Chapter - 1 | Meeting Noah Parker

If one thing I was sure about Noah, it was that he liked me. Not just as a friend, but he wanted more.

He never tried to hide his attraction towards me and it was obvious. They say 'an action speaks louder than words.' He was always caring and kind. Noah always watched for me, walked me to my next class, sat with me for lunch and gave the stink eye to anyone who dared look at me with a wrong notion. He blushed every time I complimented him on something and vice versa.

I clearly remembered the day we met three years ago.

"Sophia, honey, watch your steps," my mom's kind warning reached my ears a little too late as I felt myself slip and falling backward on the pavement.

My hands reached down on instinct as I tried to prepare myself to cushion the fall.

I am well known for my clumsiness and no one can beat my record in my town. I tripped almost over everything, even on the straight road and got injured at least once in a day. My accidents ranged from a small cut received from a kitchen knife to spraining my ankles at least once in a month.

Anyway, as I was expecting my ass to kiss the snow-clad pavement any moment now–

I felt a strong pair of hands, taking hold of my waist. Instead of landing hard on the ground, I sat on what felt like a shoe.

Not fancy, right?

Well, at least I didn't get hurt this time. Do you know it takes at least a week to walk and sit properly if you hurt your back? Tailbone injuries are the worst and don't even get me there. I fell on the stairs once and it took two weeks before I could sit and move, without wincing every time I did something.

Whoever saved me from my fall was pulling me up and I turned to look back at him. It was not a man like I thought–it was a boy of my age.

Gray eyes with blue streaks in it stared me back and his amusement has changed to some other expression, I've seen only in movies. A smile spread across his handsome face, which was dusted with freckles.

I was staring into his eyes, unable to decide if it's gray or blue when someone cleared their throat behind me.

"Thank you for catching my daughter on time," my mom smiled warmly at the boy.

"Oh, it's nothing," he gave me a shy smile. His eyes met my mom briefly before he turned his attention towards me. "I'm Noah Parker by the way. Our family just moved into this town last week," he said in a boyish voice which cracked a little in the mid-sentence. It was as if his voice was breaking.

"I'm Sophia Valentine," I introduced and gave him a shy smile as I stuffed my freezing hands into my jacket pockets.

We stood there awkwardly looking at each other when my mom broke our staring contest. "Sophia, we should get going. We'll see you around, Noah."

"Sure, happy Thanksgiving," he called and I said wished him the same.

Noah nodded as we turned and went into the store.

We were famished by the time we finished buying the groceries and a huge stuffed turkey. My mom invited our close family members for every Thanksgiving much to my father's dismay. It's not like he was there for the dinner.

I didn't understand what my dad’s issue was with my mom's family coming over. They were not rich and don’t meet the standards of my father, but they were family.

My mom fell in love with my dad while they were in college and when she discovered that she was pregnant with me, they married.

However, that was not the whole story, according to my grandma. She once told me that my dad wouldn't marry mom because she was born in a middle-class family. When they threatened him that would go to the court, he married her.

Mom doesn't know that grandma told me her story. I am the pride and joy of my mother, we did everything together.

We finished our lunch at a nearby restaurant and were walking towards our car when I heard a puppy whine from a nearby dumpster. I looked around and my mom stopped noticing my hesitation.

After a few seconds, I heard it again. It was low and I wouldn't hear it if I was any further. I quickly opened the heavy lid to find three husky pups barely a few weeks old shivering inside.

"Heartless bastards," I spat as I quickly removed them from the bin. Mom, who usually chastise me on my language kept quiet as she watched the tears streaming down my face.

I placed them in my sweater trying to warm their freezing bodies using my body heat. "Oh, my poor babies! Mom, who would do such a cruel thing?" I asked her as she stared.

"We need to take them to a vet. Come on," she said softly and I followed her wordlessly.

The vet tended to the pups and suspected that they wouldn't make it through the night. They must've been there for a longer period than we thought.

We brought them home and I sat with them the entire night, keeping them warm and praying silently for their lives. I refused to drink or eat until I was sure that they would make it.

In the morning, when I woke up from my sleep beside them, I cried hard to notice only one out of the three pups had survived. The two boys didn't make it. I mourned for a week and kept the little pup hidden from my father.

My mom tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't listen. I named the little pup Trixie and took care of her like a mother would do to her baby. When my dad discovered, let's say it was not a pleasant day.

I fought him for the first time in my life that day and he grounded me for a month without mobile or car. I gladly walked to school and Trixie meant the world. Growing up alone with no siblings, Trixie soon became my world.

A bark broke me out from my trance and I realized that we reached home. My dad scrunched his nose and glared at Trixie, while she just brushed past him with her head and tail held high.

