Worth the Wait

chapter five

MIA

Dinner was amusing, to say the least. Vivian and Thane showed up late and together, which didn't go unnoticed. Vivian was slightly flushed, her skin turning bright red as she continued to sip on her cocktail, wearing an oversized jean jacket over a bright red bandeau and high-waisted leggings.

Thane, on the other hand, looked rather put together. His light brown hair was slicked back. His crisp white shirt was wrinkle-free as he rested his arm over the back of Vivian's chair the entire night as they took their seats opposite Noah and me. It was clear that if Noah hadn't shown up, not only would I have endured an extra 40 minutes of awkwardness, but I would have also been the third wheel.

I don't know when their relationship took a turn towards intimacy, but I'm not sure how I feel about it. Obviously, I'm happy for them, but I worry about what that would mean regarding work. There was already a lot of tension between the two when they worked together, and Thane always managed to find the time to sit in on Vivian's classes which I helped with occasionally but now, I imagine it will worsen.

But dinner was amusing, not because of the two lovebirds but because of Noah. I didn't expect him to keep me company and provide me with an alternative to the discomfort of having to endure dinner alone. Often telling jokes, he made sure I hadn't had a moment to feel loneliness.

He continues the chivalry by offering to walk me home. Considering I had a few to drink and my three-story brownstone apartment was only a few blocks away, I decided to save on cab fare, but Noah was determined not to let me walk alone.

The night sky is polluted with thick clouds, masking the bright stars across the dark sky. The streetlights provide us with the only light source as we walk along the pavement toward my apartment. My thick heels click as a soft breeze whistles by us.

"I'm fine," I repeat. I huddle my winter coat closer together, preserving my body heat as much as I can. The hat Noah adorned before dinner still rests firmly on his head, though often, he did remove it to thread his fingers through the strands before placing it back.

His large hands are stuffed into the pockets of his jacket as he walks alongside me, seldomly kicking a rock.

He lets out a heavy sigh, "And I've said, I'm not letting you walk alone. I don't care that your place is only 5 minutes away. I would offer to drive, but I walked here, and because of that, I had a few to drink."

I offer a small smile, followed by a chuckle. Silence ensues as my mind somehow finds its way drifting toward my last conversation with Devi. She called me yesterday, thanking me for somehow convincing her parents to let her take up a part-time job. It wasn't hard; once I started to list its benefits, they were all ears.

But now that that conversation is out of the way, I'm worried she's going to return to the topic of her dropping out. That is a conversation I don't want to touch with a ten-foot pole. With only five months left until her high school graduation, I'm concerned this is going to pop up a couple of times.

First off, I don't know even know what I would say. Just because they listened to me about the job doesn't mean they will with this. As much as I wish Devi would have that conversation with her parents herself, I would be a hypocrite to suggest it. I can't even tell my parents what I want; how am I expected to relay the message to hers?

As if knowing that I was thinking about her, my phone dings with an incoming text. Lo and behold, it's from her asking if I'm open to potentially talking to her parents again. I think it's almost more effortless rejecting an idea over text because it's easier to type out "Umm no" than it would have been to say to her face.