Someday The Waves ✔ *Wattys15 Winner*

Chapter Twenty Two

Time will take it all,

And it will, you'll see

Promise What You Will - Sam Beam

. . . 

Friday, late September

        Holding up my palm to the Diner's cold windowpane, the rain running against it as another afternoon passed, I'd reluctantly asked Noah if he'd heard back from any of the colleges he had applied to. Ones whose names made the pain in my chest turn sharply each time they where mentioned. It hurt to picture saying goodbye to him, but what hurt the most was the not knowing, because it could be a matter of days or weeks. Not knowing when was harder to deal with.

Still, I'd tried to keep positive in the weeks that had passed since my birthday party and the lazy, incredible weekend spent in Noah's arms. So far every day at been occupied by kisses and adventure. Not wanting to waste the endless numbered days we had still together.

In the mornings when the sunlight would filter through and burn away the traces of rain, I would instead of letting my sleep deprived head linger on the pillows, hold it up high and get ready to charge into a new day, to see him. Sometimes when the change in the weather would render our bicycles useless, we'd sit out on the porch and watch the raindrops fall down from the roof, curled up safe and dry on the bench. 

It hadn't taken long for the storm the forecasters had warned us about to finally reach our shores, starting as a noisy breeze that knocked the leaves from the trees and shook the old rickety pier on the beach, threatening to sink it. The rain had been sporadic, with gloriously sunny mornings swallowed whole by sudden downpours, until they passed and bought back that familiar heat. Noah had been quite excited for the change, explaining with precision just how the storm was forming and why, enjoying having an uneducated audience to teach, namely me.

We'd been walking along the shoreline in Hillside when the dark clouds cascaded over and the rain threatened to wash us away first. During a late afternoon trip, just one of many we'd taken because both of us knew that any of them could possibly be the last. Noah had been patiently waiting for the acceptance letters to come through his door, yet so far they hadn't. I knew it was awful of me to wish each time that they never would arrive but still I did.

And so every time we'd joke and say that our stroll through the farmers market might be the last, I'd wish a little harder. When Noah lifted me high up, onto the jagged rocks to see the ocean and seabirds behind the heartless rock, the special place that he'd taken me to months ago, I hoped that someone was up there, listening to my pleads to keep him here, with me for just a little longer.

When Noah had pulled my hand and led us to the safety of an old beach hut, to shield ourselves against the heavy rain during our Hillside trip, I prayed for it to never stop so that we could stay locked in the moment forever, so that nothing changed. With every soft kiss came the growing, stabbing realisation that at any moment, it could all end.

Briefly we'd spoken about what may happen should that envelope pass through his letterbox but it wasn't something he liked to dwell on. Noah had casually mentioned, late one evening as we walked back from a day by the beach that I could go with him, and we'd just figure out all the 'grown up' stuff later on. I'd admired the way he had made it sounded so easy to just up and leave, but I knew that nothing was ever as simple or straightforward when it came to life, and that it would take more than promised words to make it a reality. Still I hoped that we could find a way.

When the days and sunsets started to get shorter, I'd asked Noah to keep me company whilst I continued on with my cleaning duties', stealing as many spare moments as I could with him in between making beds and moping kitchen floors. Until of course, it became obvious that not much could ever get done whilst he was there, with his admiring eyes and way of shorting the sensible part of my brain. There had been a few close calls, like when Noah had left his boxer shorts behind The Hales couch in our hurry to get dressed and leave before they returned. Our desire to make the minutes count had led to some tricky situations but it just made the thrill of being with him, all that more intense.

I could never resist the way he'd shyly smile and push back his hair, with big brown eyes burning into mine that told me dusting and washing could wait because our wandering hands and lips certainly couldn't.

Even during dinners with The Allen's, it became difficult to nod and smile and while away the late summer hours because it meant sitting apart, with only our knees able to brush against each other, and not those we wanted. When all the dishes had been cleared and when Lily and Jacob had been put to bed, after one too many sugary scoops of ice cream, Noah and I would make a hasty exit to the shelter of his room.

We'd been careful to still remain respectful of being under their roof, whilst they were there at least. So we would sit on his bed with the guitar, and Noah would attempt to teach me simple chords, until my fingers wished to be wrapped behind his neck instead of the guitars and his patience to teach me transpired into the urgency to kiss me, all the while the small hand on the clock warned us how fragile time was. When it came time to cycle home, under the stars where I would jokingly call each and every one by any other name than the ones Noah had taught me, mainly because I wanted to hold onto the sound of his laughter and the way it made my chest rise.

Which is why, when Noah, sat at our booth in the Diner, the wind and rain battering against the windows that looked out onto the ocean, looked up to tell me he hadn't heard back from the colleges yet my chest rose again.

Safe in the knowledge that for now, he wasn't going anywhere and that everything could remain unchanged, for just a little while longer.

To hold on tight to the moments left, before the growing storm threatened to take it all away and cast us adrift. Before the wind and rain could send the only thing that had ever mattered, to the shores of another land.

. . .