Remember Me

Six

Needless to say, when you live with Noah Dillon – it is quite impossible to forget his presence. 

He spent the whole night of last night busting out some heavy metal rock music. Such sweet sound to his ears.

Such sweet sound to my ears when it finally stopped at around four am.

"You're tasting this juice. It's heaven in a glass," Noah states as I spread pate on my toast. 

I turn around, the buttering knife in my hand. 

"Wow!" Noah steps back, hands shaking in front of him. "I just offered you a glass of juice." 

I smirk, putting the pate smothered knife back on the chopping board. "It's fine, thank you. I have some orange juice here." I reject the offer.

Noah nods, putting the carton of juice back in the fridge. "Ungrateful." He mumbles.

"Oh don't start all this, Noah." I retort. "You're like a five year old!" 

"I'm not starting anything!" Noah argues, screwing the cap of his sports bottle closed. 

"Good." I chirp. "Let's keep it that way."

"Let's." Noah chimes, walking down to his bedroom. I was wearing black leggings, a denim shirt and a pair of white low-top Converse. 

I have packed about a million folders and books, my iPad, a Kind granola bar, and a bottle of water. All of these things were packed in my big black fake leather bag. 

I chase Noah down to his bedroom. 

"Noah," I say. "I meant to ask you, what is it exactly that you're studying?"

"Photography." He informs me, heading to the bathroom. He picks up his toothbrush. 

Oh my gosh. The red food dye. This is it. I have the best timing ever. 

One thing I learned when I went into Noah's bathroom is that he has two toothbrushes. Either that, or he is hiding someone in here that I don't know about.

I'm guessing that he used the other toothbrush yesterday, hence no mouthful of red teeth.

He picks up the toothbrush I planted the food dye in, and squeezes a small pea of Colgate toothpaste onto the bristles. 

The next few moments went by in slow motion. Noah finishes brushing his teeth, un-aware of any signals. 

After that, he spots it. "Auden!" he shouts. 

I squeal with laughter and sprint down the apartment. I grab my black bag, a slice of my toast and then I run out the door. 

I slam my finger on the lift. "Come on, come on, come on." I plead for the lift to open.

I hear the door slam. He's coming. He is definitely coming. 

Just as I get a glimpse of a somewhat stormy looking Noah, the lift doors opens. I practically shove a man out of my way.