Chapter Seven

ISABELLA

I slam back into the seat, still trying to regulate my breathing. My heart is hammering from the mix of humiliation and anger.

I yank the seatbelt across my chest aggressively, partly to keep myself from opening the damn door and barrel-rolling out of this moving car.

Noah glances at me from the corner of his eye. "Good girl."

"I will jump out of this car," I murmur.

He shakes his head. "You won't."

"Watch me." I'm bluffing. I'm definitely bluffing. My mind screams at me. I can't jump out of a moving car. That would be suicide. And as much as I hate my life, I don't have any desire whatsoever to end it so soon, especially not in front of Noah.

"I literally carried you here. If you jump, I'll just pick you up and put you back."

I groan as the city blurs past us... shops, overgrown hedges, the heat waves... Each bump in the road makes me more acutely aware of how dishevelled I must look... eyeliner smeared, hair messy, skirt wrinkled from being tossed around.

I catch Noah staring and I snap. "Don't stare at me."

"You look like a kicked puppy," he replies casually. "It's staring at me first."

Does he never get tired of calling me names? I'm starting to think he has a secret dictionary of insults he pulls from.

"But puppies are cute and they listen." He adds, almost as an afterthought.

I whip my head toward him. "Do you enjoy being insufferable or does it come naturally?"

"Oh, I'm very talented."

I roll my eyes. The silence that stretches for a beat is the good kind. Or at least the neutral kind... considering nothing with Noah is ever actually good. But the silence is enough for my brain to wander back to Hardin.

He's never bailed on me like this before. He's always there whenever I need him. I've never had to go through a day like today without him being by my side, so... what's happening?

Why is today different?

"Your perfect little relationship is already cracking. Didn't take long." Noah cuts into my thoughts, as if he'd been reading my mind.

I turn. "You're insane, you know that." My lips are pressed into a thin line as I glare at Noah. For fuck's sake what is his deal? Why does he always have to be a cynical asshole?

"Thirty missed calls to Hardin? That's... rough." He whistles. "Honestly, I thought you two would last a bit longer. Maybe, what? Another week?"

"Can you not?" My voice is a plea. And it's because I don't want to hear this from him. My relationship with Hardin is what I'd rather not talk about with his brother.

But Noah is on a roll. "Look, it's not your fault. You're clingy, he's soft. Terrible combo."

"Clingy?" My lashes lift and my jaw drops. "I'm not clingy."

He snorts. "I'm just saying. You two are... mismatched. You know, like oil and water."

I open my mouth, then close it again. "Mismatched?" I repeat. "You clearly are out of your mind. What are you on? Some hallucinogen? In case you've forgotten, he's my boyfriend. We're happy. We're fine."

"Yeah, well." He shrugs. "Soft boys don't last long with girls like you."

My mouth falls open. This will be the fourth time it's falling open all because of Noah fucking Hawkins. "Girls like me?" I repeat, when I don't know what else to say.

"Yes. Emotional. Dramatic. Easily overwhelmed."

My hands clench into fists and my nails dig into my palms. "God, you are the worst human being alive."

"No, that's dramatic. But keep trying."

I grip the seatbelt so hard it squeaks. Poor seatbelt. "Why do you always assume you know everything about my relationship?"

"Because it's too damn easy. Hardin's too soft, you're too... bratty. He folds like paper. You need someone who doesn't crumble when you raise your voice."

I scoff. "What? Someone like you?"

He does that thing. The click of his tongue and I swear I see red. "Someone who can handle you, Minnie. And before you say you don't need handling, everyone needs handling. Especially you."

"Hardin and I are fine," I insist. "We talk, we..."

“You tolerate him,” Noah says bluntly. “He worships you. The imbalance is embarrassing to watch, honestly.”

“That is not true.”

“Sure,” he says, unconvinced. “Keep lying to yourself.”

“Why do you even care?”

“I don’t.”

“You clearly do...”

“I just hate watching disasters unfold slowly. Makes me bored.”

I snap my head toward him. “You know what, Noah? Maybe mind your business. Maybe stay out of my relationship. Maybe stop projecting your lonely, miserable, serial-hookup issues onto me... It's pathetic. It's sad actually,"

“Serial hookup?” he says with a raised brow. “You really wanna go there?” He laughs. "You think you can handle that topic?"

I clench my jaw. “No wonder you’re single. You're a walking red flag."

He pauses. Just half a second. “Never said I wasn’t.”

“Oh please,” I scoff, trying to regain my footing. “Who would date you?”

“Plenty of people.”

“You don’t date,” I say. “I know that for a fact. Everybody knows that. I'm sure the desperate girl you had under you last night knew what she was getting herself into. She probably just wanted a good story, or a quick thrill, because you certainly don't offer anything more. You're a one-night stand machine."

“Wow. Getting bold.”

“No, I’m being honest. You don’t let anyone get close. You don’t trust people. You don’t open up. You make fun of everything so nothing ever matters. That’s why you jump from girl to girl. That’s why nothing sticks.”

His smirk fades slightly. His knuckles are bone white on the steering wheel.

But I don’t stop. Because I'm too mad at him to think about stopping. I'm in desperate need to wound him as deeply as he's wounded me.

“You’re angry, guarded and too broken to actually love someone or even let someone care about you.”

Noah goes very, very still. His eyes are fixed on the road ahead, but they seem to be staring through it, into nothing. His entire body is rigid. There's no smirk. No comeback. Nothing. Just silence. Utter scary silence.

I instantly feel sick. Guilty heat crawls up my neck. “Noah… I... I didn’t mean...”

He keeps his eyes on the road, jaw flexing once, twice.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

“Noah,” I try again, softer. “Please. That was too far. I was angry, I... I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Still nothing.

The silence is louder than all our shouting combined.

“Noah… look at me.”

He doesn’t.

My chest tightens.

I’ve never seen him like this.