The Trouble with Faking (23 page)

“I still think of Tyrone, of course. I think of how different life might be if that night had never happened. I think of everything I could have done to prevent the accident. But … those kinds of thoughts are torture. I try to stay away from them.

“So.” He pushes his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “That’s what happened. That’s why Tania and Carmen hate me.”

We sit for a while in silence as my mind runs over everything he said. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” I ask eventually.

“Well … partly because you made it clear that you think private lives should remain private, so—”

“Wait, I said that in a moment of extreme anger. You know I don’t feel that way anymore, so don’t make it my fault that you didn’t say anything.”

“And the other part,” Noah continues, “is that … I didn’t want it to change the way you see me. I’ve let so many people down. All the things I’ve done wrong … they’re always following me around like shadows I can never get rid of. I’ve changed, and no one speaks about the person I used to be, but everyone knows. Everyone remembers. Everyone except you. You could see me simply for who I am now and not for who I used to be.”

I lean forwards and place my head in my hands, not knowing how to respond to him. Does my opinion of him matter so much that he’d keep this from me? Is that the truth? Is any of what he’s told me tonight the truth? “Noah, I … I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through. And this does change how I see you, but not in the way you think. It doesn’t make me think less of you. It makes you … more
real
to me.”

He breathes out a sigh that sounds relieved. “That’s all I wanted. I just wanted us to be real. I pushed and pushed until eventually you were real with me, and only then did I realise how scared I was to be real with you. I wanted to tell you everything the night I came to see you at your sister’s flat. I wanted to get everything out so we could start afresh. I figured you were already angry with me at that point, so how much worse could I make it? But then … things went well that night, and we were laughing and getting along, and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin that.

“And then tonight, after the video, I was planning to bring it up, but then … I let myself get distracted. And then Tania was there and it came out anyway, but it was so much worse than if I’d told you myself. As if God were saying, ‘Well, I’ve given you enough chances and you haven’t told her, so I’m putting it in someone else’s hands to tell her instead.’ And I couldn’t look at you because I was afraid to see how angry you were.”

“I wasn’t angry. I was … confused.”

Noah looks up. “And are you angry now?”

I look down at my hands. At my fingers that, not many hours ago, were entwined with his. “I don’t know what I am,” I murmur.

Noah looks away from me and out over the city. “Okay.”

“It’s just that earlier tonight, you asked me if I trust you. I said yes, and I meant it. But now I have no idea what else you might be hiding.”

He turns to face me. “This is me, Andi.” He spreads his hands out, palms up. “The real me. The ugly bits and the good bits. There’s nothing left to hide.”

I nod slowly. “Maybe … maybe we just need some time. Because right now I don’t know how to trust you.”

I sleep through my alarm the next morning and wake up ten minutes before my first lecture begins. “Crap,” I mumble, dropping my phone back onto the desk. I lie in bed for another few minutes, listening to the rain outside—
don’t think about Noah
—then force myself out of bed. I shuffle out to the landing—
don’t think about Noah
—find a small tub of yoghurt in the fridge Carmen and I share, and sit on the edge of my bed while eating it and staring at the paper heart on my pinboard. Not the one from Damien. I pulled that off and threw it away weeks ago. I’m staring at the one from—

Don’t think about Noah.

But I can’t focus on anything else. He’s there all the time, in every thought that passes through my mind. The coffee shop visits—

Best French toast in the world.

—the afternoon I watched him play Savage Time with his young cousins—

Whatever the rules are, it generally ends up with all four of them attacking each other in a heap on the ground.

—the moment he saw right through me—

So essentially … this heroine is you.

—the day he confronted me about my mother—

Life isn’t perfect, and that’s okay.

—the night he came to Livi’s to apologise—

If anyone should be feeling awkward, it’s me, knowing what you overheard.

—his story last night—

I woke up in the hospital a day later to the news that my best friend was dead.

It hits me suddenly. A pain in my chest. A pain that comes with the realisation that
I love him
and instead of telling him that, instead of pulling him into my arms and comforting him after that horrific story about his friend’s death, my last words to him were, ‘I don’t know how to trust you.’

I toss the empty yoghurt tub into my bin, hurry to the bathroom, and brush my teeth. I think Noah may have left already, but I’ll stop at Smuts on the way to my next lecture just in case. I rush back to my room, pick up my phone to check the time—and only then do I see all the emails notifying me of the comments on the YouTube video I uploaded last night. I almost ignore them and carry on getting ready, but the most recent one says,
Have you seen this yet, Andi? We’re dying here waiting for your response!!!

“What?” I murmur.

There are so many emails that instead of opening each one, I go straight to the video itself to read the comments.

Apple Turtle
(21 min ago)

Have you seen this yet, Andi? We’re dying here waiting for your response!!!

Minny
J
(35 min ago)

Yes! #CrossOutTheNot

JanACE
(1 hour ago)

Eeeeeeeeek! So much romantic, love it!

Apple Turtle
(19 min ago)

I know! So romantic! *Sighs*

Mandy Lovet
(48 min ago)

Cutest thing I’ve seen on YouTube in ages :)

LollyMBooks
(1 hour ago)

OMG Noah! Heart you!

