Let Go Of Your Halo [2/3]
Title: Let Go Of Your Halo [2/3]
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: AU (affectionately referred to as Country Boy!Puck): Her fathers' logic for this whole thing is stupid, too. They say she's adult enough to not have them for a whole summer, but they insist she not stay at home alone. How does that make any sense at all?
Word Count: 24,800 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Aviva goes out with Sam's mother for a shopping day and leaves Rachel with her car keys, tells her there's a full tank of gas and she should go out and explore, get out of the house so she's not so cooped up.
Frankly, she takes Aviva up on the offer just so she can take advantage of the car's air conditioning.
She drives slowly down the gravel road, and she doesn't care that there's someone behind her because there's also a tractor in front of her and the road isn't wide enough to pass anyone, so she just keeps her distance behind the huge green piece of machinery in front of her and checks in her rear view to keep an eye on the man in the truck. He doesn't seem too annoyed. She's sure this is a fairly common occurrence considering they're completely surrounded by tobacco fields.
When she gets to town, she drives along Main Street (yes, it is called that) and sees the shops there. Predictably, there's a butcher, a general store, a grocer and a post office. There's also a little boutique she doesn't think anyone's stepped foot in in about 40 years, a gas station, and the newspaper's office.
That's about it.
She knows there's a diner at the end of Main Street, because Hannah told her sometimes Noah takes her there for banana splits. Of course he does. (She thinks he's a better sibling than he likes to let on.)
She could use something to drink, so she stops in at the convenience store and buys herself a Diet Coke. The boy at the counter is about 16 and eyes her like he's trying to figure out if he's seen her before. She doesn't tell him one way or another, just says thank you and drops her change into the little tip jar sitting on the counter. She can feel his eyes on her as she leaves, and she doesn't know if he'd just do that anyway, or if it's because her black dress with white polkadots is a halter and the ties fall midway down her back between her shoulder blades.
And now she's out of ideas as to what to do. She does have a good sense of direction, though.
When she gets back into her car, one of her favourite Pink songs is on the radio, so she cranks the volume up higher and keeps driving on Main Street until she's no longer technically in town.
She passes the driving range, which looks like it's seen better days. The parking lot is full, though, so she's thinking it's probably one of the more popular spots in town. She passes farms and farmland. There's a little bungalow close to the road and two little blonde kids jumping on a trampoline in the yard. They wave at her as she drives past, and she waves back because they're quite cute, really.
She sees a familiar looking truck driving in her direction. She doesn't know why Noah would be out this way when he was supposed to be working today, but then she checks the clock on the dash and sees that he probably finished about an hour ago. He doesn't always come home straight after work, but most days he does, comes home and heads straight for the shower.
He raises his hand off the steering wheel as they pass one another. She almost feels embarrassed or nervous or something, which is just completely irrational.
She drives until she hits the next town, which is even smaller than the one she's been closest to these past couple weeks. As she pulls into a parking lot so she can turn around, a very cute boy her age walking down the sidewalk stares at her like he's never seen anything like her before.
She's not stupid. She knows she's pretty. She had a boyfriend who told her all the time, and Santana's always telling her how hot she is, how they wouldn't be friends if she wasn't. She knows how boys look at her. That was one of the many reasons she and Finn broke up; she liked the attention and he hated that she got it, thought she should only want him looking at her. But really, who wouldn't want to know people find them attractive? And besides, girls looked at Finn all the time. He was quarterback and so, so talented in almost everything he did. He was just a little too clueless to notice them looking and too humble and a little on the shy side, so he didn't believe her when she told him that the cheerleaders for the team he was playing against were staring at his ass in his football pants.
Anyway.
She doesn't mind this boy in his faded jeans and (honest to god) cowboy boots smiling at her like he is.
It's not like she's desperate or anything. She and Finn dated for two solid years and he was always, always enough for her. He was her first everything. First kiss, first love, first time. She still loves him, parts of him, and probably always will. She may not be with him anymore, and she doesn't want to be with him anymore, but she does miss certain things about him.
She didn't tell him she was leaving, so when she gets back to the house and she's reading in her room, she's not totally surprised to see a text from him come through on her phone.
Where are you? Went to the house today and no one home.
No one is home here, either. She figured Noah had come back here, but he mustn't have. She knows Aviva will be home soon.
Summer vacation.
That's all she writes back, because she knows well enough that if they keep talking, she'll just get sucked in again, even if she has no intentions of being with him. It's so easy with him, so comfortable.
That sucks! Well, for me. Miss you.
He doesn't miss her. Not like he's letting on, anyway.
She can't focus on her book anymore, and she wants to help out around the house, so she starts making something for dinner and sweeps the kitchen, runs a vacuum over the living room floor and dusts the furniture in all of the downstairs of the house.
Aviva and Hannah walk in and Noah is close behind. They spend the evening after dinner in the living room watching a movie.
Noah says, "Suck up," when his mom isn't paying attention. Yes, the woman praised her earlier for helping out with the housework. Really, it's the least she can do. "What were you doing today?"
She shrugs. "Nothing, really. I was sick of being cooped up in the house."
He nods like he understands. "We'll do something tomorrow night," he says.
"Like what?" she asks. She's kind of excited, to be honest.
"Dunno. I'll think of something."
He grins at her and she smiles back. That grin could be really misleading, because it's kind of flirtatious, but he wouldn't flirt with her with his mother in the room, would he?
... ... ...
He spins his keys on his finger after dinner and Rachel dries her hands on a towel. It was her turn to wash dishes, and his mom said that since the kids had plans or whatever, they could just leave them on the rack to dry. He didn't get out of his 'chore' either. It just didn't take him as long to wash his mom's car as it did for Rachel to do the dishes, which, if you ask him, is totally messed up.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Should I change?" She looks down at herself and his eyes skim over her.
Frankly, he's liking the denim shorts she's wearing and the loose flowery top with the zipper all the way up the front. So no, she shouldn't change.
"Nah. We're not doin' anything big anyway," he explains.
He doesn't really know what they're doing. He's hoping she'll be game to just ride around in his truck for a while.
When they step outside and are walking towards his truck, she's got this little smile on her face and he thinks it's kind of pretty on her, actually.
"What?" he asks.
"Nothing," she insists. "It just feels cooler."
He laughs again. "'S'the breeze," he tells her. "Still hot as fuck."
"Yes, well, my shirt isn't sticking to me, so I like the breeze." He laughs at her and she pulls the door to his truck open, climbs inside and clips her seat belt on. "So what is your plan?"
"Don't have one."
"Really?"
He shrugs and starts the engine. "Really. There's not much to do."
"I know," she says, body angled towards his as he pulls out onto the dirt road. "I just kind of thought maybe someone who's lived here his whole life might know some secrets."
He raises his brow and glances at her. "I know secrets. Locals just don't like to share them with snotty city girls."
"Hey!" she cries. She's laughing, which is cute. "I'm not that snotty, and I'm not even from a city."
"Compared to this?" He's got her there and he knows it.
"Well, I know I'm not as snotty as that Quinn girl," she says. He tenses a little, because he knows she's going to ask about his relationship with Quinn and he fucking hates talking about it. "I just can't see you dating her."
Not what he expected.
"Why not?"
"Because," she says, shrugging one shoulder. "She seems kind of mean."
"I'm kind of mean."
"No, you're not," she insists quietly.
She sounds like she actually believes that. He likes that she does, kind of.
"Whatever. Q and I were fucked up. Basically we were popular and in high school that means you should date," he explains. It's mostly the truth. "Her god-fearin' parents hated me 'cause I'm Jewish and I took her virginity when she was 16."
There's a long pause, then she says a quiet, "Oh," and he looks at her. "No, I'm not judging. I just didn't expect that kind of honesty."
Well, he's not a liar and he's got nothing to hide. His relationship with Quinn isn't like, some kind of sacred topic he won't talk about, it's just over and he doesn't care anymore. Quinn likes to think he's still hers somehow, probably because she's really the first and only girl he ever actually had a relationship with. But it's bullshit, 'cause the breakup was messy and she actually said the words, 'I hate you', and most days he thinks she meant them.
"What about you?" he asks, turning onto the main road. He's not going to town, taking her in the opposite direction. She doesn't ask questions, and he likes that.
"God," she says, laughing a little. "Dated a boy for two years."
"The same one?" he asks, eyes wide. Shit. Two years?
"Yes," she giggles. "Finn. We started dating at the end of sophomore year."
"Why'd you break up?"
"Depending on who you talk to, a lot of reasons, or no reason at all." He doesn't really get that and she must be able to sense it. "I think he still believes we could make it work. It's a sweet sentiment, but it's kind of bullshit, too." He laughs at her swearing, just because he's never heard her do it before. "He's great, but he's not right for me anymore. We kind of just grew up, you know?"
"Yeah," he says quietly.
She turns up the radio and they don't talk for a while, until he steers the truck into a field on an access road that's covered over by grass and she grips the edge of the seat with one hand and the handle above the door with the other.
"Noah."
"Relax," he laughs.
She doesn't, but he knows what he's doing.
This is one of his favourite spots, but he doesn't come down here very often anymore. Quinn hated it and he doesn't like to share the secret with anyone. Rachel's not sticking around, so he doesn't care if she knows. Plus, he didn't just want to take her to the pool hall to hang out, or go to a movie or something dumb like that. There's a lot more to North Carolina than just tobacco fields and tiny towns. Some of the hidden stuff is the best stuff.
He stops in front of a tree line and cuts the engine, but leaves the keys in the ignition. He knows who owns this land and their house is a few miles away. They also don't care if he's on their property as long as he doesn't mess around here.
"C'mon," he says, pushing his door open. She climbs down out of the truck and walks in front of it.
"Where are we?" she asks, looking around.
He walks along the tree line until he gets to the little opening he's looking for, then turns and smiles at her. "Just come here and I'll show you."
He doesn't really know why he grabs her by the hand, but he does it and she lets him, so he doesn't think too hard on it. He pulls her through the clearing and down the little path. He starts being able to hear the water before they really get there, and she tightens her hold on his hand. Either she's scared or just can't wait to see what he's showing her.
