Yuri headed straight outside and found a seat, leaving me torn about who to follow. Sam gave me a small nod and a smile, and I mirrored the gesture before deciding to leave him there.
I was about to call out to Ashly, thinking I'd let her know I'd be outside with Yuri, but she had vanished. With no other choice, I followed Yuri out.
As I stepped outside, I glanced at Ian, who was engrossed in conversation, and caught Noah's unwavering stare directed at me. My breath hitched. Should I smile? Stop? Walk over to say hello? I didn't know what to do.
"Serena!" Yuri's voice broke my train of thought.
Even as I turned, my eyes couldn't help but flicker back to Noah. His gaze trailed down to my outfit, and he tilted his head slightly. Was he lost in thought?
A group of girls passed by, one of them accidentally bumping into me, snapping me out of my daze. Instead of standing there awkwardly, I walked over to Yuri and the table.
He had already set my plate down and grabbed drinks for both of us. I ran a hand through my hair before sitting down.
"Sorry about that. I was looking for Ashly, my cousin. She's around somewhere, but I couldn't find her," I explained.
"You should just text her. There are a lot of people here. Maybe she's with her friends," Yuri suggested with a casual shrug.
"You're right," I replied, pulling out my phone to text Ashly that I was by the pool, eating with Yuri.
After sending the text, I picked at my food while chatting with Yuri. Some people came over to greet him, exchanging high-fives like old friends. They seemed to be seniors, probably his teammates.
As Yuri introduced me, I stole a glance at Noah's table. They were laughing now, surrounded by a few girls. I noticed Ian nudging Noah toward a petite, fair-skinned girl with side bangs. She was smiling at Noah's bandmates, and my stomach churned.
"So, do you have a curfew?" Yuri's question brought me back to our table, pulling my attention away from the chaotic buzz around us.
I turned to him, trying to clear my head and shake off the unease that lingered from earlier. "Uhm, no. I don't," I replied with a faint smile, fiddling with the rim of my glass.
"Really? That's cool," he said, leaning back in his chair as if processing the information. "So, if I ask you to prom, your parents wouldn't mind? I'll have you home by 11 or 12, tops," he added casually, though his eyes studied me with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
The question caught me completely off guard. My fingers tightened around my glass as I took a sip of juice, hoping to buy myself a moment to process.
Prom?
He wanted to take me to the Grade 12 prom? I mean, Yuri was a senior—confident, well-liked, and undeniably charming—but still, this was unexpected.
I am only in Grade 10, and seniors rarely asked us to prom.
I swallowed hard and managed to ask, "Sure! When is it?" My voice came out steady, betraying the swirl of thoughts running through my mind.
"February 14th," he replied, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Really? Are you sure?" he pressed, leaning in slightly with a raised eyebrow, like he couldn't believe how quickly I'd agreed.
"Well, no one else has asked me," I admitted, offering a small, self-conscious smile.
Yuri's face lit up. "Yes! Woohoo!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in victory before shutting his eyes tightly, as if savoring the moment like he'd just hit the jackpot.
His enthusiasm was so infectious I couldn't help but laugh softly. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his excitement drawing the attention of a few nearby friends.
"Dude, what's the celebration?" one of them called out, walking over with a curious grin.
"Serena's going to prom with me!" Yuri announced proudly, his voice carrying across the table.
"No way! Bro, you scored big!" the guy said, slapping Yuri on the back as a couple more of his friends gathered around, laughing and teasing him like he'd won the lottery.
My cheeks flushed at their attention, and I ducked my head slightly, feeling both flattered and overwhelmed.
"So, Serena, first prom, huh?" one of them teased. "Yuri here's a good pick. He'll show you a good time."
"Hey, hey, no pressure," Yuri cut in with a chuckle, throwing his hands up defensively. "I'll be on my best behavior, promise!"
I laughed along with them, but deep down, I couldn't shake the strange mix of feelings welling up in me.
The idea of going to prom with Yuri felt surreal, exciting even, but a small part of me nagged at the thought of someone else watching from afar—someone with piercing eyes and an expression I couldn't quite read.
"Yes! Woohoo!" he exclaimed, closing his eyes like he'd just hit the jackpot.
"Yeah, bro!" His friends cheered, crowding around and slapping his back like he'd won a major victory.
I felt my cheeks heat as Yuri's basketball varsity friends beamed at me. Laughter and teasing filled the air, drawing the attention of some bystanders.
