'SO WHAT EXACTLY have you got in mind?' I asked Noah. He was putting plates in the dishwasher when I brought in a few empty glasses. Lee was outside in his car, fiddling with his new stereo. Brad was watching TV, the parents all talking about . . . well, whatever it was they talk about. I'd been waiting for the opportunity to talk to Noah alone.
He looked up, twisting his head to look under his arm, which was leaning on the counter as he bent to load the dishwasher.
'Earlier,' I explained, 'your texts said you had something in mind for later for me.'
'Oh, that.'
'Yeah, that. So are you going to tell me what it is?'
'Telling you would defeat the whole point of it being a "surprise", you know.'
'I had a feeling you'd say that,' I groaned, passing him the glasses. He put them in, then stood up and kicked the dishwasher closed.
Pulling me into his arms, he breathed in my ear, 'If I told you it involved Lee's present for you . . .' His lips brushed over my jaw.
I didn't know how to reply to that – but I couldn't have done so anyway; I seemed to have suddenly lost my voice.
Noah gave a quiet chuckle. 'That wasn't what I had planned, though,' he said, pulling back to give me that devilish smirk. 'I was going to take you somewhere. I know you'll love it. But it's got to be a surprise.'
'Right . . .' I racked my brain. I knew it couldn't be going to see the sunset or fireworks again; it had to be something different . . . but Noah seemed so full of surprises now, it could be anything.
'Although,' he said thoughtfully, 'if you do want to put Lee's present to use later on . . .'
I blushed, burying my face in his shoulder so he didn't see my blush. But he laughed and kissed the top of my head, his arms tight around me.
Ignoring his comment, I hugged him back. 'I love you.' The words were out of my mouth like a reflex, rolling off my tongue like they were the most natural three words in the world to say to my best friend's big brother.
He kissed the top of my head again and said, 'I love you more.' I shook my head into his shoulder.
We didn't say anything else. Just stood there in each other's arms, in our own little bubble.
'Oh! Sorry – don't mind me, just grabbing a drink!'
We pulled apart a little, and I saw June grabbing a glass of water. When she turned around, she gave us a smile – it wasn't one that said 'caught red-handed'; it was more like 'you kids are adorable'.
At least we hadn't been making out or anything.
Now, that would've been just plain awkward.
Noah's mom went back into the lounge and I looked back at him. 'So when are we going to this surprise place?'
'Now, if you want. It won't take too long.'
'Now? Really?'
He shrugged. 'If you want to go now, then sure.'
I grinned suddenly. 'Can I drive?'
'Drive to a place you have no idea about . . . Because that's such a smart idea, isn't it, Elle?'
'Well – you can tell me where to drive, right? Please, please, please?' I gave him my best, biggest grin, so excited at the prospect of taking my new car for a spin.
'All right, fine! But you can't blame me if you guess where we're going and it spoils the surprise, all right?'
I giggled. 'What is it with you and surprises, anyway?'
He shrugged. 'I thought it was more romantic than saying, "Hey, Elle, I'm going to take you to . . . to see the sunset and a firework display," and you've always loved those corny romance movies.'
'Well . . .' I bit my lip sheepishly. 'Okay, okay, I see your point. Let's go.'
'Impatient, much?'
'Okay, just take a left here . . . then second right. There should be a parking space there.'
I followed his directions, and wished I hadn't asked to drive here. I was so focused on not scratching the car that I had to keep my eyes on the road. I couldn't let my eyes roam around the streets and try to figure out where we were headed. I didn't recognize any of these roads – I didn't have any clue where he was leading me, and even less of a clue as to what this surprise was.
I found a space to park and got out of the car, hearing Noah's door slam shut too.
'All right, then,' I said, unable to rein in a grin. 'Lead the way.'
He smirked, and grabbed my hand as he stepped up onto the sidewalk beside me, linking our fingers together. Our arms swung like a pendulum as we walked back in the direction we'd come from.
Looking around, I realized we were no longer in the city, or even a town. Some of the houses seemed to have been converted – the ground floor occupied by a florist's shop, or a baker's. I still had no idea where we were, but it looked nice. There were a few trees planted on random squares of grass, and flowers blooming on the windowsills. There were a few people milling around, one or two dog-walkers amongst them, and the occasional car driving past.
It was a quaint little village. I heard church bells peal somewhere off in the distance, as if to echo my thought.