The clearing is one of the coolest things, because it's all flat rock until the edge of the creek. The creek itself is only about 10 feet wide, but at this one part, the flat rock is about 20 feet and goes on for about 40. It's kind of a weird little spot and he's never seen anything like it. He doesn't even remember how he found this place.
"It's really pretty," she says softly, still holding his hand. He strokes his thumb over hers a little bit.
"Wait 'til it gets dark."
"Are we staying that long?" she asks, looking up at him with wide eyes.
He chuckles. "You got anywhere else to be?"
She smiles at him and then narrows her eyes playfully, takes her hand away from his and walks to the edge of the rock. He's not too worried about her falling in or anything, 'cause it's not like there's much of a current and the water's clean and clear and probably about 80 degrees at this time of year. And a little part of him thinks it'd be at least a bit funny if she did fall in. He's not gonna tell her that, though.
"There's a fish in here!"
He laughs at her and walks over. "Lots of them, actually," he tells her. She's so city, even if she says she's not.
"My fathers aren't exactly the outdoorsy types," she says laughingly. "Their idea of roughing it is to rent a cottage on Lake Michigan."
He lets out a little laugh, looks down to his feet. His idea of roughing it is a sleeping bag and a patch of grass. He'd offer to take her, but he's pretty sure she'd say no anyway.
And because he's starting to feel like they're opening up too much or something, he needs to do something to make this fun again and less heavy.
So he readies his arms to catch her, then knees her in the ass. He's got his arms around her before she can fall in the water, but she screams anyway and kicks her legs, shouts his name as he pulls her back from the edge. She spins around and shoves at his chest hard as he laughs his ass off at her.
She's actually kind of a cool girl now that she's not sulking all the time and he's mostly gotten over the fact that she's living in his basement. It doesn't really feel like she's messing up his summer. She's just kind of becoming part of it.
She eventually lies down on the rock and looks up at the sky after the sun has gone down. She asks him to lie down next to her, and lord knows why he does. Her hand touches his for a second before she moves it away, and then she says, "Thanks for bringing me here, Noah."
He doesn't really respond to that, just says, "You got a thing for stars, right?" and watches her smile in the moonlight.
... ... ...
She's in her room listening to music and reading when he comes down the stairs Saturday afternoon without knocking. The door was open and she's clearly dressed, but still.
"Sam's having a few people over tonight if you wanna come," he says, standing at the foot of her bed.
She smiles and nods. "Sure," she says.
"What are you reading?"
"Honestly, I don't even know why I'm reading it," she says, laughing and closing the tattered book. "I've read it so many times."
"What's it about?" he asks.
So she tells him all about Paper Towns and he seems genuinely interested, sits on her bed leaning back on his elbows and hangs out in her room until his mom calls and asks for his help bringing in groceries. He rolls his eyes and gets up. She thinks it's strange how he does that, makes it seem like he's some lazy teenager when he really works all day and helps his mom out however he can.
He's a good guy. Part of her wishes he'd stop pretending he's not.
"7:00," he says. She nods and starts thinking about what to wear.
She helps Aviva with dinner, chops mushrooms and onions to garnish the steaks Noah seems far too eager to barbecue. He's got a 'secret technique', he says. He tries to tempt her into eating one, but her stomach rolls at just the thought, and he makes fun of her for saying that. It's going to take more than a cute boy and a secret barbecue sauce or whatever to give up her vegetarianism. She prepares a salad and helps Hannah set the table. She likes fitting in here, because she honestly doubted that she would.
After dinner, she goes back to her room and closes the door, listens to some music and tries to pick which dress to wear. Yes, she's wearing a dress. It's hot and humid and she cannot honestly bear another night outside with anything at all on her arms. She picks a green one with white piping and skinny straps, lines her eyes a little more than she normally would and pulls her hair up, pins it in place so it's off her back.
At 7:00 exactly, she heads back upstairs and sees Noah in the kitchen drinking from a glass of water and talking to his mom. He looks her up and down once, then twice, and says, "Okay," like he's confused about something.
He tells Aviva they'll be back later, but doesn't specify a time. Rachel's learned that when he goes to Sam's place, he really doesn't have to be too detailed when he explains his plans to his mother.
Once they're outside and she's pulling the door closed behind her, she nervously asks, "Do I not look okay?"
He turns to face her and looks at her like she's stupid. "You look fine. You do realize we're just going to Sam's, right?"
She looks down at herself and steps down off the porch. "Fine?"
She sees him roll his eyes and smile. "You look great. Jesus. Why do girls always do that?"
And she'd tell him not to generalize like that, but she's a little more concerned with the fact that he's walked past his truck and is now heading for the road. "Noah."
He chuckles like he knew she was going to do this. "It's only about a mile."
"A mile?"
He walks backwards and smirks at her. "Think you can handle it?"
He's challenging her, and he's only known her two and a half weeks, so he really can't know that she can never back down from a challenge. She catches up to him easily, though running in flip flops is no easy task. She thinks about asking him if she can go change her footwear, but he'll probably ridicule her endlessly and she's not up for that.
"How come I never hear you sing?"
She's a little caught off guard by the question. "You're not home during the day," she explains. "I practice then. I don't want to bother anyone." He nods like that makes sense, swings his arms by his sides and matches his steps to hers so he's not walking ahead of her. "How come I never hear you play guitar? I know you do. Your mom told me."
He shrugs his shoulder and stares straight ahead. "A little."
"A little?"
"It's not really a big thing. I just mess around sometimes." She watches his face and he's practically insistent on not looking at her. "It's not like it's gonna give me any kind of future."
It's not an insult - she knows that - but it still feels like one. She's going to school for music and it's her passion, and he's not telling her that no one can have a future in music, but the way he just said that makes her think there's a part of him that feels that way.
"You don't know that," she says.
"It's not what I'm passionate about or anything, really," he says. "I like it, but it's not like, everything to me."
He nudges her with his elbow, so she smiles. "What are you passionate about?"
He shrugs again. "Dunno. Isn't college for figuring that shit out?"
She supposes he has a point there.
They talk for the rest of the walk. He points out houses off in the distance that belong to people she doesn't know. He kicks at stones on the gravel road and she resists the urge to smell all the wild flowers growing along the fence line. He tells her where the Evans' farmland starts, points out the house and tells her they're almost there. They're certainly not in any big rush. They're just kind of strolling along and taking their time. It doesn't annoy her like she thought maybe it would. It feels nice to just slow down and relax and not push everything so hard all the time.
She's not telling anyone she feels that way.
As they walk up the Evans' long driveway, Noah catches her looking at the sprawling farm, big outbuildings and tractors parked nearby.
"You wanna see the horses?" he asks.
She bites her lip, smiles and nods her head. "Yeah."
"Come on." He jerks his head in bit the direction of the old wood barn and she follows him towards it. He slides open the big wooden door and she hears the horses inside. He leads her past a few stalls, then opens the gate to one and steps in. "This is Meredith." Rachel giggles. "Yeah, Sam's little sister named her. There's also a Colton."
"Very appropriate," Rachel says as she looks at this huge animal in front of her.
"She's my favourite. Aren't you, girl?"
Rachel watches him run his hand down the horse's side and pat her a couple times. "You're good with her."
He shrugs. "Horses are easy." Meredith whinnies and takes a few steps sideways towards him. "You can touch her. She won't spook."
She reaches out carefully and sets her hand above the horse's nose, just below her eyes. Rachel rubs her hand up and down a few times, and Meredith's ears twitch. It makes Rachel smile. This is oddly calming, being near an animal this big, but this relaxed.
"You've never seen a horse before, have you?" he asks knowingly, a grin on his lips.
She shakes her head. "No. Not like this," she admits. "She's beautiful."
"Yeah," he says quietly, petting the horse again. They stand there for a few moments, just the three of them in the quiet, then Noah turns to her and smiles a bit. "Come on."
She just kind of trusts him whenever he says that. She wonders if she should question why. Then again he keeps taking her to see and do kind of wonderful things, so why shouldn't she trust him?
The Evans' house is a big white two-storey farmhouse with a screened in porch and flowers lining the walkway. Noah is obviously comfortable here; he pushes the door open and walks inside without knocking, kicks off his shoes and leads her through to the kitchen.
When he said 'some people' she assumed there would be more than just Sam and Matt here. They have cans of Coke in front of them, and poker chips and a deck of cards out. Neither of them looks surprised to see her. In fact, Sam says, "You look pretty," and she blushes as Noah kicks out the chair next to his for her to sit in.
"You play?" he asks before she can thank Sam.
"Not really."
"You're about to shark us," Noah says, laughing.
"No," she giggles. "I've only played twice. One time I was drunk, and the other time everyone else was."
The guys all laugh and Sam deals her in.
This is fun. They trash talk one another, the boys do, and she laughs along with them and tries to hold her own and fails miserably. They take pity on her and even after she's lost all her chips, they each give her some of theirs so she can keep playing. Sam is by far the best at the table, but Noah is very good, too. He also keeps refilling her water glass for her every time he gets up for anything, and once, he slides his hand along her back as he's sitting down again.
Her phone rings just after another hand is dealt, so she answers, laughing, and Santana asks, "Where the hell are you?"
"Sam's."
"Sam's?"
"With Noah." He tosses her blind in for her. "Matt is here, too," she feels the need to add. "We're playing poker. I'm awful."
"Yeah, babe, I know," Santana laughs. "Why are you hanging out with the boys?"
Rachel thinks about it for a minute. "I don't know."
Santana laughs. "Well, are you fucking any of them?"
Rachel rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "No," she answers. Noah leans over and peeks at her cards, raises Sam's bet. She was going to fold, and she's not upset with him helping her. The other guys don't seem to mind either. "Are you...doing that with anyone?" They both laugh. Of course she is. "Who?"
"Just this guy. He's kind of stupidly hot. He's like, an actor or something. Actually, if you were here he'd probably pick you instead of me. He sings or whatever."
"Really?"
"He's basically you, with a dick."
Rachel giggles and Noah tosses more of her chips in the middle of the table after Sam sets three cards on the table. "That's disturbing."
"Yeah, kind of," Santana admits. "Whatever. Jesse's hot and so conceited it's really easy to hate him. Totally my type."
