The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (Mara Dyer #1)(61)

I arched an eyebrow.

“The picture?”

“Oh,” I said. “Sure.”

“Thank you,” he said, a smile flirting with his mouth. “Would it be greedy to ask for one of you?”

“A self-portrait?” I asked. Noah smiled an answer. “I haven’t done one in forever,” I said.

“So it’s about time, then.”

I contemplated the idea. I’d have to draw myself without a mirror, now that I saw dead people in them these days. I shrugged noncommittally in Noah’s general direction and focused on the drips of rain that fell from the thatched roof of the tiki hut above us.

I heard a low buzzing from Noah’s pocket. He withdrew his phone and arched his eyebrow at it.

“Everything okay?”

“Mmm,” he murmured, still staring at the phone. “It’s your brother.”

“Daniel? What does he want?”

“Joseph, actually,” Noah said, texting something back. “And to offer a stock tip.”

I have the strangest family.

Noah shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Let’s eat in the dining hall,” he said out of nowhere.

“Okay.”

“I haven’t exactly been—wait, what?” He looked bemused.

“If you want to go, we can go.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That was easier than I expected. My body must have addled your good sense.”

I sighed. “Why do you insist on making me hate you?”

“I’m not making you hate me. I’m making you love me.”

Damn him for being right.

“So you’re giving in?” he asked. “Just like that?”

I started walking. “How much worse could it be after everything else today?”

Noah stopped. “Worse?”

“Having everyone stare and wonder what sort of hijinks your vagina’s been up to isn’t as thrilling as one might imagine.”

“I knew it,” Noah said simply. He still had my hand. It felt tiny and warm in his. “I knew this would happen,” he said again.

I pushed my hair back from my forehead. “I can take it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Noah said, his nostrils flaring. “I wanted to show them you were different. That’s why—Christ,” Noah said under his breath. “That’s why everything. Because you are different,” he said to himself. A shadow darkened his face and he was silent as he stared at me. Studied me. I was lost, but didn’t have time to ask what he was talking about before his expression changed. He withdrew his hand from mine. “If you’re getting hell for this—”

Without thinking, I took his hand back. “Then I’ll put on my big-girl panties and deal.” I indicated the cafeteria. “Shall we?”

Noah didn’t speak the rest of the way, and I mulled over what I’d said and what it meant. People would think I was a slut. They likely already did. And even though Noah was different—seemed different—from the person Jamie had warned me about, that didn’t mean our thing wouldn’t be over tomorrow. Was it worth it? Noah’s reputation didn’t seem to ruffle Daniel, and I thought—hoped—that Jamie and I would stay friends anyway. And for now, there was Noah.

I decided that was enough.

We were still holding hands when we arrived at the cafeteria. As he opened the door for me, I finally understood why Noah called it the dining hall. The ceilings were chapel high and arches spanned the length of the space, housing floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The stark white of the walls contrasted with the burnished walnut floors. Nothing could have been further from the image the word “cafeteria” normally conjures.

“Any seating preferences?” Noah asked.

My eyes scanned the bustling room, filled with uniformed Croyden students. “You’re kidding, right?”

Noah led me through the hall by the hand, and eyes turned up and followed us as we passed. He caught the eye of someone he knew in the far back and waved, and the person waved back.

It was Daniel. His eyes were wide with surprise and the table went silent as we wove through the chairs to meet him.

“Oh my God, if it isn’t my baby sister. Here, in this very cafeteria!”

“Shut up.” I sat down beside Noah and took out my lunch, too self-conscious to meet the eyes of the rest of the seniors assembled at the table.

“I see you’ve brought surly Mara out to play. Thanks for that, Noah.”

Noah raised his hands defensively.

Daniel cleared his throat. “So, Mara.” I looked up from my sandwich. “This is everyone,” he continued. “Everyone, this is my sister Mara.”

I mustered up some courage and looked around the table. I recognized Sophie but no one else. Noah slid into a chair across from my brother and I sat next to him, across from Sophie.

“Hey,” I said to her.

“Hey,” she answered, smiling mid-chew. She swallowed and introduced me to the rest of their group. Noah and my brother chatted away, Daniel’s friends were incredibly nice, and after only a few minutes, Sophie had me laughing so hard I almost cried. When I caught my breath, Noah caught my eyes, took my hand under the table, and smiled. I smiled back.

I was happy. I wanted more than anything for it to last.