“And Heidi and Ariel. They’re all the same.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. They all seemed so unique to me. Especially Cricket and Kim. They had been my closest friends for years and years. “We should probably change the subject,” I said.
“Okay.” We didn’t speak. The roar of the boat made it nearly impossible to have a conversation anyway.
As I got out of the boat, I took off Gideon’s hoodie and gave it back to him. “Thanks for letting me borrow this.”
“Keep it.”
“What? No, I can’t.”
“Just for now,” Gideon said. “I don’t need it for the drive home.”
“But I have sweatshirts in the house,” I said. “I don’t need it either.”
Gideon jumped into the boat and started the engine. “Keep it,” he repeated, over the noise. “This way, I have to come get it back from you.”
Noel and I did go get ice cream that night. It was okay. It just seemed like he was—not a pod-robot, but maybe a recent lobotomy patient. Like part of his brain had been cut out by surgeons in an experimental procedure that left him with only a section of his former personality intact.1
Either that, or he didn’t like me that much anymore.
I tried to ask him about it, but the conversation just went like this.
So I shut up and ate my ice cream. Then later, Noel stopped his mom’s car in front of my dock, and he seemed so cold. Like he was just expecting me to hop out, without a kiss goodnight or anything. This huge awkwardness loomed between us, and I freaked out a little and couldn’t help but break one of Meghan’s rules for what to talk about when you’re alone in the dark with your boyfriend.
I was about to get out of the car when he leaned in and put his hand on my boob. He didn’t even kiss me first. It was like the least romantic boob fondle in the history of all boob fondling. I might even go so far as to call it a grope.
Actually, if he hadn’t been my boyfriend I would have slapped his hand away and called him a Neanderthal. As it was, I let him grope it. Then we kissed goodnight for a while, but all the time I was thinking: Excuse me, but that’s
While we were kissing, I could tell Noel was really getting into it—you know, in the nether regions—and I was wondering how a guy could want to make out with me so much—he was all over me, really—and still not
Why do you say nothing’s wrong when there’s obviously something wrong?
And if you don’t like me that much anymore, why do you like grabbing my boob?
In fact, I think you like grabbing my boob more now than you did before you left.
And oh, actually, that feels amazing.
And oh, I think I love you.
I do love you, Noel.
At least, I love the you who
But now, that you is somewhere else.
Like maybe New York City.
Or maybe just closed off to me.
And was it something I did?
Or something I said?
And oh, that neck-kissing thing is—
No one ever did exactly that before.
I do love you.
But hello, I don’t really feel like kissing when everything’s so weird with us.
And I don’t know if you get to touch my boobs and kiss my neck that way when you wait so long to call me back and you never seem to hear what I am trying to tell you.
It was really quite a complicated situation to be in, and not anywhere near as fun as getting horizontal had been, back when everything was cheerful and simple between us. Eventually when his hand roamed up my dress toward my butt, I pulled away and said, “Something’s wrong with
