After last period Noah comes to my locker, his bag slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face.
"You ready" he asks.
I grab my bag and shut my locker, "Of Course."
We walk to our cars and he opens my door for me with a bow. I roll my eyes and get in my car, waiting for him to get in his so I can follow him back to his house. We drive for about ten minutes before we turn down a narrow dirt road that leads back into a wooded area. At he end of the road there is a beautiful house with a pond in front of it. Noah parks his truck off to the side of the driveway in the grass and I follow suit. I get out of my car and follow Noah to the front door. He lets us in, the inside of the house even more fantastic than the outside. I huge fire place with a mantle and a flat screen TV above it sits in the living room, the kitchen has a large marble island with brand new appliances and the back yard is visible through beautiful bay windows.
"I have to go put my stuff away, I'll be right back." Noah says before leaving me alone.
I walk over to the mantle where pictures are lined about the entire length. I spot one in particular that catches my eye. It's Noah and his sister with another boy who looks exactly like Noah just a few years older. Behind them there is a woman with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes a beaming smile spread across her lips. Next to her is a man who looks identical to the two boys in the picture. His long curly brown hair and bright green eyes are mesmerizing and hard to look away from, just like Noah's.
"If only we were actually as happy as we look in that picture." I hear Noah say from behind me, causing me to jump.
"I'm sorry." I respond placing the picture down.
"Don't be, this is a small town you were going to find out eventually about the poor quarterback whose brother went MIA in Afghanistan and whose dad ran away with a girl who's closer in age to his sons than to him."
He takes the frame from my hands,
"You know my brother he would like you. Thomas always had a thing for blondes."
A dry smile crosses his lips, "Turns out my dad does too, just ones that aren't exactly age appropriate."
"No families are perfect, they all have their skeletons in their closets." I say looking out into the back yard.
"Yours is." He says looking into my eyes.
"No it's not, not even close," I murmur looking down at the ground.
"You want to know the real reason why we moved to North Dakota. Why my dad left the Canes to coach at some Podunk high school. A graduate student at Miami, Mary Pellegrino, accused my dad of fathering her son, Michael. It's his too, I know it. We have the same eyes."
"Oh my god, Addison." Noah says his mouth hanging open.
"Like I said, we all have ghosts. Some are just a little more alive than others."
"The point is that you can't pick your family just like you can't control what happens to you, but you can control how you react to it and it looks like you have that handled." Noah says leaning in close to me.
I smile back to him before leaning in and pressing my lips to his. He turns to face me completely and grasps my hips. I slide my arms over his shoulders melting into his body. He begins to plant small kisses on my neck and shoulders, as a small moan escapes my lips. My hands tug at the bottom of his shirt pulling it over his head. I run my hands down his chest and undo his belt, as he kisses my on the lips.
"Well you must be Addison." someone from behind us says dryly.
I jump back from Noah to see the woman from the picture.
"I'm Lydia Callaghan, Noah's mother."