Rachel shakes her head and Noah folds his cards, but tosses more of her chips into the pot, and she's a little worried as to what on earth he's doing, because all she has is a pair of fours and a king.
"I have to go," she says. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Don't worry," Santana laughs. "I won't fuck up next year by getting pregnant."
They both giggle, but honestly, the last night they spent together before Santana left, it was the only pact they made for the summer. Neither of them was allowed to do anything do jeopardize their first year together in New York.
And they talk all the time, at least once every couple days. Santana knows about Noah, Sam and Matt, knows about the other night with Noah at that creek and everything. Rachel doesn't know why Santana didn't mention this guy she's sleeping with, but she knows Santana. Boys are disposable items, and summer flings are practically a just a direct line to sex without really having to work too hard for it. Or be in a relationship.
She ends her call and sets her phone on the table again just as Noah says, "She raises," and pushes more chips towards the pot.
She'd say his name, but he's probably doing that bluffing thing, and she can see that Matt's trying hard to read both of them. He's the only one left in this hand. He calls her, then Noah tells him to check, and Matt has basically nothing. He's got a four, five, six, seven, so it's obvious he was going for a straight, then just tried to out bluff her. Or Noah. Whatever. The point is, she wins.
And clearly none of them know how she deals with victory, because Noah calls her fucking insane and Sam laughs and Matt just shakes his head when she dances in her seat and sweeps her chips towards her and says, "I win, I win, I win," in a sing-songy voice.
"I kinda won for you," Noah says, and she shrugs her shoulder and starts stacking her chips by colour.
"The cards were dealt to me."
"I played them. You were on the phone."
She leans over so she's really right in his face and asks, "Jealous?" and sweeps her hand over the piles in front of her. It's silly because she's got nowhere near as many chips as him, so he just laughs in her face and pushes her shoulder until she's back in her own seat again.
At the end of the night, Matt asks them if they want a ride home, and Noah looks at her like he doesn't care one way or another and it's all up to her. She decides she likes the walk.
It's late and dark, but he stays close to her and the night is clear, the moon high in the sky. There are noises and bugs and she still swears she's never heard so much silence.
He's not talking, so she's thinking about what Santana asked her earlier. Why was she with the boys? Why did Noah want her there for his poker game? The other boys didn't mind that she'd tagged along, so has he talked to them about her like she's talked to Santana about him? And what has he said?
"Why did you bring me tonight?" she asks when they're halfway home. He's bending down every so often to pick up pieces of gravel, then lob them down the road.
"What do you mean?"
She rolls her eyes. "I mean, why did you bring me to your boys' night?"
He shrugs his shoulder and tosses a stone. It clangs off something in the distance and she looks over to see him smiling. He's been aiming for a road sign she can't even see in this kind of darkness. That scares her. What else can't she see?
"Noah," she prods, when it becomes apparent he's not going to answer.
"I dunno," he says, like she's exhausting. "I like hanging out with you." She smiles and he bends down for more rocks. She hears him drop them from one hand into the other. "You're a sweetheart."
Her stomach is full of butterflies and she really hopes his eyesight isn't good enough that he can see her blushing, because she most definitely is. She could thank him, but he'd just brush it off.
"You're full of surprises, you know that?" she says instead, watching him as they walk.
He throws a rock hard, it hits the sign again, and he smirks at her.
"You ain't seen nothin' yet."
She lies awake in her bed thinking of all the possible ways he could have meant that, and honestly, she can't find one that is in any way bad.
... ... ...
She's on her phone a lot. If she's not talking to one or both of her dads, she's talking to her best friend, so sometimes it feels like she never shuts the hell up long enough to really do anything at all. It's not true, obviously, but sometimes he can hear her in her room when he's in other parts of the house, and he wants to tell her to get some sunlight and come out of the cave.
He's in the kitchen for coffee and breakfast on a day when his mom works and he doesn't. Hannah's in bed and Rachel's downstairs. He can hear her on the phone, and he'd rolled his eyes when he walked downstairs and heard her talking to someone. He's not eavesdropping or anything, but he can hear her voice and the way she's talking, and it's different.
Then he hears her sigh and say, "Finn, you can't just say that to me." And yeah, now he's eavesdropping. "Because we broke up." He sips his coffee and wonders what's really going on, and he swears he's usually not this nosy. "You can't...Don't call me again, okay? You're making me feel really terrible."
He hears her footsteps coming up the stairs a few minutes later, and she's swiping at her cheeks when she steps into the kitchen.
"Hey," he says gently, because she's obviously upset and he doesn't want to make it worse.
"I forgot you were here."
"Yeah." She turns away from him and sniffles a bit. "Hey, you okay?"
"I'm fine," she promises, flashing him the worst fake smile he's ever seen. "I'm fine. My ex-boyfriend just told me that he's still in love with me and that my being away and us being broken up has made him completely miserable. I'm fine."
She said all that really fast, and her eyes are all shiny and he knows she's going to start crying any second. He can't handle crying women. He always feels the need to make them stop, do whatever he can. His mom says it's because he spent so much time helping take care of Hannah when she was a baby.
"Rachel."
"Don't," she snaps, but he doesn't care. He puts his arms around her whether she wants it or not. It's really fucking weird to think he's never really touched her much at all, that this is the first time they've ever actually hugged. "Noah, don't."
So he's careful with her, and after a few moments, she actually wraps her arms around him and kind of presses her face against his chest. She's all soft and little and warm, and yeah, he's into it. Her hands tug at the shirt at his back, which throws him for a moment until he realizes she just wants something to hold onto. She takes a big, deep breath, lets it out slowly and pulls herself away from him.
"Better?" he asks. And maybe he's cocky about it, but who cares?
She peers up at him from under her wet lashes, her hands still on his hips. "You give really good hugs."
"I know." She laughs a little, looks away from him. "Don't let that guy make you feel guilty for ending it."
Yeah, he's kind of speaking from experience on that one. Tries two and three with Quinn never should have happened, and never would have if not for her telling him he owed it to her to try a little harder. Whatever that means.
"I don't want him to be miserable," she says. She walks away and sits down at the table, and he pours her a cup of coffee. "But he can't blame all that on me, either."
"No," he says. He shrugs his shoulder again, sits down across from her. "But he's gonna anyway."
She takes a deep breath and huffs it out like she's trying really hard to get over this but she's still pissed. She takes a long sip of hot coffee and sets her mug down on the table. "Can we do something?" she asks, looking up at him again. "I really just...You're good at forcing me to take my mind off things."
He smirks. He can't help it. He's kind of thinking about how blank her mind would be if...
"Yeah," he says before that train of thought can get too far. He doesn't have a lot of shame, but he tries not to fantasize about girls while they're still right there in front of him. "What do you want to do?"
"The creek?" she asks hopefully.
She goes to change, and he grabs a couple towels just in case and tosses a few bottles of water into his backpack, along with some snacks. She comes up the stairs in a pair of denim shorts, a white tee shirt with a V neck, and a bright pink bikini underneath.
She puts her feet up on the dash of his truck as they drive, and he thinks she probably spends some time in the yard when he's at work, because she's more tanned now than she was when she first showed up. Not that she's been here long. He doesn't know how he feels about that, knowing she's here the entire rest of the summer. He likes her more than he probably should already. He was supposed to hate her and everything and it turns out she's this sweet girl he likes hanging out with. And she's completely fucking hot, too, which makes things even more confusing.
Not so much confusing, actually. She hops down out of the truck with no problems, and with her hair down like that and those tiny little shorts on, she looks every bit the country girl she isn't. He likes it. Then again, he thinks she'd be sexy no matter what look she was going for.
She takes his hand this time, so he can lead her through the little clearing and help her down over the rocks. The last thing he needs is her twisting her ankle out here or something.
"I really love it out here," she says. She makes it sound like some kind of a secret, even though they're the only two around for a good mile or two anyway. "Can I put my feet in?"
He laughs at her and tugs his shirt off over his head. "Go nuts."
She hesitates, though, and chews on her bottom lip a little, glancing at the creek. "The fish won't bite?"
He tries not to laugh at her again because he knows she doesn't know, but it's still really funny. "They're just bluegills," he says, then realizes she won't know what that means either. "They won't bite."
She pulls off her shirt, too, (fuck) and lowers herself down so she's sitting at the edge of the rocks with her toes dipped in. He watches her test the water and then push her feet in all the way so the water comes up to just the middle of her calf. She looks at him over her shoulder, squinting against the sun. "Don't push me in," she warns him.
He sits down next to her and dips his feet into the water. "I'm not gonna push you."
She lies back beside him and stretches her arms over her head. It doesn't really matter that he's got sunglasses on; she'll know he's looking at her anyway. Whatever. She's not wearing a shirt and she's right next to him, so yeah, he's gonna check her out.
"Stop," she laughs, reaching over to hit his hip. He chuckles along with her and leans back on his elbows. But no, he doesn't really take his eyes off her. "What?"
"Nothing." He kicks his feet a little in the water, but not enough to splash. "You're pretty."
She just stares at him for a few seconds, then she gives him this little smile, takes a deep breath and shakes her head. "That's not the word I thought you were going to use," she admits.
He laughs again (it should be weird that he has this much fun with her) and then looks straight ahead. "It's not really the one I was thinkin'," he admits. He gives her a smirk. "'S'true, though."
She chews on her bottom lip, then adjusts her shorts at her hips. Yeah, not hot at all. "Which one were you thinking?"
"There're a few. They're all good."
She wears this pretty smile for a few moments, then looks away and they just lay there in the quiet for a while.
He's not the kind of guy who always needs to be doing something. He works hard and helps out at home, so when he gets time to just lay around and do nothing, he likes to take advantage of that. He just usually does it alone. Yeah, he'll hang out with his boys and do whatever, but he likes the quiet and not having a timeline or a schedule or anyone telling him what he has to do next. Rachel doesn't strike him as the kind of girl who likes that, but then she'll just lay here like this, or she'll walk down a dirt road late at night and she proves him wrong. And he thinks that maybe she's not into this kind of thing, she just knows that's what you do around here and she's taking advantage of it. Because lord knows the girl likes to talk, and from what he knows of her she's been in every school club and dance class she could possibly be in from the time she was like, three.
