Summer's Last Breath

Part 5

Jamie had kissed me on Sunday.


It was now Friday afternoon. I was sitting in art class, my last class of the day. Instead of desks, we had big, wide tables with benches to sit on, offering more workspace. We didn't have assigned seating and the space beside me remained empty, as it would until Noah arrived. He was always late, sliding into his spot after the bell rang. He'd sat beside me on the first day of school and every day since.


Noah was my other best friend. The guy best friend. He was also Jamie's younger brother.


We were friends long before I'd even noticed Jamie. I mean, I'd noticed him. You didn't not notice the Jacobs brothers. It wasn't until sometime last summer, when Noah and I were hanging out at the beach, that I really noticed Jamie for the first time. He'd stopped by the towel Noah and I were sharing to steal Noah's water bottle. The Jacobs drank lots of water, as they tended to dehydrate faster than regular humans. I'd watched Jamie behind the dark lens of my sunglasses, the long column of his throat working as he downed nearly the whole bottle at one time. He ignored Noah's protests to get his own. It was the first time I'd felt the fluttering of awareness in my stomach.


Friends or not, no way could I tell Noah I was crushing on his brother. He'd laugh. And really, it was pretty funny, in an embarrassing kind of way, because despite that kiss, there was no chance in hell Jamie would ever be interested in me. He had just been messing with me, and that made him a jerk. He probably thought I was one of those groupies guys like him attracted in droves. I knew girls moved down to the coast and loitered at bars like the Salty Dog and Flounders where a lot of the Navy guys hung out, hoping to catch a husband. 


As usual, Noah slipped in the door right as the bell rang, earning him a stern look from Mr. Foley, the art teacher.


"Hey, Noah," I said once he settled beside me. 


Why couldn't I be crushing on him? He was a kinder, gentler version of Jamie. Same height just with less bulk. Same ocean eyes, but they were a darker shade of green, like new budding leaves in spring. Where Jamie had short, dark hair, Noah wore his long. It brushed the tops of his shoulders, the blond, sun-kissed strands tucked behind his ears. If Jamie were a craggy mountaintop, then Noah was that same mountain, snow capped. 


"I hate school." He dropped his backpack on the floor at his feet. "It's such a waste of time." 

I patted his back. I got this tirade every day. It was best to let him get it out. He'd been locked up going on seven hours. Seven hours away from the Gulf water. I understood it made him a little testy. I wondered if that was why Mr. Foley never gave him a hard time, because he knew Noah had special needs the school refused to meet.


"You know there's this thing called homeschool," I offered in a sympathetic tone. A lot of his kind went that route. Made sense, I guess. 


"My mom is into the whole idea of integration. She wants me to learn to get along with everybody," he said, his voice filtered in disgust. Apparently this was a problem for him. 

He did seem to attract a certain amount of negative attention from some of the guys, like Jax Harrison and Derrick Nash to name names. They'd all been friends at one time but it was like once we got into high school, instead of seeing Noah as a friend, he became the competition. Jax and Derrick were both rich. Both good looking. Both popular. And both just insecure enough to see Noah as some type of threat to their status. In their eyes, because Noah was different, he shouldn't be allowed to compete with them. Unlike me, not everyone was totally enamored with the idea of another species, and in some ways, a superior one. Some viewed them as having a disease, or like bugs that needed to be squashed. 

"Well, I've got a proposition for you. It'll give you a chance to show your gentler side."


"What is it?" He leaned over the table, resting his head on his elbow. Like Jamie, he had a particular smell. Unlike Jamie's scent which I found entirely intoxicating, Noah's was merely mildly pleasant.


"Well, how about we put it to the test? Jax is having a party tomorrow night. Come with me." I needed a distraction. Something to do other than wait for my cell phone to ring, or a text message to beep. It's not like I'd given Jamie my number or anything, but he knew where I lived. So I could only conclude that he didn't want to see me. 


"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Noah said as he took the sheet of manila paper Charlene Goodson was passing out to the class.


"Y'all should totally come." Charlene smiled and leaned over just enough to give Noah a nice view of the swells of her breasts over the pink lace of her pushup bra. I wanted to advise her that if she really wanted to get Noah's attention she would have to go for a more subtle, less in your face method. Not that he wasn't looking. He was a dude and Charlene was pretty and she was sweet in a syrupy kind of way. And she was clearly into him. 


"Oh, come on. It'll be fun." I nudged him with my foot under the table. Plus, I knew if I went with Ally she would dump me as soon as we got there. Jax was her mark for the year, and she'd already set her plan of attack in motion. 


"I've heard that before," he said, but he was watching Charlene make her way down the table. She didn't smile or lean over for anyone else. "If you have to convince me, it means it'll be no fun."


"Loud music. Beer. Charlene." I elbowed him. "Drunk bros. What's not fun about that?"


"'Fun drunk bros' sounds like an oxymoron," Noah said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Which wasn't a no.
 

"I'll pick you up around nine. You can wear real clothes and everything." Not his usual board shorts, no shirt, and water. 


"Sucks already." He picked up his charcoal pencil and started in on his sketch. His brow furrowed in concentration and a piece of hair fell over his cheek. He had an artistic streak, which was another reason I thought Mr. Foley never got onto him for his tardiness. "I'm not wearing shoes." 


I smiled to myself and stared at my paper, at the puppy that looked more like a mushroom under my less than artistic hand. My eye-hand coordination didn't translate from hand to pencil. My gaze darted sideways. Noah had a very realistic and graceful sketch of a dolphin jumping out of the ocean, complete with its perpetual smile.


"You're such a dork."


He smiled sideways at me. "That's why you like me."


A paper airplane flew over his shoulder and landed with impressive accuracy on his sketch. He sighed and unfolded it. It was a sketch of a person that I assumed was supposed to be Noah. He had long hair and a fish between his legs in place of a penis.


"Ignore them, Noah." I turned and glared at Derrick from over my shoulder. His table was full of those same bros who would be drunk tomorrow night. And they thought they were so funny and clever.


Of all the times Noah had been picked on, I'd never seen him retaliate. He punched Chad Johnson in the face that one time during Spring break last year, but that was only because Chad had been all hands with me at the beach. I'd told him no several times and even hit him myself, but he still wouldn't get the hint. Noah ended up breaking his nose and cracking two of his ribs. Chad's parents had wanted to press charges, but my dad had talked them out of it. 


It was frustrating for Noah, knowing he could wipe those d-bag smirks right off their faces so easily. His self-control was astounding.
 "You know with me at the party, it won't end well." He crumbled the paper in his hand, his sigh resolute.


"Who knows?" I said. "It might be the night of your life."


He snorted his disbelief and went back to his sketch.
 

As it turned out, it would be the night of my life.