Take Me Tomorrow (9 page)

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Authors: Shannon A. Thompson

BOOK: Take Me Tomorrow
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“Move it, Noah.
” I pushed against his chest, tears burning my eyes as I realized what kind of trouble everyone was in. Tomo trouble. Legal trouble. My friends.

“It’s too late, Sophie
,” he spoke calmly, but I tried to push past him.

He held my shoulders as my palm met the door.
The glass pounded to the beat of the music, but it didn’t swing open. Pierson had locked it. My fist curled, and my nails scraped against the metal.

“You did this, didn’t you?
” I screeched as I stepped back. When I had seen Broden, he was dealing drugs to the crowd. “You and Broden and your stupid drugs. You’re spreading them!”

“Calm down, Sophie.
” He reached up to touch me, but I swatted him away.

“Report you.” M
y voice shook. “I’m going to report you.”

Noah
flinched, and his gaze dropped to my heels. “Can you run in those?” he asked.

The question stopped me.
“Why would I need to run?”

Noah went rigid. His torso tightened, but his face
lifted toward the clock tower. From where we stood, we could only see the brick wall, but Noah’s eyes squinted as if he could see something happening. He breathed, but he didn’t move. “Take those off,” he ordered as his eyes flashed brightly.

“Noah.” His name escaped me.
“You—you’re on tomo.”

“Nate,” he
corrected, ignoring my comment. Before I could argue, he leaned down, grabbed my bare leg, and pulled one heel off.

“What—” I squirmed, but his hand
shackled my leg.

He moved to my other calve, and
I tripped as he pulled the other heel off. I teetered, but his arm caught my torso. His hand landed on my mouth before I screamed, and his other hand landed on my lower back. Through the thin fabric of my dress, his fingers moved across my spine.

“Nate,” he
repeated his name as he pulled me toward the end of the dock.

He only let me go to toss my
expensive heels into the rushing water below us. They disappeared into the waves. The recent storms had turned the once trickling river into a tossing lake. My shoes hadn’t stood a chance. “Why did you do that?” I asked, quieter than I had expected.

He didn’t answer as
his hands dipped under my arms. Without speaking, he picked me up, spun me around, and dropped me on the outer ledge of the deck. My scream echoed as I latched onto his jacket.

“What are you doing?” I yelped
, trying to gain his attention, but he was analyzing the water below me. The river was a fifteen-foot drop. “Stop it. Let me go!”

“Sophie.” He met
my eyes in my moment of panic. He smiled as his hand moved across my bare shoulder. I shook my head, and my curls bounced in the wind.

He wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it.
Pushing me into the river was going too far. He wasn’t that insane.

“Noah,
” my voice wavered, and I lifted my knee to try to climb over, but he stabilized me on the other side.

“Sophie,” he repeated. “You’re
going to be okay,” he promised, his eyes flashing from the clairvoyant drug. “Trust me. I’m saving you,” he said as sirens split the air, and he shoved me off of the edge.

 

 

Going to Die

 

My mother called me Sophie, but it was short for my entire name. Sophia Elizabeth Gray. My middle name was her first name, and she was proud of it, so she called me Sophie, “Like
, Soph E.,” she once explained.

During the conversation, she was washing my hair, and the water had been too soapy. It burned my eyes and tasted like a punishment. I squirmed when I told her, but she kept talking like she couldn’t hear me. She scrubbed my scalp too hard. It hurt, and the only thing that stopped her was my dad. He burst in, yelled, and she let go of me. I slipped back, hit my head, and the water was all I remembered.

Now, it was everywhere. It was between my toes and wrapped around my arms, clutching my fingers and twisting my hair. Grasping my dress, the river ripped the fabric around my legs. The cold rush of it all spun me around, and dirt scraped across my face. The icy water smacked my injuries the way alcohol did when it was used to clean blood out. Back then, my father had to use alcohol to clean my scalp. I still had a bumpy scar. Now, I couldn’t feel it.

I clenched m
y teeth and tried to pry my eyes open, but my mouth opened instead. I gulped on river water. My throat tightened, and my body screamed. My arms and my legs flailed around. I could swim, but the rushing current made it hard to realize which way was up. Just the thought of the previous rains drowned me.

I smacked into something
− too quickly to tell what the object was − and a branch wrapped around my swinging arm. Then, it wasn’t a branch. It was a hand. A big hand. And then, it let go.

When my head broke the surface,
a boy screamed my name. I was sucked back under, and I flipped in the water. My navy dress snagged on twigs, rocks, and waves, but the ripping was suddenly calming. I was going to die.

Pain shot up my back as m
y body jerked up. Oxygen flooded through me, and my head spun as I heard my name again. It sounded like my father, but my dad never called me Sophie.

Noah’s voice rose
above the sirens that consumed the night air, the same night air that bit my exposed skin like sleet.

I
gurgled the water that my lungs rejected, and Noah dragged us across the river. I clutched his heavy jacket, and my fingers dug into him like the river had dug into me. My heart was racing, and a whimper escaped me.