So maybe she's due for some days like this.
"I'm going to fall asleep," she admits. She does sound tired. It's cute.
"Don't do that."
"Talk to me, then." She sounds like she's about to laugh. He doesn't know at what. She's weird that way.
"About what?" he asks. He turns his head and she's just looking at him. There's about a foot of space between them right now.
"I don't know. Anything."
And he doesn't much feel like talking, and he really likes the way she looks right now, so he leans up on one elbow so he's kind of hovering over her, and pulls her sunglasses off her face before doing the same with his. Her eyes are wide like she knows what he's going to do. He gives her a second to tell him she doesn't want it, but she doesn't say a word, so he grins a little and she smiles up at him.
And when he kisses her, she lets out this tiny sound and puts her hand on his shoulder, so he moves a little closer until he's half on top of her. First kisses probably aren't supposed to be like this one, but he doesn't give a shit, because it feels so fucking good. His hand lands on her side and her skin is hot to the touch from the sunlight, and this is probably as uncomfortable for her as it is for him, since they're lying on rock, but when he tries to pull away and tell her they should move, she curves her hand around the back of his neck and drags him down towards her again.
So yeah, he's thinking he can handle the rocks.
"Noah," she whispers when he kisses along her jaw and moves his hand down so it's on her hip. The arm that's supporting him is going numb, but he doesn't give a shit. "God, you're really good at this."
He laughs against her skin and then his lips find hers again. When she opens her mouth for him, he can't help but moan, which makes her fingers dig into his skin. And yeah, this is good and...Well, way better than good. They've been kissing for less than five minutes and he's already having a hard time keeping his hand from wandering. He wants to touch every part of her, but he's not a jerk and he can wait. Maybe. Shit, she's sexy. Her skin is so smooth and when he moves his hand down over her thigh and grabs her right above the knee, she does exactly what he wants her to and moves so she's on her side facing him.
"Ow," she whimpers, so he pulls away to look at her. She's in pain. He fucking hates it. "Something's..." She reaches beneath her, so they're forced to move away from one another a bit. She pulls a jagged rock out from underneath her, and her hand comes up with a little blood on it.
"Shit."
"It's fine. I'm fine," she promises. Then he can see the wheels turning in her head and he knows she's freaking out. "Do you have a first aid kit in your truck?"
He doesn't mean to scoff at her, but it happens anyway. "No." He pushes her onto her back, then makes her lean over a bit so he can see the cut on her side better. It's about an inch long and it's trickling blood and she's looking at him over her shoulder. "C'mon. Let's go."
She laughs a bit. "I don't need an emergency room, Noah," she tells him.
He stands up and reaches his hands down to help her up. "I know that. Gotta clean it, though."
He's got no problems with blood, so he uses his hand to wipe away what's currently on her skin, then cleans his hand off in the water. He takes her hand again, but she's the one leading him back to his truck, and yeah, he takes a second to look at her ass, but he's mostly just worried about the cut bleeding on her side. It's not like it's a huge gash or anything. It's just a surface wound and it's not even close to needing stitches, but he doesn't like the way the blood looks on her skin. He keeps wiping it away with his tee shirt so it doesn't trickle down to her shorts. His shirt's from Target and came in a pack of five, so he's not all that concerned about it. He gives it to her when they get to the truck so she can hold it against the cut and try to stop the bleeding. By the time they're pulling into his driveway, the cut's just surrounded by dried blood, and he thinks that's grossing her out more than anything.
He gets her to sit on the bathroom counter and reaches for the iodine his mom keeps in the medicine cabinet, grabs a washcloth.
"Noah," she laughs, "you're treating me like I have a gunshot wound." She twists to the side to see the cut. "It's not that bad."
Except that when she moved, it opened again and he can see it starting to bleed. He pours the iodine over the cut without warning her (that's what his mom does; it's cruel, but not) and she practically screams and definitely hits him.
"Easy," he chuckles.
"That was really mean."
She has tears in her eyes. Damn.
But he just leans in and kisses her gently, because he can do that now. "Sorry." He uses the damp cloth to clean her up. "Mom'll lose her shit when she gets home."
Rachel laughs tearfully and wipes her eyes. "I'm fine."
"You're bleeding," he says, totally mocking her.
"Just cover it with a Band-Aid and kiss me again," she says, hands finding his shoulders and legs parting for him to stand between.
He chuckles at her and sets his hands on her thighs. "That the cure?" She nods, so he shakes his head. She's really fucking cute. "All right."
He does what he tells her to. The Band-Aid takes three seconds to apply and then they kiss in her room for like, an hour until his mom comes home.
When his mom is inspecting the wound (which is really practically nothing), Rachel glances at him over his mom's shoulder and says, "I'm really okay. Noah took care of me," and he's almost positive he's not supposed to want her as badly as he does because of that.
... ... ...
She wakes up and the house is quiet, which is usually the way she wakes up. Hannah is probably still in bed, and Noah and Aviva have definitely already left for work. She's gotten so used to the noise in the morning that she rarely even notices it anymore. She stretches in her bed, pulls her tank top up so she can see that her bandage is still in place and she hasn't bled through it. Honestly, this family takes little cuts very seriously. Noah tried to tell her it's just because she's a guest and his mom doesn't want to send her back to her dads all banged up. She doesn't know if that's true, but it could be.
She kicks back the sheets because it's far too warm beneath them now that she's awake, and checks the time on her phone. It's barely 9:00, which means that it's 6:00 in L.A., but she's thinking about Noah kissing her by the creek like some kind of country song cliché, and then pressing himself against her on this very bed after they got back to the house, and she needs to talk to her best friend about this.
"What the fuck, Berry. If you're not bleeding, I'm going to punch you."
Rachel laughs. It's kind of funny that Santana would say that.
"I'm kind of bleeding, but I mostly just wanted to talk to you," she explains.
"Seriously?"
"I got a cut when I was making out with Noah yesterday."
She hears rustling and then Santana says, "Sweets, it's not supposed to be that rough." Rachel knows Santana is awake now, if she's making sex jokes. "You made out with him?"
"Mhm. It was kind of random."
"Good?"
"Better than anyone else I've kissed," Rachel admits. "He's...Yeah."
She's totally blushing just talking about it, which is just silly. First of all, she knows details about Santana's sex life that no one but Santana has any business knowing. The girl is not shy, and Rachel can tell her anything. She held back a lot of the details of her and Finn's sex life, but that was mostly because it wasn't all that great at first and she didn't want to embarrass Finn or anything like that. Santana has the tendency to be really cruel, and Finn didn't deserve that just because he wasn't yet all that experienced.
Anyway.
"How far 'd'you let it go?"
"Not that far. Clothes on," Rachel is quick to say. "He's just...He's so hot, Santana."
They both laugh and Rachel hasn't missed Santana this summer as much as she misses her right now.
"So you actually like him."
Rachel thinks about it for a second, but the answer was pretty much instant. Yes, she likes him. Quite a lot. She doesn't know quite how she went from disliking him so much in the beginning to wanting him so badly now, but there's probably some lesson in there about judging books by their covers. She didn't want to like anyone, so she didn't give them a chance until she was forced to.
"Yes, I do," she says. "Which is just really stupid, because I'm only here until the end of August."
"So?" Santana asks as if that's really not a problem. "It's called a fling, Rachel. Most normal people have one or two of them in their lives."
"It's just that he's...I don't know. It's too soon to even be telling you about this, probably," Rachel says. She plays idly with the drawstring of her sleep shorts as she sits back against her headboard. "He might not even...Maybe he doesn't want anything."
Santana scoffs. "Well, he wants sex," she states like a fact. "And you should want it too."
Rachel bites her lip and closes her eyes, thinks of yesterday and how he said her name when they were in her room and she angled her hips against his, how he tugged his fingers through her hair and how he felt, lying on top of her with his shirt off.
"I do want it," she admits, eyes shut tight. You don't admit things like that to Santana unless you want what comes next, which is the girl riding you about it until you actually do it.
"Good." She can hear Santana smirking. "Get laid. I'm going back to sleep."
The line goes dead and Rachel sets her phone on her bedside table just in time for Hannah to come running down the stairs in her pajamas, asking if Rachel wants some Capn' Crunch, too.
She spends too much of her day thinking about him. It's really stupid. It's not like she spent no time thinking about him before, but she can't seem to make herself stop now. She and Hannah play in the sprinkler because it's fun and the temperature is high. They jump on the trampoline and then Hannah says she would like some lunch, so Rachel makes them sandwiches and they have popsicles for dessert.
Noah walks in around 2:00, sweaty and red in the face, and Rachel is immediately worried and gets him a cold bottle of water. Hannah runs a cloth under cold water and hands it to him, though he says he's fine and they're crazy for treating him like he's dying.
He goes for a shower and Rachel sets Hannah up in the living room with a DVD, then heads upstairs when she hears the water shut off. She's in his room when he walks in wearing only a pair of boxers. She blushes, but he doesn't seem too affected at all.
"Hey," he says, smiling at her. He grabs a pair of shorts off the pile in the basket next to his dresser.
"Feeling better?"
"Yeah. Hot out."
"I know. Hannah and I played in the sprinkler to keep cool," she explains.
He leaves his shorts undone and walks towards her. "Should have waited for me." She laughs at how ridiculous that is. He puts his hands on her hips. "I thought about you all fucking day."
It really makes her feel better.
"Really?" she asks. She's not trying to smile like this. He notices too. Well, that or he just felt like brushing his thumb along her bottom lip that way.
"It's annoying," he says. She laughs and slips her arms around his waist, presses her cheek against his chest. She's wondering if he told Sam, though it really doesn't matter. "Hannah busy?"
"She's 10. How busy can she be?" Rachel laughs.
She thinks he'll join in, or at least make fun of her somehow, but all he does is slide his hand over her cheek and into her hair, tip her head back and kiss her more softly than she'd ever expect.
"Just wanna know if I can do this." He's teasing at her lips and all she can do is let him. "Without her interrupting."
They stand there in his bedroom kissing for 10 minutes, until Hannah calls up and asks what they're doing. Noah laughs at Rachel and goes downstairs first because she's too dazed to make her feet move right away.
