“Of course. Is there anything else you need—” She was interrupted by loud rustling as Noelle grabbed a bag of gummy bears and opened it exaggeratedly slowly. I bit my lip to hold back a laugh when Amelia closed her eyes for a moment, waiting until the noise was over. “Anything else you need help with?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you certain? We could get more into exponential functions if you want . . .”

“I’m sure. My head is exploding already,” I said. “But if anything comes up I’ll definitely come back to you on that.”

“All right,” she said, gathering her things. “I will see you at dinner.”

The door had barely fallen shut behind her when Noelle tossed her headphones onto her bed and got up, locking the door, which was something she always did, before she finally headed towards me.

“Can I?” she asked.

I nodded, breath catching in my throat when she climbed onto the bed and straddled my lap. Wrapping my arms around her, I tipped my head back to look at her. “Hey.”

The kiss she pressed to my lips was unexpectedly soft, sugary sweet from the artificial strawberry flavor of the gummy bears she had just eaten. I doubted I could ever get used to this—every time her mouth found mine it drew a quiet gasp from me, like my body was surprised at every tiny bit of affection it received.

“Maths schoolwork? Really?” Noelle leaned back slightly. “I could have helped you with that.”

“I know.” My voice came out sounding embarrassingly breathy after just one kiss. “But then we just would’ve ended up like this again.”

I felt her chuckle more than I heard it. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is if I fail.”

“You won’t fail,” she said. “You’re too smart for that.”

I only gave a quiet hum and tipped my chin back. She got the message and, with an affectionate laugh, leaned in for another kiss that made my head feel even fuzzier. Noelle had the ability to wipe my brain of any comprehensible thought within seconds; it should have been alarming, but with her weight in my lap and her fingers gently tracing the shell of my ear, I could feel nothing but a giddy sense of wonder.

“You taste like sweets,” I dumbly informed her when she pulled back.

“You’re sweet,” she murmured. When I let out a surprised laugh, she leaned back, a horrified expression on her face. “Shit, forget that I said that. Who am I becoming?”

Before I could respond, the silence was interrupted by a sound that made both of us jump. There was a short drum solo, followed by an electric guitar and then a smoky female voice.

On top of me, Noelle noticeably tensed.

“Sorry, that’s my phone,” she said, a confused furrow between her brows, and got up.

I watched her cross the room to fetch it, immediately feeling cold without her on top of me. Over the past weeks, I had noticed that Noelle had different ringtones for different people: Jasper’s was the French national anthem and the one time Seth had called her, her phone had played the opening theme of BBC’s Sherlock. This one I had never heard before.