As soon as I’m alone, something ugly and shameful crosses my mind. I should text Noah. I should tell him I’m going to a party. I don’t. I should have told him about Darius Keller, too. I certainly didn’t. It doesn’t seem worth it in light of yesterday’s argument.

But the nugget of guilt grows larger as I time passes. Finally, I give in, glancing at my phone.

I haven’t talked to him much since last night, but there are several messages from his end.

Noah: You know I didn’t mean to call you a charity case. It’s odd though. It’s a lot of money.

Noah: I’m sorry.

Noah: The guys are wondering how you’re doing.

Me: Good! I grabbed the books I needed. Eager to start Monday.

Noah: That’s my girl!

Noah: Your grandma says hi!

Noah: Facetime tonight? I miss you.

Noah: ??

I glance at the time. Ten thirty. Lily isn’t back yet, so that’s perfect. I call, with video, and only when the phone has started to ring do I realize that I’m wearing the skirt.

I scramble to climb under my sheets just as the call connects.

“Hey!”

I grin at the screen. Noah’s handsome. Shaggy brown hair, warm honey-gold eyes, he’s well built after four years of varsity sports—perhaps less so right now. He hasn’t played since last semester, and won’t be playing in college.

“Claire Bear. You move to a fancy town and forget all about the rest of us, huh?” He’s grinning, but there’s a bit of accusation both in his tone and the way his eyebrow raises questioningly.

He last texted over two hours ago.

“I was socializing. I ate dinner with my roommate, Lily. She’s super nice.” I start to tell him about her cosplaying, but I haven’t gone far when he interrupts me.

“Listen, I’m out with the guys. We were just about to head home and I’m the DD, you mind if I call you in the morning?”

“Oh, right!” By the looks of the background, he’s in a quiet room—there’s no loud noise, and the wall’s plain, so I didn’t realize he wasn’t home. “I was just returning your text. Catch you later.”

In truth, I’m relieved to keep it short tonight.

The guilt doesn’t shift, because I still haven’t confessed to any of what I’m up to. But to be fair, he didn’t give me a chance to get to it.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell him about the party, I decide. I also consciously make the choice to bypass any mention of Keller. That’s truly not worth it.

Maybe that’s why the guilt doesn’t dissipate—because I’m hiding something. But little white lies don’t hurt anyone. It’s not like I’m cheating.