Chapter 4
All of Jamie’s attention was on him.
“Does he really not notice how close we are?”
About five minutes passed before Noah’s foot brushed against hers again.
He still seemed completely unaware of the contact, focused entirely on his work.
Jamie hesitated, not sure what to do — but then Noah stretched his neck and stood up.
“Thirsty? I’ll grab us something to drink. You want anything?”
“Something without caffeine, please.”
“Got it. I’ll be right back.”
He gave her a small, easy smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he left the lounge.
“Phew…”
Suddenly, exhaustion washed over her.
They’d only been sitting next to each other, but it felt like she’d just run a marathon.
His presence filled the room so completely that it was hard to breathe.
***
A Late Return
Almost an hour later, he came back.
He was holding a white paper bag stuffed with snacks.
“Sorry I took so long. The school café was closed, so I had to walk pretty far.”
He unpacked sandwiches and cookies onto the table, then handed her a strawberry milkshake.
“Oh, that’s my favorite! How did you know?”
“Really? Lucky guess. The clerk recommended it.”
She took a sip — the sweet flavor spread over her tongue.
Noah drank his iced tea and unwrapped a sandwich. Jamie picked up an oatmeal cookie.
For a while, only the quiet sounds of chewing filled the room.
Then Jamie broke the silence.
“So… when did you start playing football?”
“First time I threw a ball? I was seven.”
“Wow, that’s a long time. You must really love it.”
She stirred her drink with a straw as she spoke.
Usually, breaking down game footage was the assistant coach’s job,
but Noah meticulously recorded every play himself. His dedication said everything.
“What about you? When did you start diving?”
“You knew I was on the diving team?”
She looked up, startled.
“Yeah.”
“…I started for college credit. But now I do it for fun.”
“Do you still compete?”
“I used to, but I’ve been too busy studying lately.”
He leaned back in his chair, listening quietly, that faint half-smile still on his lips.
After a few seconds of silence, Jamie spoke again.
“You’re training for the State Championship again this year, right?”
At that, his expression darkened slightly.
“Yeah. Lost by three points last year. Still haunts me.”
Last winter, the Preachers (his team) had finished as runners-up in the Massachusetts state finals.
In the U.S., football was practically a religion, and even high school matches were intense.
Star quarterbacks like Noah were local celebrities — everyone in the area knew his name.
The day of the final, Jamie hadn’t gone to the stadium.
She’d been working a shift at a diner and watched the game live on TV instead.
It had been a brutal match.
The referees seemed biased, their main players got injured, and their defense kept falling apart.
“The Preachers’ defense isn’t helping their quarterback at all. You can feel Christensen’s frustration from here.”
Despite Noah’s efforts, they lost 42–39.
Noah’s jaw tightened as he chewed his sandwich. After a pause, he asked:
“Did you come to the game that day?”
Jamie gave an awkward grin and shook her head.
“I had to work. But I watched it live and cheered you on.”
“Then come to this year’s game,”
he said easily, as if making it to the finals again were a given.
That confidence made her curious.
“So what is it you love so much about football? I mean, from a player’s point of view.”
He answered without a second of hesitation.
“There’s no retreat. In football, the only direction is forward.”
And it was true — football was all about pushing, inch by inch, toward the opponent’s end zone.
That relentless drive was what made it so captivating in America.
Jamie nodded thoughtfully.
Noah lifted his iced tea and drank straight from the cup, his Adam’s apple moving rhythmically as he watched her —
the same focused intensity he had when chasing the ball on the field.
***
Locked In
After that, they focused on work, and time slipped by.
When Jamie checked the clock, it was already 7 p.m.
Outside, the sky had darkened, and she started to panic.
“I’m never going to finish this in two hours…”
Her eyes stung with fatigue; she’d studied late into the night before.
Soon, her head began to droop.
Noah noticed.
“Jamie, if you’re tired, lie down on that mat and rest a bit.”
“No, I’d rather just finish.”
“You’ll collapse if you keep that up.”
He was persistent. He promised to wake her when he was done so they could go back to the dorms together.
Her eyelids grew heavier… and heavier.
Eventually, she gave in and walked over to the sofa at the back of the lounge.
“It’s thin, but this is all I’ve got.”
Noah pulled out a stiff summer blanket and handed it to her.
Jamie covered herself loosely and drifted off almost instantly.
***
The Dream
She dreamed something strange.
A shadowy figure was chasing her.
It moved faster and faster until it caught her wrist.
A chill ran down her spine.
She tried to fight free, but her body wouldn’t move — as if frozen in place.
The figure leaned close, whispering something against her ear—
And Jamie shivered in her sleep.
“Huh…”
Her eyelids fluttered open. The haze between dream and reality slowly cleared.
The room was dark.
She looked around — Noah was lying on a mat across from her, fast asleep.
“Seriously? He said he’d wake me up!”
She reached for her phone to check the time — but the battery was dead.
Annoyed, she shook him roughly.
“Hey! Wake up! You said you’d wake me!”
Noah’s long lashes fluttered open.
He rubbed his eyes, stretching lazily as his low, sleepy voice rumbled:
“Sorry… I just meant to close my eyes for a minute.”
Jamie rolled her eyes and hurriedly packed her things. They left the lounge together—
But when they reached the ground floor, the heavy metal door was locked shut.
“What the—? Why won’t it open?!”
Jamie twisted the handle and pounded on the door, but it didn’t budge.
Noah, still half-drowsy, just yawned and stretched.
“Looks like someone locked it from outside. That’s… not good.”
He pushed hard, but the door didn’t move an inch.
“The janitor must’ve locked up without realizing we were still inside.”
“Do you know his number?”
“I can call someone who does—wait.”
He patted his hoodie and pants pockets, frowning.
“I think I left my phone downstairs in the locker room. Can I use yours?”
“…Mine’s dead.”
Finally realizing how bad the situation was, Noah let out a groan.
