The Thing About Three

chapter twenty-one | back in june

BACK IN JUNE, on a particularly hot day without a scrap of white in the sky, I got a text from Noah Caraway telling me that he was right outside my house.

I immediately sprang from my bed and rushed to make myself presentable—forgoing my oversized, raggedy t-shirt and shorts and throwing on my jean cut-offs and a yellow blouse, and then hurriedly applied makeup and did a quick rinse of mouthwash before I stumbled out onto my front lawn trying to look like I hadn't been enjoying my summer lying in bed for the past four hours.

Noah was leaning against the old, silver Toyota Corolla he had used throughout high school, wearing black basketball shorts and a grey muscle tee, his dark hair covered by a baseball cap.

The sun was blindingly bright as I ventured toward him, shielding my eyes from the harsh light.

"Hey," I said as I neared him. "What're you doing here? I thought you're supposed to be leaving for football camp today."

He nodded. "I was on my way there when I passed by your neighborhood and remembered that you didn't show up to my going away party last weekend."

I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I just—I don't know. I knew I wasn't going to have that much fun because I wouldn't have known anybody there."

"You would've known me," he pointed out.

"True, but I didn't think you would've wanted to deal with me the whole time. You probably wouldn't have had that much fun with me around."

He shook his head. "No, Claire, I would've had more fun if you had been there." His eyes were locked intensely on mine, making me feel weird.

He wasn't smiling, looking serious in a way that I had never seen from him before then.

"Um, is everything okay?" I asked him, awkwardly searching his eyes for an answer. I went to drop the hand shielding my eyes from my face, but he grabbed it mid-fall and tugged me toward him by it. His other hand snaked around my waist, pressing me flush against him.

His lips were on mine before I could process the moment. I stood frozen for two seconds before I closed my eyes and melted against him in the hot sun, returning his passionate kiss with ease until the merry tune of an ice cream truck sounded down the road and pulled us apart.

I had thought about that kiss often over the months after it had taken place, but stopped thinking about it when new memories of Noah kissing me filled my head.

And we made a lot of those types of memories together.

Ever since that second kiss at work, we tried sneaking kisses whenever we could the rest of that week, both of us enjoying it far too much.

Although it was fun sneaking around and getting drunk off of his touch and attention, it started to wear on me the longer it went on.

Because I wanted more than stolen kisses in a storage closet or behind a customer's vehicle. I wanted a relationship, but I was too scared to say anything in fear of ruining what Noah and I had.

But Noah ended up being the one to say something.

I was walking to the garage to tell Dallas something, cutting through the break room when an arm reached out and grabbed me upon entering, pulling me over to the other side of the vending machine for a sliver of privacy.

Noah was kissing me before I could properly react. "You're gorgeous, you know that?" he whispered against my skin.

I reluctantly pushed him back. "Noah, you're being reckless," I scolded, though I couldn't help but smile and give him a peck on the lips before moving away.