Collide(52)

He didn’t know how, or why, but he knew he couldn’t get over Noah. It was such a foreign emotion. He hated it. Wanted it gone. Wanted his normal life back. How dare Noah come back into his life and fuck things up so badly.

Wes said something to Noah and he laughed. The grip on his chest tightened. Dizziness made him spin.

Through blurred vision he saw Wes fumble with his glass. Heard Noah ask him, “How many beers you had, man?”

“Don’t know.”

“I’m driving you home.” Noah told him, making the grip turn into a vice, squeezing everything out of him. Noah would go home with Wes. Noah was his.

No he’s not, no he’s not, no he’s not.

“Fine by me,” Wes answered, his voice smooth. Cooper knew that voice. How many times had he used it on women?

“I gotta go.” Coop started to stand but Noah’s grasp on his arm stopped him.

“Coop.”

He ignored the warning in his voice. Fuck that warning. “I have something to do. Let me go, man.”

He realized Julie, Heather and Danny had all left the table. They were dancing and Coop hadn’t even realized they had left. Braden’s eyes burned a hole through him. Noah’s hand set him aflame. And fuck if he still didn’t want to put his fist through Wes’s face.

“Coop,” Noah said, again.

Cooper pulled his arm free. He didn’t give a shit if Braden realized what was going on here.

“Why don’t you and Braden play a couple games of pool or something? I’ll take Wes home, and then come back and we can talk.” Noah’s voice was steady, even as always.

“I’m not drunk. I can drive myself. I don’t need you to come back for me.” But if he came back, it meant he wouldn’t be fucking Wes.

“I know you’re not drunk but I don’t think you need to be taking off either. Not like this.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN



Noah ran through the woods, sweat dripping in his eyes as he went. He ignored it. Ignored everything except his need to find Cooper.

“Coop!” He yelled, his voice echoing out. The look on his face when Pete had accused him of being a sissy, of letting his parents die. Noah had never seen that level of hatred in someone’s eyes before. Especially not Coop’s.

He hadn’t been able to stop his friend’s fist from slamming into Pete’s face. And now couldn’t find him as he’d run off alone.

“Coop! It’s just me. No one’s with me. Where are you?” His feet slammed against the ground, before he suddenly forced them to come to a stop. Cooper sat, his back against a tree, leaves all around him. A lighter in his hand.

Noah’s heart dropped, sunk down into the ground. “Coop?”

“He knew I let them die. He knew I’m a pussy. I shouldn’t have run.”

Slowly, Noah walked over to him. Slowly he lowered to the ground. “You’re the bravest person I know, Coop.” And he was. He had lived.

“I hate myself for what I did. I should have died with them.” Over and over he lit the lighter. Fear skittered down Noah’s spine. This wasn’t like his best friend.

“If you would have died, I wouldn’t have my best friend. I know it’s not the same. But… you help me deal with stuff. You make people laugh. Everyone loves you, Coop. This town wouldn’t be half as fun without you in it."

I wouldn’t love it without my best friend in it.

Cooper lit the lighter again. “I’ve thought about it, ya know. That maybe I was supposed to die with them. That maybe I should go the same way. With my family… But, then I think about all the fun we have, and I don’t have the guts to do it. That just makes me feel guilty because I shouldn’t put how much I like hanging out with my best friend over being with my family.” The flame burst to life again.

“Give me the lighter, Coop.” Noah could hardly speak over the blood rushing through his ears. Thirteen was too young to talk about dying.

When Cooper didn’t move, he said it again. “Give me the lighter.”

Still nothing, so Noah decided to take it. He put his hands on Cooper’s. Coop trembled. Noah almost let go but didn’t. He…liked the feel of Cooper’s hand in his.

Just cuz he’s my best friend.

“Gimme the lighter, Cooper.” Slowly, Noah started unwrapping Cooper’s fingers from the black lighter. Each one went a little easier than the other. Then Cooper’s hand was open, the lighter in Noah’s, but he didn’t move. Didn’t let go. “Don’t talk like that ever again. Your mama wanted you to live. Your dad would have too. I…I need my best friend.”