NL Winters
(3 hours ago)

I’m totally tweeting this! #CrossOutTheNot

Minny
J
(3 hours ago)

We’ve been dying for you to cross out the ‘not’ for weeks ;-)

There are many more comments, but I scroll back up to the video so I can see what they’re all talking about. I switch my phone off silent and hit the play button. The video begins with me showing off the book Noah and I are about to talk about. Nothing weird so far. Noah blabbers on about the terrific fight scenes, I let everyone know how boring I thought they were, and still there’s nothing strange going on.

“So to summarise,” video-me says, “we have finally found a book that Noah thinks is awesome and I don’t really like that much.”

“Probably because there’s barely any romance in it,” Noah says. He leans back on his hands, but then he lifts one hand up behind my head, and in it is an A4 piece of card with writing on it:
Andi
agreed to upload this video without watching it first.

A shiver races from the top of my spine down along my arms. What is this? And how did he know I would agree to that?

“Well, exactly,” video-me says. “What is a hero meant to fight for if not love?”

Noah’s hand rises behind my head again with a card that reads
She has no idea these signs are going up behind her head.
“Uh, the fate of his kingdom?”

“Yes, I know, I know. The dragons were going to kill them all, and he wanted to keep his darling princess safe, so he left her back at the castle, and that’s pretty much the last we saw of her.”

Andi, I’m falling in love with you.

At the sight of the third sign, my shaking thumb hits pause.

I’m falling in love with you.

I’m falling in love with you.

Yes, I definitely read that correctly. I press a hand over my mouth and touch the play symbol again.

“But instead we could have had a princess with a little more guts,” video-me continues.

I’ve spent the past few years unable to forget the demons of my past.

“She could have escaped the castle and gone into dragon territory on her own.”

But you’ve reminded me what it is to be happy.

“And let’s say some of those dragons were good and didn’t actually want to attack the kingdom.”

On the surface we look like we could never suit each other.

“She could have befriended one of them and gone back with it to her kingdom to share secrets that could help her people win. She could have been a
dragon rider
!”

But I know the real you, and the real you is perfect for the real me.

“And then, at the turning point of the battle, she could almost die—or the hero could almost die—and then there would be that heartbreaking moment when the dragon sacrifices himself for his rider, and the prince and princess get to live happily ever after in a kingdom no longer under threat.”

I want to be with you. Please say yes so we can cross out the ‘not.’

“Cross out the ‘not,’” I murmur, dropping the phone on my bed as it finally makes sense. I grab the
He is not my boyfriend
T-shirt from the back of my chair, reach for my permanent marker, and draw a line firmly through the ‘not.’ Pyjama top off, find bra, pull on T-shirt, zip up jacket. Lastly, I replace my slippers with gumboots and grab my keys as I run out the room.

I splash my way across the parking lot, earning myself a number of odd looks from other students.
What?
I want to say to them.
Don’t you ever wear your pyjama pants on campus?
Two guys are leaving Smuts as I get there, which means I run right through. Along the corridor, up the stairs, up some more stairs—Noah chose to live on the top floor of his flat—and finally I’m in front of the right door. My boot makes a weird noise when I walk, and I look down and find a piece of paper stuck beneath it. I bend down and, removing it, find that it’s a flyer for the Smuts formal. I fold it up, put it in my pocket, and knock on Noah’s door.

Please be here, please be here, please be—

The door opens. “Andi.” Noah’s face lights up. “I thought … I thought you said you needed some time. I didn’t think I’d see you until after—”

“I got your message,” I say breathlessly.

“My message?”

I unzip my jacket and let it slide off. He looks startled for a second—probably due to me undressing myself in his doorway—but a smile grows slowly on his face as he reads my T-shirt. He pulls me inside the room and shuts the door.

“I’m sorry I said I didn’t know how to trust you last night,” I say.

“Andi, you—”

“I realised that I do. And if I could go back, I’d say something completely different. I’d say that I love you no matter what mistakes you’ve made. And I don’t need any time. I love you now, and I want to be with you now, and I—”

He takes my face in both his hands and kisses me. I stand on tiptoe and wind my arms around his neck, kissing him back with all the longing that’s been building inside me over the past weeks. His hands slide around my thighs, and he lifts me easily. I wrap my legs around his waist, but with my gumboots on, I end up kicking him.

“Oh, crap, sorry,” I say through my laughter. “Stupid boots.”

He swings me around and drops me onto the bed, then pulls each boot off. “Not a problem anymore,” he says with a grin. He crawls onto the bed until he’s half next to me and half over me. I slip my hands around his neck and pull him closer. His lips—as soft as I imagined them—meet mine. Warmth swells in my chest and my pulse quickens. His hand slides over my bare arm, my waist, my hip, down the side of my leg. When he reaches the crook of my knee, he pulls my leg up and over his. I arch against him, tasting his tongue and feeling his breath and wanting more, more, more.

His phone rings. “No,” he mumbles against my lips. “That’s my lift.”

“Don’t go,” I whisper. I run my hands over his short hair, something I’ve been longing to do for ages.

“I wish I didn't have to.”

I open my eyes and find his—beautiful gold-brown bleeding into grey-green—right there. I wonder if my gaze is burning with the fire I feel inside. I feel shy all of a sudden with him so close, as if he can see right into my soul. I almost look away, but I manage to hold his gaze. I trace my finger gently over the scar above his left eyebrow. “Was this from the car accident?”