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“Don’t stay in. It’s New Year’s Eve. Go out. Where’s that guy you were dating?” I never paid much attention to her dating life, and I immediately felt bad when her face fell.
“Well, that didn’t really work out. I forgot that men my age aren’t too keen on a woman with a teenager at home. Idiots, the lot of them. Except you, of course. What about you? Are you excited for tonight? You and Noa seem to be getting cozy.”
I nodded as my finger hovered over my screen.
I trust you.
“I want to ask her to be my girlfriend. Do we…do that?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure guys my age don’t. But I think Noa would appreciate it if I did.”
Tracey placed her palm on my cheek. “Being old-fashioned is a rarity. She’s a lucky girl.”
I couldn’t help my grimace. “But Noa isn’t like that. She’s so independent she pushes me away when I open doors for her. I want her to know that she’s, you know,withme. But I don’t want her to laugh at me.”
Tracey moved her hand to her lap and pursed her lips. “I think that’s just her defense mechanism. She’s afraid to let you do those things for her so she doesn’t rely on them. Or you.”
“I feel like she’s waiting for me to mess up. It’s kind of frustrating.” I got up and walked to my dresser, pulling clothes out for the night. “What can I do to change that?”
She shrugged. “You can stay. I know you have feelings for each other but some things only time can give you, like trust. She may trust you with some things, but you still have to earn her trust with others.”
Leave it to Tracey to take my theory and shove it straight in the garbage.
“Hey,” she said, causing me to look at her again. “All you have is time, Dex. Enjoy the journey. I remember, not too long ago, thinking that small things were so life-altering. They weren’t. I was young, and I didn’t have a grip on how much time I would have to get over stupid shit.”
I put my clothes down and just stared at her. “You’re the only person I know who takes me seriously. Why?”
“I think I’m old enough to know what it looks like when it’s real. Your parents had it. And after twenty-seven years, I certainly know what it looks like when it isn’t.” She walked to the door, opened it, and looked back at me momentarily. “Wear the sweater I got you for Christmas,” she said before walking out.
I pulled it out of my closet and set it on top of my pants. I reached for my phone, swiping my screen and typing out a message to Noa.
Me:I’ll pick you up at eight.
I would show her a good time, and the constant worry that lived inside her would ease. I could only hope it would ease mine as well.
* * *
At eight sharpI was outside Noa’s building. I sent her a text letting her know I was downstairs. No response. By the time quarter after came, I felt a sensation at the back of my neck—worry.
So, I turned my car off and headed up the steps of her porch. The front door was unlocked, and I entered, heading to the floor I knew she lived on. I could hear babies crying in other apartments and there was distant shouting. I tried not to notice the stale scent of old food as I walked up the last set of stairs.
I knocked on the door to apartment number six. Heavy steps made their way to the door, and when it opened, I was facing a tall, lanky guy with tired eyes. His brown curly hair flopped carelessly in his face. His boots were dirty, and his flannel hung open, revealing a sweaty undershirt.
“Who are you?” he asked. “I don’t really want to hear about Jesus, so if you’re one of those Jehovah’s witnesses, I’ll let you know now that I enjoy sinning immensely and I’m pretty much guaranteed a toasty seat in hell.”
I couldn’t help my chuckle. “Uh, no. Actually, I’m here for Noa.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he looked me up and down. “So, you’re him, eh? Looks like she knows how to pick ’em.”
I heard Noa from somewhere in the apartment, yelling out something in rapid-fire Spanish. At least, I thought it was Spanish.
Tim responded just as quickly and rolled his eyes, stepping aside so I could enter.
I headed toward the sound of her voice. When I walked into her room, my eyes went to her instantly.
She was wearing a dress that looked kind of fancy; the type of dress that showed off her figure. It made my tongue feel heavy and my eyes feel strained. After blinking a few times, I realized she was speaking.
“I’m annoyed that you’re up here,” she said as she gathered a few things and placed them in a small purse. “My phone was dead. Didn’t realize it until you were already at the door. And I was running late because Tim insisted that I cook him dinner.”
“Is it too much to expect dinner on the table?” He was leaning against the door with a beer in his hand. “What’s your name?”