She knows he knows exactly how good he is at that and it's not nearly as annoying as it should be.
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: AU (affectionately referred to as Country Boy!Puck): Her fathers' logic for this whole thing is stupid, too. They say she's adult enough to not have them for a whole summer, but they insist she not stay at home alone. How does that make any sense at all?
Word Count: 24,800 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Aviva goes out with Sam's mother for a shopping day and leaves Rachel with her car keys, tells her there's a full tank of gas and she should go out and explore, get out of the house so she's not so cooped up.
Frankly, she takes Aviva up on the offer just so she can take advantage of the car's air conditioning.
She drives slowly down the gravel road, and she doesn't care that there's someone behind her because there's also a tractor in front of her and the road isn't wide enough to pass anyone, so she just keeps her distance behind the huge green piece of machinery in front of her and checks in her rear view to keep an eye on the man in the truck. He doesn't seem too annoyed. She's sure this is a fairly common occurrence considering they're completely surrounded by tobacco fields.
When she gets to town, she drives along Main Street (yes, it is called that) and sees the shops there. Predictably, there's a butcher, a general store, a grocer and a post office. There's also a little boutique she doesn't think anyone's stepped foot in in about 40 years, a gas station, and the newspaper's office.
That's about it.
She knows there's a diner at the end of Main Street, because Hannah told her sometimes Noah takes her there for banana splits. Of course he does. (She thinks he's a better sibling than he likes to let on.)
She could use something to drink, so she stops in at the convenience store and buys herself a Diet Coke. The boy at the counter is about 16 and eyes her like he's trying to figure out if he's seen her before. She doesn't tell him one way or another, just says thank you and drops her change into the little tip jar sitting on the counter. She can feel his eyes on her as she leaves, and she doesn't know if he'd just do that anyway, or if it's because her black dress with white polkadots is a halter and the ties fall midway down her back between her shoulder blades.
And now she's out of ideas as to what to do. She does have a good sense of direction, though.
When she gets back into her car, one of her favourite Pink songs is on the radio, so she cranks the volume up higher and keeps driving on Main Street until she's no longer technically in town.
She passes the driving range, which looks like it's seen better days. The parking lot is full, though, so she's thinking it's probably one of the more popular spots in town. She passes farms and farmland. There's a little bungalow close to the road and two little blonde kids jumping on a trampoline in the yard. They wave at her as she drives past, and she waves back because they're quite cute, really.
She sees a familiar looking truck driving in her direction. She doesn't know why Noah would be out this way when he was supposed to be working today, but then she checks the clock on the dash and sees that he probably finished about an hour ago. He doesn't always come home straight after work, but most days he does, comes home and heads straight for the shower.
He raises his hand off the steering wheel as they pass one another. She almost feels embarrassed or nervous or something, which is just completely irrational.
She drives until she hits the next town, which is even smaller than the one she's been closest to these past couple weeks. As she pulls into a parking lot so she can turn around, a very cute boy her age walking down the sidewalk stares at her like he's never seen anything like her before.
She's not stupid. She knows she's pretty. She had a boyfriend who told her all the time, and Santana's always telling her how hot she is, how they wouldn't be friends if she wasn't. She knows how boys look at her. That was one of the many reasons she and Finn broke up; she liked the attention and he hated that she got it, thought she should only want him looking at her. But really, who wouldn't want to know people find them attractive? And besides, girls looked at Finn all the time. He was quarterback and so, so talented in almost everything he did. He was just a little too clueless to notice them looking and too humble and a little on the shy side, so he didn't believe her when she told him that the cheerleaders for the team he was playing against were staring at his ass in his football pants.
Anyway.
She doesn't mind this boy in his faded jeans and (honest to god) cowboy boots smiling at her like he is.
It's not like she's desperate or anything. She and Finn dated for two solid years and he was always, always enough for her. He was her first everything. First kiss, first love, first time. She still loves him, parts of him, and probably always will. She may not be with him anymore, and she doesn't want to be with him anymore, but she does miss certain things about him.
She didn't tell him she was leaving, so when she gets back to the house and she's reading in her room, she's not totally surprised to see a text from him come through on her phone.
Where are you? Went to the house today and no one home.
No one is home here, either. She figured Noah had come back here, but he mustn't have. She knows Aviva will be home soon.
Summer vacation.
That's all she writes back, because she knows well enough that if they keep talking, she'll just get sucked in again, even if she has no intentions of being with him. It's so easy with him, so comfortable.
That sucks! Well, for me. Miss you.
He doesn't miss her. Not like he's letting on, anyway.
She can't focus on her book anymore, and she wants to help out around the house, so she starts making something for dinner and sweeps the kitchen, runs a vacuum over the living room floor and dusts the furniture in all of the downstairs of the house.
Aviva and Hannah walk in and Noah is close behind. They spend the evening after dinner in the living room watching a movie.
Noah says, "Suck up," when his mom isn't paying attention. Yes, the woman praised her earlier for helping out with the housework. Really, it's the least she can do. "What were you doing today?"
She shrugs. "Nothing, really. I was sick of being cooped up in the house."
He nods like he understands. "We'll do something tomorrow night," he says.
"Like what?" she asks. She's kind of excited, to be honest.
"Dunno. I'll think of something."
He grins at her and she smiles back. That grin could be really misleading, because it's kind of flirtatious, but he wouldn't flirt with her with his mother in the room, would he?
... ... ...
He spins his keys on his finger after dinner and Rachel dries her hands on a towel. It was her turn to wash dishes, and his mom said that since the kids had plans or whatever, they could just leave them on the rack to dry. He didn't get out of his 'chore' either. It just didn't take him as long to wash his mom's car as it did for Rachel to do the dishes, which, if you ask him, is totally messed up.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Should I change?" She looks down at herself and his eyes skim over her.
Frankly, he's liking the denim shorts she's wearing and the loose flowery top with the zipper all the way up the front. So no, she shouldn't change.
"Nah. We're not doin' anything big anyway," he explains.
He doesn't really know what they're doing. He's hoping she'll be game to just ride around in his truck for a while.
When they step outside and are walking towards his truck, she's got this little smile on her face and he thinks it's kind of pretty on her, actually.
"What?" he asks.
"Nothing," she insists. "It just feels cooler."
He laughs again. "'S'the breeze," he tells her. "Still hot as fuck."
"Yes, well, my shirt isn't sticking to me, so I like the breeze." He laughs at her and she pulls the door to his truck open, climbs inside and clips her seat belt on. "So what is your plan?"
"Don't have one."
"Really?"
He shrugs and starts the engine. "Really. There's not much to do."
"I know," she says, body angled towards his as he pulls out onto the dirt road. "I just kind of thought maybe someone who's lived here his whole life might know some secrets."
He raises his brow and glances at her. "I know secrets. Locals just don't like to share them with snotty city girls."
"Hey!" she cries. She's laughing, which is cute. "I'm not that snotty, and I'm not even from a city."
"Compared to this?" He's got her there and he knows it.
"Well, I know I'm not as snotty as that Quinn girl," she says. He tenses a little, because he knows she's going to ask about his relationship with Quinn and he fucking hates talking about it. "I just can't see you dating her."
Not what he expected.
"Why not?"
"Because," she says, shrugging one shoulder. "She seems kind of mean."
"I'm kind of mean."
"No, you're not," she insists quietly.
She sounds like she actually believes that. He likes that she does, kind of.
"Whatever. Q and I were fucked up. Basically we were popular and in high school that means you should date," he explains. It's mostly the truth. "Her god-fearin' parents hated me 'cause I'm Jewish and I took her virginity when she was 16."
There's a long pause, then she says a quiet, "Oh," and he looks at her. "No, I'm not judging. I just didn't expect that kind of honesty."
Well, he's not a liar and he's got nothing to hide. His relationship with Quinn isn't like, some kind of sacred topic he won't talk about, it's just over and he doesn't care anymore. Quinn likes to think he's still hers somehow, probably because she's really the first and only girl he ever actually had a relationship with. But it's bullshit, 'cause the breakup was messy and she actually said the words, 'I hate you', and most days he thinks she meant them.
"What about you?" he asks, turning onto the main road. He's not going to town, taking her in the opposite direction. She doesn't ask questions, and he likes that.
"God," she says, laughing a little. "Dated a boy for two years."
"The same one?" he asks, eyes wide. Shit. Two years?
"Yes," she giggles. "Finn. We started dating at the end of sophomore year."
"Why'd you break up?"
"Depending on who you talk to, a lot of reasons, or no reason at all." He doesn't really get that and she must be able to sense it. "I think he still believes we could make it work. It's a sweet sentiment, but it's kind of bullshit, too." He laughs at her swearing, just because he's never heard her do it before. "He's great, but he's not right for me anymore. We kind of just grew up, you know?"
"Yeah," he says quietly.
She turns up the radio and they don't talk for a while, until he steers the truck into a field on an access road that's covered over by grass and she grips the edge of the seat with one hand and the handle above the door with the other.
"Noah."
"Relax," he laughs.
She doesn't, but he knows what he's doing.
This is one of his favourite spots, but he doesn't come down here very often anymore. Quinn hated it and he doesn't like to share the secret with anyone. Rachel's not sticking around, so he doesn't care if she knows. Plus, he didn't just want to take her to the pool hall to hang out, or go to a movie or something dumb like that. There's a lot more to North Carolina than just tobacco fields and tiny towns. Some of the hidden stuff is the best stuff.
He stops in front of a tree line and cuts the engine, but leaves the keys in the ignition. He knows who owns this land and their house is a few miles away. They also don't care if he's on their property as long as he doesn't mess around here.
"C'mon," he says, pushing his door open. She climbs down out of the truck and walks in front of it.
"Where are we?" she asks, looking around.
He walks along the tree line until he gets to the little opening he's looking for, then turns and smiles at her. "Just come here and I'll show you."
He doesn't really know why he grabs her by the hand, but he does it and she lets him, so he doesn't think too hard on it. He pulls her through the clearing and down the little path. He starts being able to hear the water before they really get there, and she tightens her hold on his hand. Either she's scared or just can't wait to see what he's showing her.
