Birthday Flowers | The Kissing Booth

5. Wherein We Finally Hear From Noah

(Moving to Noah's POV for this chapter)

I'm starting to think this was a mistake, that I'm an unwelcome intruder on a private ritual. I know Elle has spotted me, but she's carefully avoiding looking in my direction again. I'm still not entirely sure why I'm here. I'd known her mom's birthday was coming up, and then Lee oh so casually mentioned Mr. Evans and Brad would be out of town. (I'd laugh at the irony that Elle so often thought I was the Flynn trying to meddle in her life, but it's a sore subject.) The idea of Elle alone on this day bothered me. And I missed her. This was hardly new, but after two years of hoping that anger at Elle would overtake missing of Elle, I was realizing the reverse had happened.

I definitely started out angry. Angry at Elle for shutting me out, for interpreting my desire to help as lack of faith in her, for laughing at the idea that we had a long-term future worth putting college on hold for. Angry at both of us for escalating. Angry at Lee for not finding a way to talk sense into either of us. Then, later, angry at Lee for mentioning Elle too much. Or too little. Angry at Lee for telling me I'd have to call Elle myself if I wanted updates, and angry at myself for not calling. Angry at Elle for not calling.

And then I guess I got tired of being angry. I figured Elle would call when Elle wanted to call. I focused on my senior year. I hung out with my teammates, I passed my classes, I went to parties, I met up with Lee and did not ask a single question about Elle. I interviewed for a lot of jobs and took the most unlikely one. I graduated. I stayed the fewest possible days in LA before heading up to San Francisco. I spent the summer overhauling a vintage bike and getting ready to teach. And then, once the school year started, my days disappeared in a crush of early morning team workouts, teaching, afternoon practices, and then preparing to do it all over again the next day. All of a sudden it was June and I'd managed to survive a year of teaching and almost two without Elle.

I went to visit Lee, who had another year to go in his five-year program. This time I did ask about Elle, and Lee told me her number hadn't changed and that he wasn't in the middle of this. I went to visit my parents and went on three runs around the neighborhood "to stretch my legs" before mom broke it to me the Evanses were out of town. But after that she found every excuse to drop updates about Elle into conversations. The second anniversary of the accident was the closest I came to actually hitting send on a message to Elle. And then late October rolled around, Lee dropped his passive-aggressive comment about Elle being on her own this weekend, and I bought a plane ticket home. So here I am on this bench, reading a book whose pages I haven't turned since Elle appeared. Just as I'm giving myself five more minutes before giving in and making the first move, I hear footsteps.

Elle drops onto the bench beside me. Her hair is longer than I last saw it, but otherwise she's just the same and it seems impossible that two years have passed.

"Thanks," she says after a long pause. She's fiddling with her bracelet rather than looking at me.

"For the flowers?"

"For remembering. For coming out here."

I always remember this date, I want to reply. I have a whole Shelly calendar memorized. I just didn't think I was welcome the past two years. I'm not sure how welcome I am this year, either, so I stay silent.

"But thanks for the flowers, too. She would have loved them. She got me some just like those once, for middle school graduation."

"I know."

When Elle and I were dating and new friends would ask how we met, she'd always start the story with Lee and their epic friendship and wind up with "And then I realized his big brother was super hot." It gets a good laugh, but sometimes I wish she'd mention that we've known each other forever too.

"Not a coincidence, then?" Elle finally looks at me.

"Nope."

And then Elle shocks me by curling up on the bench with her head on my lap. It's not unwelcome, just unexpected.

"Can we just sit here a while? You can keep reading that book if you want. I just- want to sit here."

Sure, Elle, I'll just read my book and wait for you to tell me what we're doing. I realize as soon as the thought is complete how unfair it is. I'm the one who ambushed her today. So all I say out loud is "Sure."

But I don't pick up my book again. I sit and enjoy the moment, the warm weight of Elle curled against me. I am trying to remember what I'd planned to say if Elle showed up. I didn't have much of a plan. Find Elle, see how she reacts. See how you react. Take it from there. I am tempted to reach for Elle's hand, but I make myself keep my arms stretched across the back of the bench. I'm not sure how long we sit in this oddly companionable silence.

"So, teaching high school. What's that about?" Apparently Elle is ready to talk.

"I crushed high school. I was legendary. I owe it to the next generation to pass on my wisdom."

"Public service. Laudable."

"And, you know, putting off the real world. Dad wanted me to go work for one of his buddies. My profs wanted me to apply to grad school. I wasn't feeling a rush to decide." Waiting to see what you'd do, I add silently.

"I'm trying to picture you as a teacher. It's not working. AP Motorcycle Maintenance?"

"Math, actually. And I coach."

"Still not seeing it. Had they met you before hiring you to mold young minds? Did they know about the punching and brooding?" She says it with a grin, but it still stings. "Hey, I'm sorry. I was just being silly. I'm not actually surprised. I bet they love you." Elle sits up and gives me a conciliatory smile. We sit in silence another minute.

"I heard you were back in school. Still chemistry?"

"Yeah. My advisor at BU helped me get into a lab here. And dad made me live on campus this year, said I needed to go back to being a normal college student."

"And how is that, being a normal college student again?"

"Weird. Fun. But not as fun as Boston was." Elle smiles wistfully. She's leaning back against the bench now, and I am acutely aware of the brush of her hair against my arm.

"Boston wasn't as fun as Boston was, once you were gone." I want to say more, then think better of it. I think this was the point I'd never managed to articulate back then. That staying in LA with Elle wouldn't have been a sacrifice compared to being in Boston without her. That it was a selfish impulse, not a noble one. That I never doubted Elle's ability to take care of her family herself. But it's been two years and this debate is moot.

"How long are you in LA for?" Elle has returned to a safer topic.

"The kids have Monday off. So until then, I guess."

"Your parents must be glad to see you."

"They're out of town. They don't know I'm here."

"So you're just here to escape the fog and enjoy some sunshine?"

"I'm here to see you." I had considered and rejected several answers. I went with direct. "Figured you could use some company."

Elle fusses with her bracelet again for a long minute before giving me a shy smile. "Well, maybe we can accomplish both of those. Enjoy the sunshine and the company. I'd been planning to go down to the pier, if you want to join me?"

Oh, yes, absolutely, Santa Monica pier, site of half our happiest high school memories. Definitely the best and least awkward location for... whatever this is we're doing right now. "As long as you understand the no-DDR rule stands."

"Still intimidated by my superior talents, got it."

It's not Elle's dance skills that have me nervous, but I let her lead the way back to the parking lot.

A/N: Aaaaand now we're caught up to present day and the real fun begins. I 💜 comments. And votes. Votes make me write faster ;)