BLINKING MY EYES open, I yawned and rolled over, and found myself nose-to-nose with Noah. His lips were slightly parted, and his eyelashes looked unusually long lying against his cheek like that. He looked so peaceful, so innocent.
I wriggled in closer to him, and watched him sleep. I'd always wondered why people in relationships did that – why they just stared at someone who wasn't even doing anything. But now I understood. It was like seeing them in their most vulnerable state.
After a while, though, when he still hadn't moved and I was too wide awake to even think about going back to sleep, I decided to wake him up.
'Noah,' I said softly, close to his ear. 'Noah . . . Wake up . . .'
He grumbled incoherently, and put an arm around me, pulling me in closer, but he didn't open his eyes.
'Noah,' I said again.
No response.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips gently against his, and then he rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.
'If that's how you're going to wake me up, I wouldn't mind spending the night with you more often,' Noah told me with a gleam in his eyes.
'Ha-ha,' I replied sarcastically, but I was smiling. I brushed some hair out of my face. 'Good morning.'
He kissed the tip of my nose. 'Good morning to you too.' He stretched, and then tugged me back against him. Our legs wrapped together.
Immediately, I jerked my right leg away from him.
'What?'
'Your feet are really cold,' I explained, and he laughed, rolling his eyes. Slowly, I eased my leg back to where it had been a moment ago, avoiding Noah's feet.
We didn't get up for at least an hour; we stayed wrapped around each other in bed, speaking in soft voices and exchanging kisses.
I couldn't have been happier.
I got Noah to drop me at my house. I'd stop by to see Lee later. I was desperate to know if he'd finally said 'I love you' to Rachel (because even if he didn't realize yet, I knew he was in love).
But he still wasn't entirely comfortable with me and his big brother being together. And showing up with the remnants of last night's make-up and my crinkled dress on would just be rubbing his face in it.
I would much rather face my father's disapproving sigh at how I'd spent my night than face Lee looking like this.
'Elle?' Dad called out as I shut the door as silently as possible behind me.
I sighed. I'd have been a terrible rebellious child. I couldn't sneak in or out of the house if my life depended on it. So I called back, 'Yeah, it's me!'
'How was the dance?' he asked, and with a sigh I smoothed my dress out and went into the lounge. Brad was hanging upside down, his feet up on the top of the couch, his head brushing the floor. He glanced over from the Nintendo and went back to playing his game.
'The dance was great,' I answered. 'Except there was a bit of drama involving nuts in the vegetarian dish, and one of the guys is allergic to nuts . . .'
'Boring,' Brad said loudly in a sing-song voice, irritating me as only a little brother could.
'Did you go to the after-party?' my dad asked.
'No . . .' I said cautiously. 'We, um – Noah booked us a room for the night . . .' My voice faded into a mumble before trailing off completely.
'Is that so.' My dad's words swelled with disapproval.
'Nothing happened,' I said quickly, not able to keep my cheeks from burning. Talk about embarrassing . . .
It was Brad who spoke: 'Noah and Elle, sitting in a tree, doing things they shouldn't be . . .' he sang mockingly.
'Whatever,' was my witty comeback, mimicking his voice. He scowled over the top of his Nintendo and I poked my tongue out at him.
'Is it too late to take back what I said last night about my little girl being so grown up, Elle?' Dad laughed, shaking his head at us. I gave him a sheepish smile. 'So you had a good time at the dance.'
'Yup. And you know what Noah did? He actually got the band to dedicate a song to me so he could ask me to be his girlfriend in front of everybody. That's how serious he is about this. About me,' I amended.
'Aw, is ickle Ellie-belly in luuurve?' Brad said in a soppy voice, making kissing sounds and pulling faces at me.
'No!' I said quickly. 'No! Most definitely not.'
Dad could only look at me like he was torn between acceptance and disappointment. I was starting to shrug it off when the doorbell rang.
'I'll get it,' I said quickly, shooting up to open the door.
'I heard on the grapevine that you were back,' Lee said, leaning on the porch fence and grinning at me. The smile went out of his eyes for a moment when he saw me – it was blatantly clear what I'd been up to last night – but he recovered quickly.
'Plus I had to get out of the house,' he went on. 'My parents are going crazy at Noah.'
'Why?'
'Well, for starters, he's been, quote, "God knows where doing God knows what this past week," and he's – again I quote – "going to get kicked out of college before he's even started if he keeps acting as stupid and reckless as this".'
I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair. Lee added, 'It'll blow over. But I'd rather not be around.'
'How was the after-party?'
'You missed some serious shit,' he told me gravely, then cracked another huge smile. 'It was freaking hilarious. Warren got wasted and was doing some major karaoke, complete with dancing and telling everyone he loved them. Funniest thing ever. No fights or anything though.'
'That's because there was no Noah,' I said.
He laughed. 'True, true . . .' He cleared his throat. 'Um, I'd ask how your night went and tease you to "tell me every single detail, girlfriend"' – he put on a falsetto voice and pretended to flip his hair – 'but I don't really want to know all about you doing the nasty with my brother.'
I smiled. 'I didn't think you'd want to know, to be honest. But on that note, my chum, did you and Rachel . . .?'
'No, we did not,' he said, rather proudly, sticking his chin out.
'Really? I thought you guys would've by now.'
'So did I . . .' He shrugged. 'But she said she wasn't ready, so, I don't know, we'll just wait till she is.'
'Aw!' I cooed. I tweaked his nose. 'You're whipped, my friend.'
Lee didn't even argue. He just rolled his eyes at me. And he blushed under all his freckles. I giggled, but not in a mean way.
'Does Rachel know how whipped you are?'
'Well, uh . . .'
'Oh my God! You said it, didn't you? You totally did! You said you loved her! When did you say it? Was it when you were slow dancing? Were you under the stars at the after-party?'
Lee laughed, putting his hands firmly on my shoulders. 'Calm down, Miss Romantic. If you give me the chance, I'll tell you how it happened.' I mimed zipping my lips shut. 'When we were slow dancing, I just kind of blurted it out really quietly. She didn't hear and said, "What?" so I had to say it louder, but she still didn't get it, so I had to say it really loud, and then a few people looked over and she started blushing like crazy . . .' He smiled and laughed. 'It was really cute actually, 'cause then she said it back with this bright red blush – honestly, she was like a beetroot, and—'
I smacked his arm. 'That's so mean!'
'It's not mean, it was cute, I said it was cute! And stop interrupting! Anyway. She said it back, looking like a really cute beetroot,' he said pointedly, 'and I said, "What? I can't hear you," so she had to say it really loud too.'
I smiled. 'Aw, that is cute.'
'You're rubbing off on me,' he said, pushing my shoulder. 'I'm turning all mushy, hanging around with you all these years.'
'Did you kiss her then? After you guys said it?'
'Duh.'
'Aw . . .'
'Are you going to stand here gushing and cooing all day or are we going to watch some Judge Judy? After you take a shower, of course. Your mascara is all smudged.' He poked me under the eyes and then all but skipped past me into the house.
All I could do was laugh and shake my head as Lee made himself at home talking to Brad and my dad while I headed upstairs to clean up and change.
There was something nagging at my mind though: my stupid little brother teasing me about – about being in . . . in love with Noah . . .
I couldn't be.
I mean, I knew at the start it wasn't . . . well, it wasn't anything serious until last night, officially. And even before last night, I couldn't be . . . I wasn't . . .
Was I?