Birthday Flowers | The Kissing Booth

16. Meet the Roommate

Previously: A tall blonde walks in and stops short when she sees us. Really, when she sees me. And then she flashes me a smile that is more feral than friendly.

"The infamous other Flynn brother. About damn time you showed up, Dad."

~~~~

(Elle)

Noah's reaction today has been... calmer than I expected. He's at least not at either of the extremes I'd feared, neither furious and storming out nor leaping to grand declarations I'm not ready for. At moments it has even felt relaxed between us, until I look down and remember what's precipitating this little reunion. But it seems the clock is running out on our hour of putting off the hard conversations, and now here's Mickey to make things even more interesting.

"Noah, my roommate Mickey. Mickey, my... Noah." There, I've made the introductions.

"Noah. Oh, Noah, Noah, Noah. I've heard so much about you." Mickey sits herself on the coffee table, facing us, and props her elbows on her knees, steepling her fingers. She's an actress, and I'm pretty sure she's taking this act straight from one of her audition scenes. I'd enjoy watching her mess with Noah if I had a bit more detachment from the situation.

To his credit, Noah hasn't flinched. "It sounds like I have you to thank for taking care of Elle these past couple months. So - thank you." He meets Mickey's stare and holds it. I've pulled back slightly from him, just enough to be able to see him and to see Mickey, but his arm stays around me, one hand still splayed protectively over my belly.

"I see you finally gave up on your ridiculous plan to never speak to Elle again? And just in time, as you seem to have noticed."

I can see Noah bristle at her words and I should probably intervene before the two of them get off on the wrong foot.

"Mickey - lay off. You know -" is all I can get out before Noah jumps in.

"I can assure you I would have reconsidered waiting for Elle to make up her mind if I'd had any idea about this. If anyone had bothered to tell me." Noah sounds understandably riled and I really need to head this off.

"Both of you - chill. Mickey, back off. These are conversations Noah and I need to have. And we all know the current ridiculousness is my fault."

"Oh, honey, no doubt about that. You're both obstinate idiots. I'm just glad one of you finally caved. So who gets the prize for being slightly less bullheaded and finally calling?"

Noah snorts and I feel myself blush. One of us is going to have to tell Mickey what actually happened.

"... not really either of us?" I mumble.

"So Lee spilled the beans?" Mickey presses. There's a gleam in her eye that tells me she knows there's a story to be had.

"No."

"Well, I know I didn't, although I'll admit I was getting close. So I'm running out of suspects. Was it your dad? Was a shotgun involved?"

"It wasn't anyone. Just- bad timing. Or maybe good timing. Noah's here with his students and we, ah, ran into each other." Noah is continuing to keep an impressively straight face and I guess dealing with Mickey is more my responsibility than his.

"You just - ran into each other? And Elle's brilliant plan to wear progressively bulkier sweaters until she's ready to tell folks didn't work?"

"Not at the pool it didn't." Noah says it dryly, but the smile hiding at the corner of his lips fills me with relief. If he can find any humor in the situation... I add it to my list of hopeful omens.