The clearing is one of the coolest things, because it's all flat rock until the edge of the creek. The creek itself is only about 10 feet wide, but at this one part, the flat rock is about 20 feet and goes on for about 40. It's kind of a weird little spot and he's never seen anything like it. He doesn't even remember how he found this place.
"It's really pretty," she says softly, still holding his hand. He strokes his thumb over hers a little bit.
"Wait 'til it gets dark."
"Are we staying that long?" she asks, looking up at him with wide eyes.
He chuckles. "You got anywhere else to be?"
She smiles at him and then narrows her eyes playfully, takes her hand away from his and walks to the edge of the rock. He's not too worried about her falling in or anything, 'cause it's not like there's much of a current and the water's clean and clear and probably about 80 degrees at this time of year. And a little part of him thinks it'd be at least a bit funny if she did fall in. He's not gonna tell her that, though.
"There's a fish in here!"
He laughs at her and walks over. "Lots of them, actually," he tells her. She's so city, even if she says she's not.
"My fathers aren't exactly the outdoorsy types," she says laughingly. "Their idea of roughing it is to rent a cottage on Lake Michigan."
He lets out a little laugh, looks down to his feet. His idea of roughing it is a sleeping bag and a patch of grass. He'd offer to take her, but he's pretty sure she'd say no anyway.
And because he's starting to feel like they're opening up too much or something, he needs to do something to make this fun again and less heavy.
So he readies his arms to catch her, then knees her in the ass. He's got his arms around her before she can fall in the water, but she screams anyway and kicks her legs, shouts his name as he pulls her back from the edge. She spins around and shoves at his chest hard as he laughs his ass off at her.
She's actually kind of a cool girl now that she's not sulking all the time and he's mostly gotten over the fact that she's living in his basement. It doesn't really feel like she's messing up his summer. She's just kind of becoming part of it.
She eventually lies down on the rock and looks up at the sky after the sun has gone down. She asks him to lie down next to her, and lord knows why he does. Her hand touches his for a second before she moves it away, and then she says, "Thanks for bringing me here, Noah."
He doesn't really respond to that, just says, "You got a thing for stars, right?" and watches her smile in the moonlight.
... ... ...
She's in her room listening to music and reading when he comes down the stairs Saturday afternoon without knocking. The door was open and she's clearly dressed, but still.
"Sam's having a few people over tonight if you wanna come," he says, standing at the foot of her bed.
She smiles and nods. "Sure," she says.
"What are you reading?"
"Honestly, I don't even know why I'm reading it," she says, laughing and closing the tattered book. "I've read it so many times."
"What's it about?" he asks.
So she tells him all about Paper Towns and he seems genuinely interested, sits on her bed leaning back on his elbows and hangs out in her room until his mom calls and asks for his help bringing in groceries. He rolls his eyes and gets up. She thinks it's strange how he does that, makes it seem like he's some lazy teenager when he really works all day and helps his mom out however he can.
He's a good guy. Part of her wishes he'd stop pretending he's not.
"7:00," he says. She nods and starts thinking about what to wear.
She helps Aviva with dinner, chops mushrooms and onions to garnish the steaks Noah seems far too eager to barbecue. He's got a 'secret technique', he says. He tries to tempt her into eating one, but her stomach rolls at just the thought, and he makes fun of her for saying that. It's going to take more than a cute boy and a secret barbecue sauce or whatever to give up her vegetarianism. She prepares a salad and helps Hannah set the table. She likes fitting in here, because she honestly doubted that she would.
After dinner, she goes back to her room and closes the door, listens to some music and tries to pick which dress to wear. Yes, she's wearing a dress. It's hot and humid and she cannot honestly bear another night outside with anything at all on her arms. She picks a green one with white piping and skinny straps, lines her eyes a little more than she normally would and pulls her hair up, pins it in place so it's off her back.
At 7:00 exactly, she heads back upstairs and sees Noah in the kitchen drinking from a glass of water and talking to his mom. He looks her up and down once, then twice, and says, "Okay," like he's confused about something.
He tells Aviva they'll be back later, but doesn't specify a time. Rachel's learned that when he goes to Sam's place, he really doesn't have to be too detailed when he explains his plans to his mother.
Once they're outside and she's pulling the door closed behind her, she nervously asks, "Do I not look okay?"
He turns to face her and looks at her like she's stupid. "You look fine. You do realize we're just going to Sam's, right?"
She looks down at herself and steps down off the porch. "Fine?"
She sees him roll his eyes and smile. "You look great. Jesus. Why do girls always do that?"
And she'd tell him not to generalize like that, but she's a little more concerned with the fact that he's walked past his truck and is now heading for the road. "Noah."
He chuckles like he knew she was going to do this. "It's only about a mile."
"A mile?"
He walks backwards and smirks at her. "Think you can handle it?"
He's challenging her, and he's only known her two and a half weeks, so he really can't know that she can never back down from a challenge. She catches up to him easily, though running in flip flops is no easy task. She thinks about asking him if she can go change her footwear, but he'll probably ridicule her endlessly and she's not up for that.
"How come I never hear you sing?"
She's a little caught off guard by the question. "You're not home during the day," she explains. "I practice then. I don't want to bother anyone." He nods like that makes sense, swings his arms by his sides and matches his steps to hers so he's not walking ahead of her. "How come I never hear you play guitar? I know you do. Your mom told me."
He shrugs his shoulder and stares straight ahead. "A little."
"A little?"
"It's not really a big thing. I just mess around sometimes." She watches his face and he's practically insistent on not looking at her. "It's not like it's gonna give me any kind of future."
It's not an insult - she knows that - but it still feels like one. She's going to school for music and it's her passion, and he's not telling her that no one can have a future in music, but the way he just said that makes her think there's a part of him that feels that way.
"You don't know that," she says.
"It's not what I'm passionate about or anything, really," he says. "I like it, but it's not like, everything to me."
He nudges her with his elbow, so she smiles. "What are you passionate about?"
He shrugs again. "Dunno. Isn't college for figuring that shit out?"
She supposes he has a point there.
They talk for the rest of the walk. He points out houses off in the distance that belong to people she doesn't know. He kicks at stones on the gravel road and she resists the urge to smell all the wild flowers growing along the fence line. He tells her where the Evans' farmland starts, points out the house and tells her they're almost there. They're certainly not in any big rush. They're just kind of strolling along and taking their time. It doesn't annoy her like she thought maybe it would. It feels nice to just slow down and relax and not push everything so hard all the time.
She's not telling anyone she feels that way.
As they walk up the Evans' long driveway, Noah catches her looking at the sprawling farm, big outbuildings and tractors parked nearby.
"You wanna see the horses?" he asks.
She bites her lip, smiles and nods her head. "Yeah."
"Come on." He jerks his head in bit the direction of the old wood barn and she follows him towards it. He slides open the big wooden door and she hears the horses inside. He leads her past a few stalls, then opens the gate to one and steps in. "This is Meredith." Rachel giggles. "Yeah, Sam's little sister named her. There's also a Colton."
"Very appropriate," Rachel says as she looks at this huge animal in front of her.
"She's my favourite. Aren't you, girl?"
Rachel watches him run his hand down the horse's side and pat her a couple times. "You're good with her."
He shrugs. "Horses are easy." Meredith whinnies and takes a few steps sideways towards him. "You can touch her. She won't spook."
She reaches out carefully and sets her hand above the horse's nose, just below her eyes. Rachel rubs her hand up and down a few times, and Meredith's ears twitch. It makes Rachel smile. This is oddly calming, being near an animal this big, but this relaxed.
"You've never seen a horse before, have you?" he asks knowingly, a grin on his lips.
She shakes her head. "No. Not like this," she admits. "She's beautiful."
"Yeah," he says quietly, petting the horse again. They stand there for a few moments, just the three of them in the quiet, then Noah turns to her and smiles a bit. "Come on."
She just kind of trusts him whenever he says that. She wonders if she should question why. Then again he keeps taking her to see and do kind of wonderful things, so why shouldn't she trust him?
The Evans' house is a big white two-storey farmhouse with a screened in porch and flowers lining the walkway. Noah is obviously comfortable here; he pushes the door open and walks inside without knocking, kicks off his shoes and leads her through to the kitchen.
When he said 'some people' she assumed there would be more than just Sam and Matt here. They have cans of Coke in front of them, and poker chips and a deck of cards out. Neither of them looks surprised to see her. In fact, Sam says, "You look pretty," and she blushes as Noah kicks out the chair next to his for her to sit in.
"You play?" he asks before she can thank Sam.
"Not really."
"You're about to shark us," Noah says, laughing.
"No," she giggles. "I've only played twice. One time I was drunk, and the other time everyone else was."
The guys all laugh and Sam deals her in.
This is fun. They trash talk one another, the boys do, and she laughs along with them and tries to hold her own and fails miserably. They take pity on her and even after she's lost all her chips, they each give her some of theirs so she can keep playing. Sam is by far the best at the table, but Noah is very good, too. He also keeps refilling her water glass for her every time he gets up for anything, and once, he slides his hand along her back as he's sitting down again.
Her phone rings just after another hand is dealt, so she answers, laughing, and Santana asks, "Where the hell are you?"
"Sam's."
"Sam's?"
"With Noah." He tosses her blind in for her. "Matt is here, too," she feels the need to add. "We're playing poker. I'm awful."
"Yeah, babe, I know," Santana laughs. "Why are you hanging out with the boys?"
Rachel thinks about it for a minute. "I don't know."
Santana laughs. "Well, are you fucking any of them?"
Rachel rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "No," she answers. Noah leans over and peeks at her cards, raises Sam's bet. She was going to fold, and she's not upset with him helping her. The other guys don't seem to mind either. "Are you...doing that with anyone?" They both laugh. Of course she is. "Who?"
"Just this guy. He's kind of stupidly hot. He's like, an actor or something. Actually, if you were here he'd probably pick you instead of me. He sings or whatever."
"Really?"
"He's basically you, with a dick."
Rachel giggles and Noah tosses more of her chips in the middle of the table after Sam sets three cards on the table. "That's disturbing."
"Yeah, kind of," Santana admits. "Whatever. Jesse's hot and so conceited it's really easy to hate him. Totally my type."
