me dies an unexpected death.
Noah lets out a sigh of relief. Grinning like an idiot, he tells me, “I’ve already reserved you a seat in the gallery so you can cheer me on while I play.”
That’s when the cold realization hits me, and I cry, “You already made this decision to go without talking to me first?”
“I had to, but I’ll make it up to you. I swear!”
“That’s what you said on my birthday.”
“Baby, I’m doing this for both of us. Don’t be mad,” he pleads.
I stare at Noah in disbelief. “If you had talked to me first, I would have understood and supported you because I’m invested in your future. But you didn’t even give me that respect.”
I move to the window, needing distance between us, and look out over the lights of the city. I feel resigned to disappointment as I glance down at the patch of dirty snow on the pavement under the glow of the streetlight.
“Sophie?”
Turning back to Noah, I decide to take a stand. “Considering the shabby way you’ve treated me, I would rather spend New Year’s Eve watching the ball drop in my apartment than sit in some gallery watching you play video games all night.”
The look of disappointment on his face confuses me when I’m the injured party here.
Feeling hurt, I gather my purse and jacket and mutter on my way out, “I hope this is worth the sacrifice…for both our sakes.”
As soon as I leave his building, I text Gwen. Hey G, give me a call when you have a minute.
Knowing she’s in rehearsal, I’m both surprised and relieved when she texts me right back.
We’re about to start the next scene but don’t worry, Soph. My date for New Year’s Eve has been secured. Everett said yes.
“No…” I whimper. I was hoping to catch her before she found my replacement.
Why didn’t Noah talk to me about this sooner? It cuts deep, because I thought we were much closer than that.
Now, I’m left feeling even more pathetic and alone.
Snarling under my breath, I attract the attention of a woman walking past. She scowls at me and quickens her pace.
This New Year’s Eve is officially going down as the lamest of my entire life!
Walking to my car, it feels as if I’ve been hit in the chest by all the twists and turns that happened tonight. Standing at the curb, waiting for the light to change, I happen to glance up as a taxi passes by.
I briefly lock eyes with a man sitting in the back seat.
Butterflies flood my system when I realize it’s the same guy from this morning. What are the chances of that in a city the size of New York?
A smile tugs at my lips as I watch his cab disappear into the darkness.
Could it be fate?