Typical.

Chapter 8: What I've Gotten Myself Into

“So,” I started, sitting across from Noah. He had his fingers intertwined around his coffee cup, and he stared at it intently, not wanting to make eye contact. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he said after a long pause. He seemed like he was holding his breath.

I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I knew that we’d have the conversation, but I just didn’t know how it would begin. Suddenly, I felt my phone buzzing from my pocket, making me jump, bumping into the table. Noah did nothing but raise an eyebrow as he watched me open the text.

“Hey Evie, when are you coming to visit us again?”

From Niall Horan.

What the fuck?

I didn’t even have any time to be pissed or confused or excited about it.

“That was from Liam, wasn’t it?” Noah said with a sad undertone in his voice that made guilt pool in my gut.

“It wasn’t.”

“Oh,” he said, looking down. “I… I think we should talk about this, though. About Liam, I mean.”

I exhaled loudly and slowly. “I know.”

“Well… there were some… pictures…” he began cautiously.

“I saw the magazine. I didn’t read it but I saw the cover,” I blurted out. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Really?” he said, his head snapping up at me. “You owe me the truth, Evie. Because it looked really bad.”

“Noah, it’s not like that. I was scared and he was comforting me.”

“It doesn’t look like that,” he said accusingly.

“There were people, dozens of people trying to fucking rip my hair out and huge guys with huge cameras taunting me and I just needed to know that someone was on my side. He was holding my hand to comfort me.”

“Evie,” he said, his eyes boring into mine, looking deep into my soul. “Did you cheat on me while you were in London?”

The entire thing replayed in my head—the hungry kisses, the roaming hands, the bated breath. And then I looked up at Noah—his eyes were earnest and loving. He’d always looked at me with a certain shy adoration. I’d betrayed that. Shit. I was going to have to admit to being a shitty person, wasn’t I?

I sucked in a long breath before saying, “Yes.”

He just kept my gaze for a moment, then began to chew on his lip. “Why?”

Why? Was I supposed to tell him why? I didn’t even know why. I mean… I didn’t know what to say. After being devoted to someone for so long, how do you tell them you chose another over them?

“Please, Evie, tell me, you owe me that much.”

“I’ll tell you why if you tell me what happened the night we both got high as fuck.”

His head snapped up. “Shit, Ev… I wasn’t that high.”

“You took ecstasy,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“No, you took ecstasy.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

He leaned back in his chair, then sipped at the coffee.

“We can’t talk about this here,” he said calmly.

“Fine. Well, where do you want to go? Because this conversation is nowhere near done. I need answers and you need answers and then we have to decide what the fuck to do. So please, just… name a place and we’ll go there, because I really need to talk to you about this.”

He bit his lip and nodded towards the door. “Come to my car. Let’s just… drive.”

I nodded and followed him to the door. Like always, he held the door open for me. I insisted on opening my own car door. Noah’s car was a red truck with rust around the rims and three seats up front. It was a pretty old car, but so much had happened there that it had become like home.

As he revved up the engine and began to drive out of town and into the countryside, I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them, resting my chin on my kneecaps.

“We have to talk,” Noah’s smooth voice said as I watched the city fade into empty roads and big expanses of grass and hay.

“You go first.”

“No, you go first. I promise I’ll tell you… just, that, you might not want to talk to me after I tell you.”

Shit.

“Fine. I cheated on you twice. The first time because I was just… emotionally unstable. After I told you my mom hit me and you left me that voice message… I was so mad and I just needed to forget it all and let go and I got a little tipsy and we danced and got turned on and…”

“How far did it go?” he said, I heard a crack in his voice. His eyes were glued to the road. He obviously didn’t want to look at me. I didn’t want to look at myself. What a bitch. That’s hardly an excuse.  I was hurting him.

“We only kissed,” I lied, not wanting to hurt him more.

“And the second time?”

“I honestly don’t know why. We just… started kissing.”

There was a long pause, me staring at him, him staring at the road, choking back tears. I wanted to just open the door and throw myself out of the moving car right then and there. How could I do that? How could I be such a whore? Cheating on my boyfriend with a worldwide pop star? Fuck me.

But I was also proud of myself for asking about that night—I’d always just denied it. Since it all coming back to life, I was ignoring it, trying to withhold it. Now, I was dealing with it, one step closer to finding the truth and coming to terms with it all.

As all these things raced through my jumbled head, I heard Noah’s cracked voice say, “You want me to tell you about the night you got high?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t like it.”

“I don’t care,” I insisted. Even if I didn’t like it, I had to know. I just needed to know.

“Well, Ev,” he said, pulling over to the side of the road and putting the car in park.

Okay. I thought to myself. He just drove me to the middle of nowhere when I know he’s pissed at me and he stopped the car and he’s about to tell me something I won’t like. This’ll end fucking well, won’t it?

I sucked my breath in harshly as he turned to me.