When I regained my focus, I
watched as Noah pulled on a fisher’s net he had snagged. We were depending on the net to get us to shore. Even with the item, he strained against the current, and his foot kicked against mine. He was a strong swimmer, stronger than anyone else I knew in the Topeka Region. I was wrong about him. He hadn’t grown into the forest. He had come out of the water.

B
efore I even saw the water's edge, Noah pulled me onto the shore and followed me. He gasped for breath, half of his torso collapsing on top of me. Both of us spit up water, unable to care where it landed. I could barely breathe, and his hand moved to my head. His fingertips stroked my scalp like I needed the comfort. Honestly, I probably did.

He pushed himself up on shaking arms.
“You okay?”

I
smacked him across the face.

As if we hadn’t had enough water, rain began to downpour, cold and wet like the river. I shook, but my hand remained in the air, and rain dropped off of his bangs. His face was already reddening, but there was red that wasn’t supposed to be there. Blood. His head was split open, and th
e blood trickled down his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. His widened pupils were looking directly at me.

“I—I—” My lips shook as they
searched for words.

He pushed himself off of me, and his back fell into the mud next to me. I sat up, half-expecting him to be unconscious, but he was looking at the clouds. Mud dug into my hips.

Before I could ask him if he was okay, he spoke, “I was trying to save you.”

Sirens continued to shriek as I realized how far away we had gotten from the party.
The banquet hall was tiny against the dark sky, and if it weren’t for the police car lights, I probably wouldn’t have even been able to see it. We were far enough away that I could only make out the clock tower. The police would be too busy with the students to chase anyone who ran. We had escaped.

He turned his face to look down river.
“We have to go,” he whispered as he shoved his elbows down. He pushed himself up, but I grabbed his arm. He flinched.

I pulled away. “Blood,” I managed.

His eyebrows furrowed, but his eyes scanned every crevice of me before I realized he was checking me for injuries instead of himself.

“You
r head,” I clarified, leaning over to touch his face. I hesitated, but he didn’t move. My fingertips met his chin, and I turned his head to see it. A gash was on the right side of his hairline, and it was bleeding heavily. Even though the rain washed it away, it kept coming.


You’re bleeding,” I said.

H
is peripheral vision searched for me. It took his sideways glance for me to realize how close we were, only centimeters apart. I could feel his heat through his wet clothes, and I bet he could feel mine.

I let go
and scooted back.

He straightened up. “You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked. He had yet to acknowledge his own problems.

I didn’t respond. I could only see his blood.

“I’m okay,
Sophie,” he promised, wincing as he lifted his fingers to his head. He must have hit his head on a rock.

“You
need a doctor,” I said.

“Hospitals don’t take my kind,” he said, careful not to shake his head. H
e laid his hands on the ground and pushed himself up, checking his body for more injuries. He didn’t see anything, and before I knew it, his eyes glided over me. My wet dress suddenly felt too tight.

“You’re really not hurt
?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, standing. “We should go.” And I fought the urge to tell him to stop staring at me.
I didn’t want to know what I looked like after the river had torn my appearance to shreds.

Noah cleared his throat.
“How close is your house from here?”

“I think you kn
ow that already,” I said.

His usual cocky self returned with a grin.
“Thought I’d ask anyway.”

“What a gentleman,” I joked, and we laughed
, only to stop when he winced. His eyes closed, and I swallowed my nerves. The sirens were getting louder. “Let’s go,” I said, grabbing his arm.

He didn’t move away. He walked with me. “Broden got out,” he said as we stumbled over the rocks. If talking helped him, I had to reciprocate. If he passed out, I couldn’t carry him. Our only hope was getting back to my place.

“And Lily?” I continued. “Miles? Everyone else?”

Noah
shook his head, but I didn’t know if it was to answer my question or to get the rain out of his eyes. I told him to keep his head still. He didn’t move it after that, but I stared at his injury whenever I could. For a moment, even though it was dark, I could see his hair dye washing away, his blond mop peeking through. With his dark jacket and ruffled appearance, he almost looked like he did the day in the forest.


I’m not that hurt,” he said, quickening our pace. “If we linger, you’re going to get sick − or arrested.”

Right as he said it, I tripped.
When I fell forward, my knees hit the rocks. I yelped, and Noah jumped in front of me. “You all right?”

“I’m good,” I said, knowing that a scraped knee was the least of our concerns.

He held out a hand, and I took it. In a second, he pulled me up, and I fell into his arms from the unexpected rush. I shivered, my face buried in his jacket, and his other hand wrapped around my shoulder blades as if to hold me there. He stiffened for a moment, his whole body rigid, and we both tensed against one another, neither moving. We remained like that despite the rain, and the warmth of his chest burned through his wet clothes. Every instinct I had wanted to continue to hold onto him, but I pushed myself away.

