Jawbreaker

“Have you been smoking?”

I pulled away from Justin, realizing that the lingering musk of tobacco was, indeed, me. “No,” I replied, quickly letting my arms fall from our embrace. I turned back to my locker and started searching for my AP Government book.

Justin wrinkled his nose. “You sure? You smell like an ‘effing ashtray.”

I finally found the book. “I ran into Noah Folds this morning.”

I shut my locker and began walking away, waiting for Justin to follow me. But when I turned back, I saw that he was still standing at my locker, with a shocked expression. After a quick second, he composed himself and quickly walked over to where I was.

“I thought you said it was nothing,” whispered Justin. I shivered. There was nothing menacing in his tone and he didn’t look upset. It was the way he said nothing. There was something haunting about the way he said the word.

“It is,” I told him, pulling at his hand to reassure him. I didn’t know what else to do. I admit, Noah Folds was an interesting character. And I know I could’ve easily told Justin that the only reason why I went up to him this morning was to convince him to be in the Blackbox show. And it would’ve fixed everything. But instead, I said, “I just happened to walk past him in the parking lot while he was smoking.” I didn’t understand why I didn’t try harder to prove that there was nothing going on with Noah, but I knew that if I was ready to feed him excuses, it would be suspicious. But it wasn’t, right?

Justin just sighed and put his around my waist. “Yeah, I know. I’m just giving you a hard time because I wanna see you tonight. You sure you can’t come to Jay’s party?”

“Positive,” was my response, as I clutched my books tighter to my chest.

There was nothing suspicious going on between Noah and me.



I didn’t have an appetite during lunch. I was getting a cold, so I resorted to only drinking tea. Natalia looked over my Styrofoam cup, cocking an eyebrow. I thought how she needed to get her brows done soon.

“I’m sick,” I told her, coughing slightly.

She frowned. “Have you convinced Folds to do the show?”

I scoffed. That was all she cared about. Forget my weak immune system. “No,” I told her, coughing louder for emphasis. Bitch.

She sighed heavily, resting her chin on her palm. “That boy has so much energy, though. I just want to use it for something useful.”

“As opposed to him fucking around backstage?” I quipped.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, sighing again, and then playing with her ravioli. “And besides, he and Billie have chemistry. I don’t want to risk that with anyone else.”

“Who?” asked Bridget, as she arrived at our table, setting her books and purse down. She cocked a perfectly tweezed eyebrow, and for a second I admired how she always had her appearance together. Not a single hair out of place.

Natalia just sighed and said, “Drama club. Don’t worry; it’s none of your interest.”

“Right, you are,” said Bridget before she walked away from the table.

I heard another heavy sigh emitting from Natalia’s lips. I almost wanted to smack her quiet. I didn’t want to deal with Noah. He was prying and irritating. I couldn’t have a normal conversation with the boy. It was like seeing eye to eye with him was an impossible task. Convincing him to do something he had no interest in seemed worse. So why was I the one stuck in this position? Why did it have to be me, instead of Natalia herself? She’s the one directing the show, it’s her problem. Not mine. I shouldn’t even have to bother, all I do is makeup.

With all these thoughts running through my head, I could only tell Natalia one thing.

“I’ll keep trying.”



Noah was in the Blackbox room half an hour before rehearsal.

It gave me a shock, as I had just strolled into the room and found him sitting in one of the chairs, reading a book.

I watched him for a second. He didn’t notice my presence.

“What? Do you just not like going home or something?” I asked, breaking the silence in the room.

He flipped the page with a flick of his thumb and said, “Something like that.” His eyes didn’t even leave the words in his book to acknowledge me. That bothered me for some reason.

I set my bag on a chair, across from him. “So why not just do the show, then? You’re probably just going to keep showing up at rehearsals. Be useful.” It wasn’t the best approach, but I didn’t know how else to coax him into it.

He folded back the book in his hands and I thought of the creases that were forming at the bind of it. It really got on my nerves for some reason.

“That’s my business,” was all he said.

I shrugged, sitting down across from him. “You’d be playing Billie Jean’s love interest.”

I watched his eyes scan the words on the page as he said, “I don’t need to be Prince Charming in order to do that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well you certainly aren’t doing that.”

His eyes stopped moving and I realized he had stopped reading. Had that struck a nerve? Had I caught the jerk’s attention?

“No,” he said, “I am most certainly am not.”

For some reason, that really got on my nerves.

“Then why are you here?” I shouted, flailing my arms out. This kid was infuriating. He was absolutely ridiculous.

He unfolded his book and sealed it shut between his hands. Noah looked up and finally met my gaze for the first time since I had entered the Blackbox.

“It’s like you said.” He wore a smirk now. “I don’t really like going home.”

Had it been a couple of months earlier, I would’ve believed he was just making fun of me. His boyish smirk would have come off as an attempt at a joke, or his way of making things more comfortable.

But it was right now. And I wasn’t comfortable looking at Noah’s smirking face. And I believed what he said, about not liking going home.

Because it was exactly how I had been feeling for the past two months.

“Then you should join the play,” I said.

The smirk fell off. There was a pause till a smile replaced it. A genuine smile. I was even more confused at this sight. Why was he smiling now?

“What makes you think I’d want to play Billie Jean’s love interest?” he asked. He looked curious now.

“What?” I didn’t expect him to ask that. I thought it was obvious that the two of them were together? “I thought you two were together.”

“Why?” he pressed, leaning out of his seat now. He had a fist under his chin.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. Weren’t they, though? They were always together. And the way he was so affectionate towards her, and the way she would just accept his affections as if they weren’t burdensome. Wasn’t that the explanation right there?

Noah leaned back and let his fist fall onto his lap. “We’re not,” he said, watching for my reaction.

“Oh,” was my reply. And then I asked, “Why?”

Noah burst out into a laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’m not answering that. You don’t get to ask me why!”

“Why?” I asked, again.

He closed his mouth, suppressing his laughter. And then he opened it to say, “Because! You wouldn’t answer my why. It’s not fair.”

“Because I thought you were!” I replied. “I just thought you and Billie Jean were dating because you’re always together!”

He threw his head back, laughing heartily. I’m glad that he was so amused.

“Well, we’re not,” he said, wiping his eyes, chuckling now. “She’s my best friend.” There was something weird about the way he said ‘friend’.

And then it dawned on me.

“You’re in love with her.”

He didn’t look me in the eye.

I got mad.

“Then why don’t you just join the fucking play?”