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Chapters (82)
  1. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  2. 1. Claire
  3. CLAIRE
  4. 2. Keller
  5. KELLER
  6. 3. Claire
  7. CLAIRE
  8. 4. Claire
  9. CLAIRE
  10. 5. Claire
  11. CLAIRE
  12. 6. Keller
  13. KELLER
  14. 7. Claire
  15. CLAIRE
  16. 8. Claire
  17. CLAIRE
  18. 9. Keller
  19. KELLER
  20. 10. Claire
  21. CLAIRE
  22. 11. Claire
  23. CLAIRE
  24. 12. Claire
  25. CLAIRE
  26. 13. Claire
  27. CLAIRE
  28. 14. Claire
  29. CLAIRE
  30. 15. Claire
  31. CLAIRE
  32. 16. Claire
  33. CLAIRE
  34. 17. Claire
  35. CLAIRE
  36. 18. Claire
  37. CLAIRE
  38. 19. Keller
  39. KELLER
  40. 20. Claire
  41. CLAIRE
  42. 21. Claire
  43. CLAIRE
  44. 22. Claire
  45. CLAIRE
  46. 23. Keller
  47. KELLER
  48. 24. Claire
  49. CLAIRE
  50. 25. Claire
  51. CLAIRE
  52. 26. Claire
  53. CLAIRE
  54. 27. Claire
  55. CLAIRE
  56. 28. Claire
  57. CLAIRE
  58. 29. Claire
  59. CLAIRE
  60. 30. Claire
  61. CLAIRE
  62. 31. Claire
  63. CLAIRE
  64. 32. Keller
  65. KELLER
  66. 33. Claire
  67. CLAIRE
  68. 34. Claire
  69. CLAIRE
  70. 35. Claire
  71. CLAIRE
  72. 36. Keller
  73. KELLER
  74. 37. Claire
  75. CLAIRE
  76. 38. Claire
  77. CLAIRE
  78. 39. Keller
  79. KELLER
  80. EPILOGUE
  81. KELLER
  82. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Noah: That's insane. Who buys a fifty-dollar notebook and spends all that on a complete stranger?? I don't like it, Claire. That kid's uncle was into you, I bet. Did you encourage him?

Me: Don't be ridiculous. I did something nice for Octavia, and they wanted to do something nice for me. When I said I couldn't afford the notebook, he guessed, rightly, that I don't have much money, that's all. People are rich-rich in this town. It was just spare change for him, I bet.

Noah: People don't give away 200 bucks for nothing.

Me: They do, every day, actually. It's called charity.

Noah: So you're fine being a charity case now?

Me: I helped them. They helped me. That's not charity.

I sigh into my pillow. When Noah tries to call, I ignore it.

Noah and I have literally been together forever. He's the grandson of my grandma's best friend, Hilda. As there weren't many children in her circle, my grandma made sure we played together all the time, so I'd have a friend growing up. We shared a toddler pool, learned to write together, and when we were fifteen, he kissed me. We just made sense.

Noah's studying art at Michigan State University. I applied there too, but it was the backup of my backup school, while for him, it was always the plan. His dad lives in East Lansing, so he could stay there, save money, and work on his sculpture.

He was not impressed when I said I'd leave for California, despite the fact that Rothford gave me the academic funding equivalent of a red carpet. Staying close would have been more expensive for me. We still argued about it for days. In the end, I thought it would be best to part ways at that point, because he's right: a long-term relationship for years would suck. But the moment I mentioned it, he cried, apologized for arguing, and assured me we could make it work.

I still wasn't sure. His first point was good. But my grandmother sat me down and proceeded to tell me that I'd be a massive bitch for dropping the one boy who'd always had my back just to move on to bigger and better things in Thorn Falls—not in so many words, but the meaning was there. She was right, naturally. And I hadn't wanted to break up with Noah to find a new boyfriend; just to give us some space and room to grow while we were apart. If we were meant to be, wouldn't we find our way back to each other?

"He's been patient with you. He promised he'd wait until your wedding night, like a gentleman," my grandmother reminded me, staring me down. "He's a good boy. The best. And you'd risk that, in the off chance you might find a better one?"