I turned back to Noah, who caught my eye and gave me that half-smile, half-smirk, like he thought keeping me in the dark about where we were going was funny.
I smiled back, squeezing his hand.
'Here we are.' He stopped, and I took a step back, letting him lead me into the shop we stopped outside. There was a dark green awning over the doorway, casting a shadow over Noah's face as he pushed open the door. A bell tinkled – it was a cute kind of sound, reminding me of the fairy in Peter Pan.
Then it hit me. The smell.
It was a gorgeous aroma: sweet vanilla, strong cocoa, the hazy sweetness of melted sugar, and the all-round stomach-rumbling, mouth-watering scent of chocolate. It drifted out of the shop the second Noah opened the door, blasting me full-force and making me gasp.
I stepped inside ahead of Noah, who held the door open for me. Only a few months ago, I remembered going into his house behind him to see Lee. He knew I was there, but didn't even think of holding the door for me – just let it swing shut for me to catch on the way in. He didn't do it out of spite: it was just Noah Flynn being typical Noah Flynn.
But I didn't miss the way he held the door for me now. It seemed so trivial, so unimportant, but I shot him a smile nonetheless.
Then I let the smell of the chocolate wash over me again. The shop was lit by warm, firelight-yellow lamps. On the floor was a dark, mahogany-colored carpet, and the walls were a soft cream color. There was a counter with a cash register on it – some childish part of me was delighted to see that it was a really old cash register, the kind that had buttons like an ancient typewriter and made a loud ring when you opened the drawer.
The shop looked as sweet as it smelled, and as I turned in a slow circle, my mouth forming an O and my eyes widening in sheer awe, I saw all the chocolates.
I didn't know what to do – where to look first; what to say to Noah.
'Hello, dears!' trilled a voice. It was the sort of voice you knew belonged to an old person, and when I looked up from the pralines lined up on the glass counter, I saw a woman who was in her sixties or seventies. She was just the kind of person you could picture owning a candy store.
She was plump, with really rosy cheeks, and dark gray hair pulled back into a bun, wispy strands escaping around her face. She wore jeans and a white cotton blouse, with a bright pink apron tied that was stained with chocolate and sugar and cream, icing and syrup and fudge. Some of it looked almost decades old, like it was a part of the apron itself, but some had clearly been slopped down her that morning.
'Hi,' Noah said, strolling past me. 'I called ahead, earlier? My name's Flynn.'
'Oh, of course, of course! I remember. I've got it right here for you, dear! Just give me two seconds!' The woman gave a motherly smile, before bustling backwards, knocking over a stack of cardboard boxes as she did so. Luckily, it sounded like they were all empty.
'Whoops-a-daisy!' She shoved them back into place, laughing at her own clumsiness. As she retreated out of sight, I heard her humming tunelessly to herself in the back of the shop.
'You called ahead?' I asked, and Noah turned to look at me. I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. 'How'd you even know about this place, anyway?'
'I, um . . .' He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. 'Remember when – no, you probably don't – but when we were really little, I read that book, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I kind of got it in my head that I wanted to go to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, and my mom – and your mom, I remember, she tagged along too – my mom brought me here because she said it was close enough. I remembered about it a couple of years back and took a bus up here to find it again.'
It took a minute to sink in. For one thing, it was so un-Flynn-like for him to disclose a personal memory like that; for another, thinking of him as such a cute little kid wanting to visit Willy Wonka made me want to giggle. Not in a mean way – in a cute way.
Though I didn't think he'd appreciate me mentioning the cuteness.
So instead I said, 'I remember. I wanted the book for a school project. There were no copies left in the library, and Lee told me you had one so there was no point in buying it, and you wouldn't let me have it.'
'Oh, yeah.' He laughed and bit his lip, looking a little sheepish. 'What was my excuse again?'
'You didn't have one,' I said after a moment. 'You just wouldn't let me.'
He nodded. 'That sounds about right.'
'You really wanted to go to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory?' A little teasing note had crept into my voice, my smile spreading wider again.
'I was like, eight, okay? Give me a break.'
We both laughed, just as the woman came back holding a big, flat white box with a purple ribbon around it. 'Here you are!'
Noah clasped his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth briefly on his heels.
I got the message, and jolted. 'They're for me?'
'What, did you think I really forgot to get my girlfriend a birthday present?' He gave me a devilishly handsome grin, and the old woman laughed kindly.
