Page 67 of Pages of Amber
Evelyn and Lexi stayed beside the teacher as the rest of the class quickly resumed running. Beverly hesitated, her gaze on Noah’s back as he carried Amber. A pinched expression sat on Beverly’s face before she turned back to her run. Amber glanced away, wondering if she imagined the worry on Beverly’s face. There was a possibility she had a head wound from that fall. She looked up, her eyes meeting familiar, almost identical blue ones this time.
Lexi tilted her head when Amber met her eyes. A sly grin painted on her face. Her hand raised, hidden from Evelyn and Coach who had their backs to her and she blew Amber a kiss.
Amber released her grip on Noah’s gym shirt when he sat her on the infirmary bedspread. The two nurses on duty shot to their feet, hurrying over to them. Amber was sure she made a sight. Her hair was a mess and she could feel dirt on her cheeks. Her gym wear was stained and even under her nails were caked with sand.
One of the nurses pulled a chart and began to write things down as the other nurse examined her, asking where she was hurt and how much pain she felt in a particular area. Noah gave them a short recap of the incident and Coach’s instruction to check her head.
When the nurse checking her over reached for her ankle, Amber let out a sharp gasp. The older woman shot her a sympathetic look and tried again with softer hands. It didn’t matter. Amber’s ankle throbbed, the pain reaching her head and leaving her with a pounding headache. Above her folded sock, she could see her ankle was purplish red and swollen.
The nurses exchanged a meaningful look, one Amber didn’t like at all. The one who had tried to touch her ankle sent her a sympathetic smile. “Give us a minute, dear. Hannah will get you some ice for the swelling and I’ll call in the doctor. He won’t take long. Your student records are all up to date, yes? We’ll take care of calling your parents.”
Her head shot up so fast her vision dimmed for a second. Her words were slow and jumbled as she called out to them. “W-wait. What? No, you don’t have to–”
They walked out of the room like they hadn’t heard her. Amber groaned, her hand running through her hair. The braid she had pulled it into before class was disheveled and dirty. Another thing to add to her misery.
“I’ll tell them not to call her,” Noah said. He leaned against the second bed in the room, separated a few feet from hers by a half drawn curtain. “If you want,” he finished.
Amber held his gaze for a second, then she looked away. “No need. She’ll find out anyway. She always does.”
The last part was whispered, but he heard it. His fingers drummed against the bedrail beside his thigh. He looked deep in contemplation and Amber almost wished he didn’t ask but the universe wasn’t exactly answering her these days.
“I was trying to talk to you this morning. I didn’t mean to annoy you by asking how you were–”
“So why did you?”
He looked at her, his brows furrowed. Those dark eyes settled heavily on her. “I care about you, Amber. Of course I was worried.”
She refused to let his words slink warmth into her heart. “Why do you care? We aren’t friends, Noah. We’ve never been friends. In fact, I’m pretty sure we hated each other for years and constantly took out our frustrations on one another. That was it.”
“Don’t do that.” His voice was sharp. “Don’t try to deny that we connected, that we had something, because you’re angry.”
She looked away, her jaw tight. He had seen her at the greenhouse, he had accepted the bare parts of her soul under the stars and he could read her lies as she told them.
His voice softened when she blinked to hold back the tears. He shifted on the bed, a crinkly sound leaving the mackintosh. “You can talk to me,” he said. “You were there for me when I needed it. I want to be there for you too.”
A shallow laugh left her. “You want to pay me back for being your shrink by being mine?”
Noah’s eyes flew to hers, the surprise in them mixed with hurt. “That isn’t… that’s not what this is. That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” she croaked. Another laugh escaped. “You’re so eager to do something for me but for weeks, it’s been me helping you build the perfect little presidential reputation that has everyone falling at your feet now. How does it feel to have used me to do your bidding?”
“You’re not making any sense. We made that deal together.”
“I’m making perfect sense, but you’re not listening. No one listens. They don’t want to listen. All they want is perfection, all the time. I’m tired of hearing that word.”
“No one is asking you to be perfect,” his voice was soft again.
“How would you know?” her voice rose then cracked off at the end. Her eyes stung, her tears on the brim. “You’ve never had to be perfect for anyone, Noah. You’re not the only child. You’re not the first born. No one’s ever needed you to be perfect. No one’s ever needed you. You could do whatever you want and your parents wouldn’t even care. They aren’t the ones controlling everything in your life. You’re just too much of a coward to do it for yourself.”
His breath stilled and those eyes darkened. That wasn’t true. She knew that wasn’t true but she had said it and hurt him anyway. She had hurt Noah. The first tear dribbled down her cheek.
“This isn’t about me,” he started slowly. “This is about you accusing Beverly. I want to understand what happened. She’s your friend, Amber.”
A scoff left her, loud and sharp. This was Noah drawing the line, wasn’t it? This was him choosing someone else over her. The same way everyone else in her life had done.
“I have no friends. None of you are my friends. You all want something from me. Everyone wants something and you’re always taking and taking. Why do you keep taking when I have nothing to give? When will it ever be enough?”
She wasn’t sure if she was still talking about Beverly. Her hands shook in her lap. She looked down at the tear droplets that laid there. She didn’t remember them falling.