Rachel shakes her head and Noah folds his cards, but tosses more of her chips into the pot, and she's a little worried as to what on earth he's doing, because all she has is a pair of fours and a king.
"I have to go," she says. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Don't worry," Santana laughs. "I won't fuck up next year by getting pregnant."
They both giggle, but honestly, the last night they spent together before Santana left, it was the only pact they made for the summer. Neither of them was allowed to do anything do jeopardize their first year together in New York.
And they talk all the time, at least once every couple days. Santana knows about Noah, Sam and Matt, knows about the other night with Noah at that creek and everything. Rachel doesn't know why Santana didn't mention this guy she's sleeping with, but she knows Santana. Boys are disposable items, and summer flings are practically a just a direct line to sex without really having to work too hard for it. Or be in a relationship.
She ends her call and sets her phone on the table again just as Noah says, "She raises," and pushes more chips towards the pot.
She'd say his name, but he's probably doing that bluffing thing, and she can see that Matt's trying hard to read both of them. He's the only one left in this hand. He calls her, then Noah tells him to check, and Matt has basically nothing. He's got a four, five, six, seven, so it's obvious he was going for a straight, then just tried to out bluff her. Or Noah. Whatever. The point is, she wins.
And clearly none of them know how she deals with victory, because Noah calls her fucking insane and Sam laughs and Matt just shakes his head when she dances in her seat and sweeps her chips towards her and says, "I win, I win, I win," in a sing-songy voice.
"I kinda won for you," Noah says, and she shrugs her shoulder and starts stacking her chips by colour.
"The cards were dealt to me."
"I played them. You were on the phone."
She leans over so she's really right in his face and asks, "Jealous?" and sweeps her hand over the piles in front of her. It's silly because she's got nowhere near as many chips as him, so he just laughs in her face and pushes her shoulder until she's back in her own seat again.
At the end of the night, Matt asks them if they want a ride home, and Noah looks at her like he doesn't care one way or another and it's all up to her. She decides she likes the walk.
It's late and dark, but he stays close to her and the night is clear, the moon high in the sky. There are noises and bugs and she still swears she's never heard so much silence.
He's not talking, so she's thinking about what Santana asked her earlier. Why was she with the boys? Why did Noah want her there for his poker game? The other boys didn't mind that she'd tagged along, so has he talked to them about her like she's talked to Santana about him? And what has he said?
"Why did you bring me tonight?" she asks when they're halfway home. He's bending down every so often to pick up pieces of gravel, then lob them down the road.
"What do you mean?"
She rolls her eyes. "I mean, why did you bring me to your boys' night?"
He shrugs his shoulder and tosses a stone. It clangs off something in the distance and she looks over to see him smiling. He's been aiming for a road sign she can't even see in this kind of darkness. That scares her. What else can't she see?
"Noah," she prods, when it becomes apparent he's not going to answer.
"I dunno," he says, like she's exhausting. "I like hanging out with you." She smiles and he bends down for more rocks. She hears him drop them from one hand into the other. "You're a sweetheart."
Her stomach is full of butterflies and she really hopes his eyesight isn't good enough that he can see her blushing, because she most definitely is. She could thank him, but he'd just brush it off.
"You're full of surprises, you know that?" she says instead, watching him as they walk.
He throws a rock hard, it hits the sign again, and he smirks at her.
"You ain't seen nothin' yet."
She lies awake in her bed thinking of all the possible ways he could have meant that, and honestly, she can't find one that is in any way bad.
... ... ...
She's on her phone a lot. If she's not talking to one or both of her dads, she's talking to her best friend, so sometimes it feels like she never shuts the hell up long enough to really do anything at all. It's not true, obviously, but sometimes he can hear her in her room when he's in other parts of the house, and he wants to tell her to get some sunlight and come out of the cave.
He's in the kitchen for coffee and breakfast on a day when his mom works and he doesn't. Hannah's in bed and Rachel's downstairs. He can hear her on the phone, and he'd rolled his eyes when he walked downstairs and heard her talking to someone. He's not eavesdropping or anything, but he can hear her voice and the way she's talking, and it's different.
Then he hears her sigh and say, "Finn, you can't just say that to me." And yeah, now he's eavesdropping. "Because we broke up." He sips his coffee and wonders what's really going on, and he swears he's usually not this nosy. "You can't...Don't call me again, okay? You're making me feel really terrible."
He hears her footsteps coming up the stairs a few minutes later, and she's swiping at her cheeks when she steps into the kitchen.
"Hey," he says gently, because she's obviously upset and he doesn't want to make it worse.
"I forgot you were here."
"Yeah." She turns away from him and sniffles a bit. "Hey, you okay?"
"I'm fine," she promises, flashing him the worst fake smile he's ever seen. "I'm fine. My ex-boyfriend just told me that he's still in love with me and that my being away and us being broken up has made him completely miserable. I'm fine."
She said all that really fast, and her eyes are all shiny and he knows she's going to start crying any second. He can't handle crying women. He always feels the need to make them stop, do whatever he can. His mom says it's because he spent so much time helping take care of Hannah when she was a baby.
"Rachel."
"Don't," she snaps, but he doesn't care. He puts his arms around her whether she wants it or not. It's really fucking weird to think he's never really touched her much at all, that this is the first time they've ever actually hugged. "Noah, don't."
So he's careful with her, and after a few moments, she actually wraps her arms around him and kind of presses her face against his chest. She's all soft and little and warm, and yeah, he's into it. Her hands tug at the shirt at his back, which throws him for a moment until he realizes she just wants something to hold onto. She takes a big, deep breath, lets it out slowly and pulls herself away from him.
"Better?" he asks. And maybe he's cocky about it, but who cares?
She peers up at him from under her wet lashes, her hands still on his hips. "You give really good hugs."
"I know." She laughs a little, looks away from him. "Don't let that guy make you feel guilty for ending it."
Yeah, he's kind of speaking from experience on that one. Tries two and three with Quinn never should have happened, and never would have if not for her telling him he owed it to her to try a little harder. Whatever that means.
"I don't want him to be miserable," she says. She walks away and sits down at the table, and he pours her a cup of coffee. "But he can't blame all that on me, either."
"No," he says. He shrugs his shoulder again, sits down across from her. "But he's gonna anyway."
She takes a deep breath and huffs it out like she's trying really hard to get over this but she's still pissed. She takes a long sip of hot coffee and sets her mug down on the table. "Can we do something?" she asks, looking up at him again. "I really just...You're good at forcing me to take my mind off things."
He smirks. He can't help it. He's kind of thinking about how blank her mind would be if...
"Yeah," he says before that train of thought can get too far. He doesn't have a lot of shame, but he tries not to fantasize about girls while they're still right there in front of him. "What do you want to do?"
"The creek?" she asks hopefully.
She goes to change, and he grabs a couple towels just in case and tosses a few bottles of water into his backpack, along with some snacks. She comes up the stairs in a pair of denim shorts, a white tee shirt with a V neck, and a bright pink bikini underneath.
She puts her feet up on the dash of his truck as they drive, and he thinks she probably spends some time in the yard when he's at work, because she's more tanned now than she was when she first showed up. Not that she's been here long. He doesn't know how he feels about that, knowing she's here the entire rest of the summer. He likes her more than he probably should already. He was supposed to hate her and everything and it turns out she's this sweet girl he likes hanging out with. And she's completely fucking hot, too, which makes things even more confusing.
Not so much confusing, actually. She hops down out of the truck with no problems, and with her hair down like that and those tiny little shorts on, she looks every bit the country girl she isn't. He likes it. Then again, he thinks she'd be sexy no matter what look she was going for.
She takes his hand this time, so he can lead her through the little clearing and help her down over the rocks. The last thing he needs is her twisting her ankle out here or something.
"I really love it out here," she says. She makes it sound like some kind of a secret, even though they're the only two around for a good mile or two anyway. "Can I put my feet in?"
He laughs at her and tugs his shirt off over his head. "Go nuts."
She hesitates, though, and chews on her bottom lip a little, glancing at the creek. "The fish won't bite?"
He tries not to laugh at her again because he knows she doesn't know, but it's still really funny. "They're just bluegills," he says, then realizes she won't know what that means either. "They won't bite."
She pulls off her shirt, too, (fuck) and lowers herself down so she's sitting at the edge of the rocks with her toes dipped in. He watches her test the water and then push her feet in all the way so the water comes up to just the middle of her calf. She looks at him over her shoulder, squinting against the sun. "Don't push me in," she warns him.
He sits down next to her and dips his feet into the water. "I'm not gonna push you."
She lies back beside him and stretches her arms over her head. It doesn't really matter that he's got sunglasses on; she'll know he's looking at her anyway. Whatever. She's not wearing a shirt and she's right next to him, so yeah, he's gonna check her out.
"Stop," she laughs, reaching over to hit his hip. He chuckles along with her and leans back on his elbows. But no, he doesn't really take his eyes off her. "What?"
"Nothing." He kicks his feet a little in the water, but not enough to splash. "You're pretty."
She just stares at him for a few seconds, then she gives him this little smile, takes a deep breath and shakes her head. "That's not the word I thought you were going to use," she admits.
He laughs again (it should be weird that he has this much fun with her) and then looks straight ahead. "It's not really the one I was thinkin'," he admits. He gives her a smirk. "'S'true, though."
She chews on her bottom lip, then adjusts her shorts at her hips. Yeah, not hot at all. "Which one were you thinking?"
"There're a few. They're all good."
She wears this pretty smile for a few moments, then looks away and they just lay there in the quiet for a while.
He's not the kind of guy who always needs to be doing something. He works hard and helps out at home, so when he gets time to just lay around and do nothing, he likes to take advantage of that. He just usually does it alone. Yeah, he'll hang out with his boys and do whatever, but he likes the quiet and not having a timeline or a schedule or anyone telling him what he has to do next. Rachel doesn't strike him as the kind of girl who likes that, but then she'll just lay here like this, or she'll walk down a dirt road late at night and she proves him wrong. And he thinks that maybe she's not into this kind of thing, she just knows that's what you do around here and she's taking advantage of it. Because lord knows the girl likes to talk, and from what he knows of her she's been in every school club and dance class she could possibly be in from the time she was like, three.
So maybe she's due for some days like this.
