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Back The Infinite Noise Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

The panic he was feeling starts to cool, but something else sharp takes its place. Adam picks up the hat again and continues spinning it, but his hands are shaking slightly. I find myself absently wondering where the hat came from—I must have tossed it out of my closet at some point. I’m mesmerized for a moment, watching it move around and around in his fingers. It reminds me about how Adam told me he plays piano. I’d really like to see him play sometime. I’m staring at his hands, that sharp thing grating at me when I realize: he’s lying. I don’t know if he’s lying about the cheerleaders or thinking we all look like candy canes, but he’s lying.

“Huh, yeah,” I say dumbly, realizing I need to say something but not knowing what that is. There’s a right move here, I know there is. But knowing someone’s feelings doesn’t give me a guidebook on how to respond to them. That I have to make up as I go along.

“You should go with the second outfit,” Adam continues, a little too loudly, like he’s trying to distract me from my own thoughts. “The one with the skinny tie and the vest.”

“You don’t think it’s too hipster?” I ask, letting the weird moment pass. No point in lingering when I have no fucking clue what to do about it.

“Hipster isn’t always a bad thing.” He finally looks at me again, a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

“Just didn’t think I was the type of guy who could pull it off,” I mumble.

“You should have more confidence in yourself, Caleb,” he says seriously, like my self-esteem is what we’ve been talking about this whole time. My heart lurches at his words—how does he see the things no one else does—and I give a knee-jerk response.

“Yeah, well, I’m not the only one,” I say, snatching the hat out of midair and donning it dramatically.

“Ooh, them’s fighting words,” he laughs, his eyes smiling more than his mouth as he reaches for the hat that’s now on top of my head. I bat his hands away, which just makes him laugh more, and soon we’re caught in a weird not-quite-slap-fight where we’re just sitting on the floor shoving each other.