After (The After Series)

parties with Steph, so there’s no way my mother will know if I am friendly with
her or not.
Finally, she stands up and claps her hands together. “Since we are already
here, let’s go get some breakfast and maybe do some shopping.”
I nod in agreement, and Noah smiles from where he’s leaning on my door. It
does sound like a good idea and I am starving. My thoughts are still a little
stifled by alcohol and tiredness, but my walk home, the coffee, and my mother’s
lecture have sobered me. I head for the door, but stop when my mother coughs.
“You’ll need to clean up a little and change, of course.” She smiles her
condescending smile. I go get some clean clothes out of my dresser and change
in the closet. I touch up last night’s makeup and am ready to go. Noah opens the
door for us, and we all three look at where Hardin is sitting on the floor, leaning
against the door across the hall. When he looks up, Noah grasps my hand,
tightly, protectively.
Still, I find myself wanting to pull my hand away from him. What is wrong
with me?
“We are going to go into town,” I tell Hardin.
In response, Hardin nods several times, like he’s answered some question
deep within himself. And for the first time he looks vulnerable, and maybe a
little hurt.
He humiliated you, my subconscious reminds me. Which is true, but I can’t

---

help feeling guilty as Noah pulls me along past Hardin and my mother gives
Hardin a victory smile, causing him to look away.
“I really don’t like that guy,” Noah says, and I nod.
“Me, either,” I whisper.
But I know I’m lying.

---

chapter twenty-one
B
reakfast with Noah and my mother is agonizingly slow. My mother continues
to bring up my “wild night” and finds every opportunity to ask me if I am tired
or hungover. Granted, last night was very out of character for me, but I don’t
really need to hear about it over and over. Has she always been this way? I know
she just wants the best for me, but she seems to be worse now that I’m in
college; or maybe being away from her for a week has given me a newfound
outlook on her.
“Where should we shop?” Noah asks between mouthfuls of pancake, and I
shrug. I wish he had just come alone. I would love to spend time with him. I do
need to have a talk with him about not telling my mother every detail of my life,
especially the bad, and if we were just alone that would be easier, too.
“Maybe we should go to the mall around the block. I’m not really familiar
with the area yet,” I tell them, cutting the last few bites of my French toast into
pieces.
“Have you thought about where you want to work yet?” Noah asks.
“I’m not sure yet. A bookstore maybe? I wish I could find an internship or
something related to publishing or writing,” I tell them, which elicits from my
mother an award-winning proud smile.
“That would be great, somewhere you could work until you finish college and
that could then hire you full-time,” she says, smiling again.
I try to hide my sarcasm with “Yeah, that would be ideal,” but Noah catches it
and grabs my hand to give it a little conspiratorial squeeze under the table.

---

As I put my fork into my mouth, the metal reminds me of Hardin’s lip ring.
And I pause for a moment. Noah catches this, too, and looks at me with
questioning eyes.
I need to stop thinking about Hardin. Now. I smile at Noah and pull his hand
up to kiss it.
After breakfast my mother drives us to the Benton Mall, which is huge and
crowded. “I am going to go into Nordstrom’s, so I’ll call you when I am ready,”
she tells us, to my relief. Noah takes my hand again and we browse through a
bunch of stores. He tells me about his soccer game on Friday, and how he shot
the winning goal. I listen intently and tell him how great it all sounds.
“You look nice today,” I tell him and he smiles. His perfect white smile is
adorable. He is wearing a maroon cardigan, khakis, and dress shoes. Yes, he
really does wear loafers, but they are cute and somehow fit his personality.
“You do, too, Tessa,” he says and I cringe. I know I look like hell, but he is
too unfalteringly kind to tell me so. Unlike Hardin, who would tell me in a
heartbeat. Ugh, Hardin. Desperately wanting to get my mind off Mr. Rude, I pull
Noah into me by the neck of his cardigan. When I go to kiss him, he smiles but
pulls away.
“What are you doing, Tessa? Everyone’s staring at us.” He gestures toward a
group of adults trying on sunglasses at a kiosk.
I shrug playfully. “No, they aren’t. And so what?” I really don’t care; usually I
would, but I need him to kiss me. “Just kiss me, please,” I practically beg.
He must see the desperation in my eyes because he tilts my chin up and kisses
me. It’s gentle and slow, no urgency behind it. His tongue barely touches mine
but it’s nice. Familiar and warm. I wait for a fire to ignite within me, but it
doesn’t.
I can’t compare Noah to Hardin. Noah is my boyfriend, whom I love, and
Hardin is a jerk who has a roster of girls he hooks up with.
“What’s gotten into you?” Noah teases as I try to pull his body against mine.
I flush and shake my head. “Nothing, I just missed you, that’s all,” I tell him.