Present Perfect(8)

Shaking his head he smirked at me. “I was gone for like twenty minutes. I had to go get our bikes. Then my mom stopped me in the kitchen when I was getting this for you.” He had a huge piece of chocolate cake with a fork sticking out of it. He handed it to me. “She wanted to know what I was up to.”

“What did you tell her?” I said with a mouth full of cake and frosting.

“That you were here. Then she wanted to know if you were staying for supper. My dad’s grilling hamburgers.”

“I need to call my mom and let her know that I’m over here and ask if I can stay.” I could feel tears sitting behind my eyes. I was scared Mom would know something was wrong the minute she heard my voice.

“You don’t need to call her. Mom said she would check to make sure it was alright if you stayed.”

I let out another deep sigh. This bought me a little more time for my knee to feel better and for the redness to go away from my hands and face.

I noticed Noah staring at me while I ate the cake. I held the fork out to him. “You want some?”

“Nah, you need it more than I do.”

I pushed it closer in his direction. “Have some,” I insisted.

Grabbing the fork, he took a big bite while I held the plate for him. We passed the fork back and forth until the cake was gone.

After setting the plate down, Noah laid back on the bed, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Feeling better?”

“Yes. Much better,” I told him.

“Good. I figured that would help.”

“What?”

“The chocolate cake.”

“Yeah, why’s that?” I asked with curiosity.

Noah smiled. “Cause chocolate cake takes the hurt away and makes everything better.”





Your world can change in an instant when you see someone through another’s eyes.





We were at the final baseball game of the season. Noah was the star player for the city league, the Tigers. It was his last year playing for them. We were starting our freshmen year in high school in a few months. Noah was a great baseball player, so there was no doubt he’d make the high school team.

The extent of my baseball knowledge was practically nonexistent. I had been coming to these games forever. You would’ve thought I’d have retained some information through osmosis at least. It’s supposed to be America’s favorite past time. I’m an American, and it was never my favorite past time. The only reason I came was to support and cheer for my best friend.

Noah started playing T-ball when he was 4 years old and quickly fell in love with all things baseball. Even though, I never understood the game, there wasn’t a better way to spend a Saturday than watching Noah out there on the field. Baseball made him happy and excited. I loved watching him. It was worth sitting through a game I didn’t understand to see how much joy it brought him.

I decided to invite Beth Sanders, a potential new friend of mine, to the game. Her family had moved in next door to us about three weeks ago. She was still in her friendship trial period. I hadn’t even introduced her to Noah yet. So far, she had done pretty well.

She was exotic looking with her deep tan, long jet black hair, and emerald green eyes. She had really sharp facial features, her nose, cheekbones, and jaw were all well-defined, unlike mine. My face was round and my cheeks were chubby, at least I thought so. Beth was taller and thinner than me, with legs that went on for miles. She was fun to hang out with, a little boy crazy, but certainly not on the road to becoming Queen of Whoreville.

“Wow, I’m going to love living here. This place is crawling with hotties,” Beth said, as we carried our food up the bleachers to our seats “Who is that?!”

I turned towards the field. “Who?”

“The batter, Stewart.”

“That’s my Noah.”

“Your Noah? I thought you just had an older sister and your last name was Kelly.”

“Not brother, best friend,” I said.

“Your best friend?” She scrunched up her face confused. “You can’t have a guy as your best friend.”

“Why not?”

“It’s unnatural. Weird,” she said, her lips pursed into a straight line.

It was hard for me to think that there was something unnatural or weird about my friendship with Noah. Everything with us had always felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Beth continued to ramble on. “…and you especially can’t have a guy who looks like that as your best friend.”

“A guy who looks like that? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how scorching hot he is?”

“I never thought about it.”

She huffed. “I don’t believe you,” she paused for a moment. “Are you a lesbian?”

“No!”

“I’m just asking because a lesbian is the only type of female, who wouldn’t think Noah was hot.”

“I don’t know if you and I are going to be friends,” I deadpanned.

She smiled at me. “Oh, come on. Look at him. His body is insane.”

“I think you’re insane.”

“He’s a perfect triangle. Broad shoulders, thin waist, amazing ass.”