"What's going on?" A girl who seemed to know Yuri's group asked, glancing our way.
I turned to check on Ian and his band, only to realize they were heading toward us. Oh no.
"What's up, dude?" Ian's voice rang from behind me as he exchanged high-fives with the guys.
"All good, man. Great party, huh?" a familiar voice responded, and I felt my stomach flip.
Is Noah behind me?
I bit my lip, glancing at Yuri, who had stood up, laughing as one of his friends slung an arm over his shoulder. Their hushed conversation left me alone with the growing crowd at our table.
Goosebumps rose on my arms as I noticed a hand resting on the edge of the table. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, revealing a wristwatch—Nixon, bold and striking. My heart raced as his other hand gripped the back of my chair.
"You came to flirt, or you came for me? Which is it, Sar?" Noah's voice was low, cold, and impossibly close, sending a shiver down my spine.
My breath hitched at the weight of his words. I stared at the table in front of me, my fingers nervously brushing against the edge of my plate.
He was too close—his presence overwhelming, his tone too sharp, too accusing.
"I am not flirting, Noah," I replied firmly, though my voice was quieter than I wanted it to be. I refused to look at him, keeping my gaze fixed downward.
"Really? Because that's not what it looks like," he countered, his hand tightening on the back of my chair.
I felt the air shift as he leaned closer, his breath grazing my ear. "You let him ask you to prom, and you said yes. That's not flirting?"
"It's not," I shot back, finally turning my head to glare at him. His piercing eyes locked onto mine, unyielding, challenging. "It's just a dance, Noah. Why do you even care?"
He straightened slightly, his jaw tightening. "Because I thought you like me, Sar."
His words hit me like a freight train. I blinked, stunned, and my heart thudded painfully in my chest.
My mind raced to process what he'd just said, but before I could respond, he leaned in again, his voice softer but no less intense.
"Or you like someone else, now?"
I swallowed hard, my resolve faltering under his intense gaze. "You don't get to decide that, Noah," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.
"No?" he asked, his lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. "Then why are you letting him parade you around like a trophy? Did you only came here… for him.."
I shook my head, trying to hold onto the fragments of my composure. "I came here because I was invited, just like everyone else—" I stopped myself, unsure if I wanted to finish that sentence.
"Of course, you are." he said quietly, almost to himself. "You didn't come here for anyone else but for me. You can't even look at me without giving yourself away."
I felt heat rise to my cheeks, a mixture of frustration and something I didn't want to name. "You're impossible," I said under my breath, finally pulling my hand away and standing up.
"Where are you going?" he asked sharply, his hand catching my wrist before I could walk away.
"Anywhere but here," I snapped, yanking my arm free.
But before I could take a step, he moved in front of me, blocking my path. His expression softened slightly, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face.
"Don't go," he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "Stay here."
I hesitated, torn between wanting to walk away and wanting to stay right where I was—dangerously close to the boy who could unravel me with just a few words.
"So you came for me." His tone was sharp, decisive, not a question but a statement.
I closed my eyes slowly, willing myself to stay calm, and nodded.
His breath grazed my ear, igniting something I couldn't describe. I bit my lip and reached into my purse, pulling out the small gift I'd brought for him.
"Happy birthday," I murmured, holding it out in front of me. I couldn't bring myself to turn toward him.
I heard him let out a soft, amused sound. He didn't take the gift. Instead, his words cut through the air.
"But you're still going to prom with Yuri, huh. I thought you said you weren't flirting with anyone else, Sar."
I turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Like I said, I am not flirting."
"Then reject him," he demanded, his voice cool.
I shook my head, defiant. "I can't. I already said yes, Noah. That would be too rude."
"And why does it matter to you if I go with him? Why don't you want me to? Are you jealous?" I challenged, watching as he straightened, his serious gaze locking with mine.
Unbelievable. Noah said nothing, his silence louder than any words. Rolling my eyes, I placed his gift on the table. I made that for you, idiot. I like this idiot way too much.
His fingers brushed over the edges of the small, square package. Inside was a CD containing piano renditions of three of his songs, ones he'd composed himself.
"Yes, I am. What you gonna do about it?" He grabbed the CD, his movements sudden.
"And I'll join your date. I'll pick you up from your house and from the venue. I am sorry, Serena," he added before turning and walking away.
I sat there, stunned, his words sinking in. What just happened?
My heart thudded painfully against my chest, torn between frustration and a strange, dizzying excitement. Damn that idiot!