The pooch was clever and was never friends with my dad. Well, my dad never tried in the first place and Trixie also returned his hatred to some extent. She wouldn't disturb him, but would growl at him menacingly if he shouted at me or my mom.

After taking a quick shower, I let my hair air dry and skipped to the kitchen where my mom was preparing one of her delicious pancakes and toast. I filled Trixie's bowls with water and some dog food before sitting down with a plate of pancakes.

"Hey, mom…"

"Hey, sweetie, I am just finishing up," she answered as she packed two lunch boxes with a speed only working moms possessed and I stared at her in awe like I did every morning. She sat down beside me and grabbed a toast for herself, biting into as she let out a sigh.

"Mom, you look tired."

"I am. I have some extra work. With a few staff resigned, now we are forced to do all the extra work," she mumbled in between the bites.

"I can work part-time if your boss would recruit me," I suggested hopefully noticing the small bags starting to form under her honey-colored eyes. It will also help me get pocket money.

"Your father wouldn't appreciate that honey," she shook her head, her auburn hair pinned neatly in a perfect bun up-do.

"When he had ever appreciated anything I did?" I shrugged and we both continued to eat in silence.

Though I am not always a fan of my dad's rules or ideas, I mostly obey because he would just blame my mom if I spoke against him. I can't ever allow that. So when he said I would specialize in business, major instead of the journalism in college, I took it without a word.

Mom worked in an audit firm, around five years back. My parents had another argument on that day and my dad once again spoke hurtful words about her family and their status, which made her cry.

I was down with fever and noticed that my mom did only house chores and wallowed in self-pity when she was alone. She had a bachelor's degree in auditing and I encouraged her to find a job.

Not that she had to work for a living. It's just that going to work gave her an opportunity to meet people, talk to people of her age and maybe some confidence to face the world. My daddy dearest did a fine job by crushing mom’s confidence level. That man's venomous words stung like that of a scorpion sting.

Dad doesn't know about Mom's job. She left at nine a.m. and was back home by five p.m. every day. He left around eight a.m. and was always reached home sometime around midnight. We were not sure if he knew–even if he did know–he didn't care.

"You sure you don't want a ride?" Mom asked for an umpteenth time to which I chuckled politely.

"Mom, I am nineteen now. Besides that I like going by bus," I replied.

"Okay then, see you, honey." She kissed me goodbye and I waved at her with a broad grin.

Dressing in my favorite black skinny jeans and a Royal blue blouse, I set out to the bus stop with Trixie in tow. For some unknown reason, I never left her alone at home. Perhaps, I didn't trust my dad with her. Also, she would get bored and will chew on my shoes or bedding sometimes.

We reached Uncle Mac's home soon and Trixie sprinted inside with a happy bark. She liked it here. Uncle Mac owned two Labradors who are girls so my Trixie's virtue was still intact.

I am definitely not ready to throw a few pups into the mess I was already in with my father. Entering the fenced front yard, I was greeted by two familiar barks as two chocolate labs barreled towards me.

A hearty laugh left my lips as I greeted the furry babies and hugged them.

I met Uncle Mac when my father grounded me for the first time. He lived alone in this part of town where I took the bus to school and also agreed to look after Trixie during the day happily when I asked him three years ago.

"Sophia! Come in," Uncle Mac's face crinkled as he greeted me with a hug.

He smelled like an old man and coffee. Though I called him Uncle Mac, he was well over sixty and was a former military. He lost his wife ten years ago to cancer and lived alone with his dogs.

"Hey, Uncle Mac... How's your morning?"

"Fantastic so far," he said, patting my back like he always did.

"Here, I brought some pancakes and toast for you," I said, handing him the extra breakfast my mom made for him.

He couldn't cook always, usually, he just made coffee to go in the morning. My mom made him breakfast and sometimes lunch.

"Do you have everything you need here?" I asked as I checked his refrigerator, which was almost empty except for some fruits and milk.

"I need to go grocery shopping to restock my fridge and I realized that I ran out of bread today morning," he replied taking a bite of the pancake.

"You're always forgetful. I forgot to check your fridge yesterday. I'll ask Sharon to bring your lunch today, we'll go shopping after my class," I say quickly and checked my watch.

I was always an early riser, so I still had ten minutes for my bus.

"Sure, you still have that pepper spray I gave you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Okay, be on your way, then," he waved before going back to his food.

Typical Uncle Mac, with an eye roll I went to grab his medicines and placed it in front of him.

"Don't forget to take these after food. See you in the evening," I said, kissing his cheek and he grinned in response.

On the way, I stopped briefly at Sharon's diner to order lunch for Uncle Mac before I got on the bus on time. An involuntary grin found its way to my lips and lit my insides at the sight of my best friend, Noah Parker.