Chapter 2
Unfortunately, Jamie had an afternoon class with Noah that day.
Which meant she had to sit there and see him wearing that coffee-stained shirt she’d ruined.
“…He could’ve at least changed. I feel guilty just looking at him.”
She chewed on the end of her pencil, sneaking glances at his profile across the room.
When she had apologized earlier, he’d simply waved it off with a gentle smile.
“It’s fine. It was iced, anyway.”
Still, her conscience couldn’t rest easy.
When class ended, students hurried out of the room.
But Noah lingered, slowly packing up his things.
“Now’s my chance.”
Jamie quietly approached him and lightly tapped his broad back.
He turned around immediately, flashing a bright, waiting smile.
“Hey, Noah.”
“Wow, is it my birthday? You’re talking to me first?”
His teasing tone hovered somewhere between friendly and flirty.
That voice was the reason so many girls had convinced themselves he liked them.
Jamie ignored the comment and said firmly,
“I felt bad about your shirt. I’d like to at least pay for the cleaning.”
She pulled out her phone.
“Can I send it through Venmo?”
Of course, it felt a bit ridiculous—offering money to someone who probably had more than she’d ever see in her life.
But she couldn’t think of any other way to make up for it.
Noah just stared at the phone she held out.
His smile faded completely.
“…”
Jamie had noticed before that without a smile, his face could look chillingly cold.
Without a word, he took her phone, typed in his number, and hit the call button.
His own phone buzzed a second later. He checked the screen carefully, then handed her phone back.
“I’ll send you thirty dollars. Fair enough?”
That should’ve covered the dry cleaning and the coffee.
But he shook his head slightly.
“Actually, there’s something else I’d rather you do for me.”
“Me? What kind of thing?”
“Just a small favor. I need someone to help out for a couple hours.”
He looked straight into her eyes as he said it—calmly, steadily.
Being that close, she realized how glassy and clear his eyes were.
She found herself staring too long and blurted out,
“Sure, I’m free this afternoon.”
Finally, he smiled again, a faint curve of his lips.
“Great. Then meet me at the football team locker room at five-thirty.”
“Wait—what kind of favor—”
But before she could finish, he slung his bag over his shoulder and disappeared out the door.
***
That Afternoon
Jamie spent the time before their meeting studying at the library.
But today, she couldn’t focus at all.
Her eyes kept drifting to the number at the top of her call list.
“He’s not even getting money from me—so why did he take my number?”
After a few seconds of hesitation, she tapped “Add New Contact”
and typed in Noah Christensen, then saved it.
Setting the phone down, she looked out the library window.
Outside, the football team was practicing hard on the field.
Noah launched the ball with his strong shoulder; it sliced through the defense like a missile.
It landed perfectly in Connor’s hands, as if magnetized.
The team cheered, bumping helmets together to celebrate the perfect pass.
“…”
Actually, Jamie had known Noah for quite a long time—if you counted the years.
Her family had immigrated to the U.S. when she was little.
Her father started a used-car business with help from relatives already living there,
and the business quickly took off.
Thanks to that, they moved into a safe, good school district called New Heights.
Her father, who valued education, went all out to enroll her in a private elementary school—one that was nearly impossible to get into.
She’d been accepted by luck, under a minority quota.
His intentions were good, but adapting there was tough.
The school was filled with rich, white kids, and her English wasn’t fluent yet.
That made her an easy target.
Especially for upper-class boys like Connor, who delighted in teasing her.
But strangely, Noah—who was already the leader of their group—never joined in.
He would just look at her quietly from afar.
Even back then, he seemed more mature than the other kids, calm and collected—almost too composed.
“He probably doesn’t even notice I exist.”
That thought comforted her.
At least he wasn’t one of the bullies.
If he had joined them, school life would’ve been hell.
Then one day, after Christmas break, Noah didn’t show up to school.
His desk stayed empty for days.
Jamie overheard two girls whispering behind her.
“Did you hear? Noah’s mom died.”
“What? How?”
“An accident, apparently.”
Her heart sank.
Jamie remembered seeing his mother once—tall, elegant, blonde, so beautiful.
And now she was gone? So young?
She couldn’t even imagine how painful that must have been for him.
When Noah finally returned, she expected him to look devastated.
But he didn’t.
In fact, he looked even more composed—tidy, polite, perfectly calm.
Almost like someone returning from a vacation, not a funeral.
“…How can he act so normal? His mom just died.”
He wasn’t an adult yet. How could any kid stay that calm—unless he felt nothing?
Even his friends who tried to comfort him backed off after realizing he didn’t want sympathy.
Soon, everyone stopped talking about it.
But Jamie noticed something new in his eyes whenever they met.
Even when he smiled, they looked hollow—like the light inside had gone out.
Time passed, and winter break came around again.
By then, the memory of his mother’s death had faded from everyone’s minds.
On the last day before break, students exchanged Christmas gifts.
Naturally, Noah got the most.
Everyone lined up to give him presents—luxury items far too extravagant for kids.
He smiled and thanked each person politely, as always.
But there was no joy behind that smile.
That afternoon, Jamie’s mom was late picking her up, so she wandered near the school.
Then she spotted Connor and some boys bouncing a basketball in the yard.
“Ugh, if they see me, they’ll tease me again. Better hide.”
She slipped away behind one of the buildings, walking aimlessly until she ended up near the trash area at the edge of campus.
And there he was—Noah.
He stood alone in front of the dumpsters, tall and still,
methodically throwing every single one of his Christmas gifts into the trash.
“…”
Her gut told her she shouldn’t be watching this.
But her feet wouldn’t move.
Then he looked up.
Their eyes met.
“Oh…”
Instead of getting angry, he just pressed the trash lid down and said quietly,
“You can tell the others if you want. No one will believe you anyway.”
“…I wasn’t going to say anything.”
He gave a small, dry laugh—like he’d just heard a ridiculous joke.