'Well, it – it just didn't occur to me earlier.'
'Shelly. I have always got you a birthday present.'
'You got me a whoopee cushion one year.'
'It was still a present. And I was a twelve-year-old boy that year, if I remember. Did you expect me to buy you something nice or meaningful?'
I laughed. 'Well, no.'
'And you really think I just forgot you, this year especially?'
I shrugged sheepishly. When he hadn't given me a present earlier, I didn't exactly ask him where it was. For one thing, it would've been incredibly rude. But when he said in his text that he had 'something in mind for the birthday girl', I thought maybe he'd take me out somewhere, even if only to make out, instead.
I took the box from the lady. 'Thanks.'
'One of everything in there,' she said. 'Well, as much as I could fit in two layers. But I made sure you got the nicest things. You're not allergic to nuts, are you, dear?'
'N-no.' I only stammered because she spoke pretty darn fast – with an excitement that seemed to be part of her warm personality.
She smiled. 'Good, good, good! Well, feel free to have a look around – unless you're not stopping. In which case, I'll ring up that order for you right now.'
'Uh . . .' I looked at Noah. I had no idea if we were just here to pick this up, or if he had any other plans. I mean, he was full of surprises these days.
He put up his hands and shook his head, giving me a small smile. 'You've got the car keys.'
I bounced around on my toes at that, beaming brightly. 'Oh yeah!'
'Tell you what's really good,' the lady said, pottering over to one cabinet. She pulled open a drawer and lifted out a tray; I'd drifted after her, Noah half a step behind me.
It was a tray of tiny squares of chocolate, each one labeled with tiny handwriting, so loopy it was practically illegible. They looked like tiny cuts of larger slabs, and the scent wafting up to my nostrils and settling on my taste buds was enough to make me drool.
'This one' – she pointed – 'has that popping candy in it. Strangest sensation in the world, popping candy! And this one's mango-flavored. I've got a few fruit-flavored ones like that.'
'How about orange?' Noah asked, and I felt his body press against my back, a hand resting on my forearm as he leaned over me to look at the tray.
'Ah-ha, here we are!' She picked one square up and handed it to Noah. He took it and popped it in his mouth.
'This is my taster tray,' she told me, seemingly reading my mind. 'Go ahead, dear, help yourself!'
With that, she pushed the tray into my hands and left me to peruse it at my leisure.
The bell tinkled again, and I glanced over my shoulder to see a woman walk in. 'Hey, Mabel,' she said to the shop owner. I turned back to the tray.
Noah reached over me and plucked out another square at random. He made a choking noise, and when I looked at him, his face was scrunched up in disgust, but he swallowed hard. 'Coconut.'
I laughed. 'Oh, right. Well, you should've read the label, idiot.'
'I tried,' he muttered in my ear.
I stifled a laugh, and hesitated, my fingers drumming the air as I tried to decide which one to try. White chocolate? Dark chocolate? One with sprinkles? A coffee one, a fruity one, a solid chocolate one?
The cursive scrawl of Honeycomb caught my eye, and I picked that one out. I was half glad of the old lady's writing being so hard to read. If I knew what all these flavors were, I'd want to try them all.
We picked out a couple more and went over to the cash register.
'So how long have you kids been together?' the woman, Mabel, asked.
'Um . . .'
'Couple of months,' Noah answered. 'But we've known each other practically our whole lives.'
'Well, now, that's just sweet as apple pie! Always see young couples coming in here, you know, and let me tell you, if I had a wall of fame with them all on, you two would be right there near the top.'
I laughed. 'We're that cute together, huh?'
I noticed Noah's grimace at the word, but he didn't say anything, instead taking out his wallet and handing over the cash. As we bundled our purchases into a bag, the woman handed us over a box of fudge.
'You can have these ones on the house,' she said, smiling.
'Oh, no, it's—'
'It's your birthday, right?' I nodded. 'Well, happy birthday then!'
I smiled. 'Thank you.'
One of Noah's arms snaked around my waist. I automatically leaned back, my head fitting into that spot between his neck and his shoulder. Again, the clichéd romantic in me wondered how we seemed to fit so perfectly, two pieces of a jigsaw, and have such different, clashing personalities. Noah planted a kiss on the side of my forehead, and right then, I didn't care how bad we were for each other or that he'd be off to college soon; I just remembered that I was in love with him.