"I'm going to fall asleep," she admits. She does sound tired. It's cute.
"Don't do that."
"Talk to me, then." She sounds like she's about to laugh. He doesn't know at what. She's weird that way.
"About what?" he asks. He turns his head and she's just looking at him. There's about a foot of space between them right now.
"I don't know. Anything."
And he doesn't much feel like talking, and he really likes the way she looks right now, so he leans up on one elbow so he's kind of hovering over her, and pulls her sunglasses off her face before doing the same with his. Her eyes are wide like she knows what he's going to do. He gives her a second to tell him she doesn't want it, but she doesn't say a word, so he grins a little and she smiles up at him.
And when he kisses her, she lets out this tiny sound and puts her hand on his shoulder, so he moves a little closer until he's half on top of her. First kisses probably aren't supposed to be like this one, but he doesn't give a shit, because it feels so fucking good. His hand lands on her side and her skin is hot to the touch from the sunlight, and this is probably as uncomfortable for her as it is for him, since they're lying on rock, but when he tries to pull away and tell her they should move, she curves her hand around the back of his neck and drags him down towards her again.
So yeah, he's thinking he can handle the rocks.
"Noah," she whispers when he kisses along her jaw and moves his hand down so it's on her hip. The arm that's supporting him is going numb, but he doesn't give a shit. "God, you're really good at this."
He laughs against her skin and then his lips find hers again. When she opens her mouth for him, he can't help but moan, which makes her fingers dig into his skin. And yeah, this is good and...Well, way better than good. They've been kissing for less than five minutes and he's already having a hard time keeping his hand from wandering. He wants to touch every part of her, but he's not a jerk and he can wait. Maybe. Shit, she's sexy. Her skin is so smooth and when he moves his hand down over her thigh and grabs her right above the knee, she does exactly what he wants her to and moves so she's on her side facing him.
"Ow," she whimpers, so he pulls away to look at her. She's in pain. He fucking hates it. "Something's..." She reaches beneath her, so they're forced to move away from one another a bit. She pulls a jagged rock out from underneath her, and her hand comes up with a little blood on it.
"Shit."
"It's fine. I'm fine," she promises. Then he can see the wheels turning in her head and he knows she's freaking out. "Do you have a first aid kit in your truck?"
He doesn't mean to scoff at her, but it happens anyway. "No." He pushes her onto her back, then makes her lean over a bit so he can see the cut on her side better. It's about an inch long and it's trickling blood and she's looking at him over her shoulder. "C'mon. Let's go."
She laughs a bit. "I don't need an emergency room, Noah," she tells him.
He stands up and reaches his hands down to help her up. "I know that. Gotta clean it, though."
He's got no problems with blood, so he uses his hand to wipe away what's currently on her skin, then cleans his hand off in the water. He takes her hand again, but she's the one leading him back to his truck, and yeah, he takes a second to look at her ass, but he's mostly just worried about the cut bleeding on her side. It's not like it's a huge gash or anything. It's just a surface wound and it's not even close to needing stitches, but he doesn't like the way the blood looks on her skin. He keeps wiping it away with his tee shirt so it doesn't trickle down to her shorts. His shirt's from Target and came in a pack of five, so he's not all that concerned about it. He gives it to her when they get to the truck so she can hold it against the cut and try to stop the bleeding. By the time they're pulling into his driveway, the cut's just surrounded by dried blood, and he thinks that's grossing her out more than anything.
He gets her to sit on the bathroom counter and reaches for the iodine his mom keeps in the medicine cabinet, grabs a washcloth.
"Noah," she laughs, "you're treating me like I have a gunshot wound." She twists to the side to see the cut. "It's not that bad."
Except that when she moved, it opened again and he can see it starting to bleed. He pours the iodine over the cut without warning her (that's what his mom does; it's cruel, but not) and she practically screams and definitely hits him.
"Easy," he chuckles.
"That was really mean."
She has tears in her eyes. Damn.
But he just leans in and kisses her gently, because he can do that now. "Sorry." He uses the damp cloth to clean her up. "Mom'll lose her shit when she gets home."
Rachel laughs tearfully and wipes her eyes. "I'm fine."
"You're bleeding," he says, totally mocking her.
"Just cover it with a Band-Aid and kiss me again," she says, hands finding his shoulders and legs parting for him to stand between.
He chuckles at her and sets his hands on her thighs. "That the cure?" She nods, so he shakes his head. She's really fucking cute. "All right."
He does what he tells her to. The Band-Aid takes three seconds to apply and then they kiss in her room for like, an hour until his mom comes home.
When his mom is inspecting the wound (which is really practically nothing), Rachel glances at him over his mom's shoulder and says, "I'm really okay. Noah took care of me," and he's almost positive he's not supposed to want her as badly as he does because of that.
... ... ...
She wakes up and the house is quiet, which is usually the way she wakes up. Hannah is probably still in bed, and Noah and Aviva have definitely already left for work. She's gotten so used to the noise in the morning that she rarely even notices it anymore. She stretches in her bed, pulls her tank top up so she can see that her bandage is still in place and she hasn't bled through it. Honestly, this family takes little cuts very seriously. Noah tried to tell her it's just because she's a guest and his mom doesn't want to send her back to her dads all banged up. She doesn't know if that's true, but it could be.
She kicks back the sheets because it's far too warm beneath them now that she's awake, and checks the time on her phone. It's barely 9:00, which means that it's 6:00 in L.A., but she's thinking about Noah kissing her by the creek like some kind of country song cliché, and then pressing himself against her on this very bed after they got back to the house, and she needs to talk to her best friend about this.
"What the fuck, Berry. If you're not bleeding, I'm going to punch you."
Rachel laughs. It's kind of funny that Santana would say that.
"I'm kind of bleeding, but I mostly just wanted to talk to you," she explains.
"Seriously?"
"I got a cut when I was making out with Noah yesterday."
She hears rustling and then Santana says, "Sweets, it's not supposed to be that rough." Rachel knows Santana is awake now, if she's making sex jokes. "You made out with him?"
"Mhm. It was kind of random."
"Good?"
"Better than anyone else I've kissed," Rachel admits. "He's...Yeah."
She's totally blushing just talking about it, which is just silly. First of all, she knows details about Santana's sex life that no one but Santana has any business knowing. The girl is not shy, and Rachel can tell her anything. She held back a lot of the details of her and Finn's sex life, but that was mostly because it wasn't all that great at first and she didn't want to embarrass Finn or anything like that. Santana has the tendency to be really cruel, and Finn didn't deserve that just because he wasn't yet all that experienced.
Anyway.
"How far 'd'you let it go?"
"Not that far. Clothes on," Rachel is quick to say. "He's just...He's so hot, Santana."
They both laugh and Rachel hasn't missed Santana this summer as much as she misses her right now.
"So you actually like him."
Rachel thinks about it for a second, but the answer was pretty much instant. Yes, she likes him. Quite a lot. She doesn't know quite how she went from disliking him so much in the beginning to wanting him so badly now, but there's probably some lesson in there about judging books by their covers. She didn't want to like anyone, so she didn't give them a chance until she was forced to.
"Yes, I do," she says. "Which is just really stupid, because I'm only here until the end of August."
"So?" Santana asks as if that's really not a problem. "It's called a fling, Rachel. Most normal people have one or two of them in their lives."
"It's just that he's...I don't know. It's too soon to even be telling you about this, probably," Rachel says. She plays idly with the drawstring of her sleep shorts as she sits back against her headboard. "He might not even...Maybe he doesn't want anything."
Santana scoffs. "Well, he wants sex," she states like a fact. "And you should want it too."
Rachel bites her lip and closes her eyes, thinks of yesterday and how he said her name when they were in her room and she angled her hips against his, how he tugged his fingers through her hair and how he felt, lying on top of her with his shirt off.
"I do want it," she admits, eyes shut tight. You don't admit things like that to Santana unless you want what comes next, which is the girl riding you about it until you actually do it.
"Good." She can hear Santana smirking. "Get laid. I'm going back to sleep."
The line goes dead and Rachel sets her phone on her bedside table just in time for Hannah to come running down the stairs in her pajamas, asking if Rachel wants some Capn' Crunch, too.
She spends too much of her day thinking about him. It's really stupid. It's not like she spent no time thinking about him before, but she can't seem to make herself stop now. She and Hannah play in the sprinkler because it's fun and the temperature is high. They jump on the trampoline and then Hannah says she would like some lunch, so Rachel makes them sandwiches and they have popsicles for dessert.
Noah walks in around 2:00, sweaty and red in the face, and Rachel is immediately worried and gets him a cold bottle of water. Hannah runs a cloth under cold water and hands it to him, though he says he's fine and they're crazy for treating him like he's dying.
He goes for a shower and Rachel sets Hannah up in the living room with a DVD, then heads upstairs when she hears the water shut off. She's in his room when he walks in wearing only a pair of boxers. She blushes, but he doesn't seem too affected at all.
"Hey," he says, smiling at her. He grabs a pair of shorts off the pile in the basket next to his dresser.
"Feeling better?"
"Yeah. Hot out."
"I know. Hannah and I played in the sprinkler to keep cool," she explains.
He leaves his shorts undone and walks towards her. "Should have waited for me." She laughs at how ridiculous that is. He puts his hands on her hips. "I thought about you all fucking day."
It really makes her feel better.
"Really?" she asks. She's not trying to smile like this. He notices too. Well, that or he just felt like brushing his thumb along her bottom lip that way.
"It's annoying," he says. She laughs and slips her arms around his waist, presses her cheek against his chest. She's wondering if he told Sam, though it really doesn't matter. "Hannah busy?"
"She's 10. How busy can she be?" Rachel laughs.
She thinks he'll join in, or at least make fun of her somehow, but all he does is slide his hand over her cheek and into her hair, tip her head back and kiss her more softly than she'd ever expect.
"Just wanna know if I can do this." He's teasing at her lips and all she can do is let him. "Without her interrupting."
They stand there in his bedroom kissing for 10 minutes, until Hannah calls up and asks what they're doing. Noah laughs at Rachel and goes downstairs first because she's too dazed to make her feet move right away.
She knows he knows exactly how good he is at that and it's not nearly as annoying as it should be.