I slowly walked out of the kitchen, shooting Marissa pleading looks but she just held the glasses of soda in her hands innocently. She had no clue that her mother would do this. I made my way up the stairs, thinking of ways I could get out of this. I could get sick and go home. I can’t do that to Marissa. I walked to the end of the hallway, raising my fist and knocking on the door. Once, twice…I waited for him to open the door.
I knocked again. I heard a loud thud and a groan of pain; I heard shuffling on the other side of the door. It flew open and Noah stood there, his eyes half lidded and his shirt and sweatpants wrinkled. He was fixing his shirt and I’m assuming he was sleeping, shirtless most likely. I blushed at the thought. I blinked a few times as he stared down at me expectantly.