“Let’s go,” I stumble
d over my words and walked away. I only turned around when I was positive my blush was gone. Even though moments had passed, Noah remained on the riverbank, his expression flooded with an emotion I didn’t recognize. His mouth hung open, but his eyes were soft. He looked like he had woken up from a dream, and I expected to see his cat-eyes, explaining that he was witnessing our future arrest, but nothing happened.

Whatever caused his expression wasn’t caused by drugs, and
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out what had consumed his thoughts.

 

 

You’ve Been Expecting Me

 

We followed an array of unmarked forest trails for
an hour before the sirens died. We saw my house minutes later. The rain stopped, but any heat we had died. “I know it’s wet,” Noah said as he draped his jacket over my shoulders, “but the heaviness should keep you warm.”

He was right. The warmth fell over my shoulders, and I tightened my grip on it.
My legs were covered in dirt, torn up by thorns, and my gritty skin was covered in grime. I wanted to get inside to know we were safe, and Noah did, too. He hadn’t stopped talking about it, and I encouraged it.

When we hit the driveway, we both sped up, treading to the house w
ith our eyes locked on the safe haven. When lightning flashed, we both jumped, and Argos barked as he ran toward us. I halted, my hand landing on his wet fur as he stopped at my feet. “Hey, boy,” I cooed.

Noah stopped feet from us, but
Argos didn’t question his presence this time. In fact, he wagged his tail and darted up to him. Noah’s hand wavered as he pet the dog.


What’s he doing outside?” he asked.

I looked over to see the entrance to my house, and all
my hope drained out of me. “The front door is open,” I whispered.

Noah didn’t hesitate. He jogged toward it.

I bolted behind him, Argos at my heels. “Wait.”

But it was too late.

I rounded the corner, and I was face-to-face with Broden. His reddened face was all I saw before he shot forward and pinned Noah against the doorframe. Argos’ neck fur rose with his growl, but Broden continued to dig his splint into Noah’s neck. The boy wheezed, and his blood trailed down his face heavier now that he was out of the rain.

“Broden,
” I exclaimed, pulling him as if I could separate the two, but Broden was stronger than my exhausted arms could manage. Argos’ growls turned into threatening barks.

Broden leaned into Noah, but he spoke to me,
“You were supposed to stay home.”

“I
f you were honest with me, I would have,” I screamed, yanking at his shirt as Noah wheezed again. “And if it weren’t for Noah, I’d be in jail right now, so let him go.”

“If it were
n’t for Noah, the police wouldn’t have been there,” Broden yelled.

“If it were
n’t for
both of you, the police wouldn’t have been there,” I corrected.

My words
silenced Broden, and his arm dropped from Noah’s throat. He stepped back, and Noah rubbed his throat as he coughed. How the two boys were supposedly best friends was beyond me.

“Just
a reminder,” Noah rasped, “We did agree on that plan.”

Broden’s expression faltered,
and I saw Broden’s anger as if I had taken tomo. I leapt between them, preventing Broden from pinning Noah again. “Stop it,” I demanded, laying my hands on Broden’s chest. “He’s already bleeding.”

Broden
’s eyes darted to the injury on Noah’s hairline. “How did that happen?”

Noah shrugged
, so I spoke for him. “Saving my life,” I clarified, purposely forgetting to mention the fact that Noah had been the one to push me into the river.

“At least you’re good f
or something,” Broden spat.

Noah’s face darkened like Broden’s
words meant something I couldn’t understand. His words had hit Noah somewhere personal, and Noah’s lips curled into a snarl, “At least I’m good at saving your girlfriend.”

I moved away from Noah as if I invited Broden to hit him. “I am not his girlfriend,” I said, but they ignored my comment.

The boys were locked on one another, but neither moved. Broden knew how to fight with his fists, but Noah knew how to fight with his words. The two were indestructible together, but I didn’t want to know who would win if they fought one another.

This was bad.

“Children,” the roar of a voice broke them apart.

Noah backed
against the doorway while Broden turned around to search the shadows. Even though Broden had been here, he clearly didn’t know there was a man in the house all along. No one had, yet here we were, watching the man walk onto the porch to join us. The glasses in his front pocket reflected lightning into his face. The hulky man with pepper-colored hair crossed his arms as he looked us over.

“Dad?” I managed as
Argos’ tail wagged. “What are you doing here?”

“Ho
w could I not be?” he responded with a parental tone I hadn’t heard before now. He took one step forward, and his gray eyes darted over the boys. He laid a restful hand on his belt. A blade blinked from beneath his clothes. “I don’t appreciate fighting in my home,” he said. “We have two others sleeping.” Lyn and Falo were home, but he didn’t seem to care about how we looked, torn and bloody. He looked like he was expecting it.

Noah stiffened
, “Dwayne Gray?”

My father’s caterpillar eyebrows pushed together, and the wrink
les on his forehead became prominent. “Who are you?”

“My name is N
oah Tomery,” he answered, revealing a last name I had never heard before. “I believe you’ve been expecting me.”

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