I can’t believe Noah. I want to flip my hair in frustration, but there’s nothing to flip. I cut it. And suddenly, I hate that I did.
What the hell is wrong with him? Why did he act like such a jerk tonight? It’s like he wanted to expose us, to rip off whatever fragile, invisible cover we’ve been hiding under. And I hate that word. Expose.
Like what we’re doing is shameful.
But maybe it is.
No matter how Noah tries to spin it, no matter how many times we tell ourselves Elena would want us to be happy, we both know she didn’t mean this. She didn’t mean us. Even if she did, deep down… we know we’re wrong.
I hear him coming down the stairs. Nope. Not doing this. Not tonight. I slip past him without a word, heading straight for my room. I just want to disappear. Maybe put on a rerun, drink
