The sundae was mostly gone.
What was left had turned into that melted swirl of chocolate syrup and ice cream that nobody really admits they still like eating but secretly does anyway.
Noah was leaning back against the booth, one arm stretched across the top of the seat like he had nowhere else in the world he needed to be.
Which made the knot in my chest tighten a little.
Because I wanted to tell him.
I really did.
The words were sitting right there, practically pushing against my teeth.
I got accepted somewhere.
It should’ve been easy.
But it wasn’t.
Because telling him meant more than just sharing good news.
It meant opening a door to a conversation I wasn’t ready to have yet.
What if I couldn’t afford it?
What if my mom looked at the tuition and just shook her head because sending twins to college was already terrifying enough without adding out–of–state costs on top of it?
What if I told Noah I might leave…
And then it never even happened?
That would just hurt him for no reason.
I didn’t want to do that to him.
Not when things between us had finally settled into something real.
Five months.
Five months of proving everyone wrong.
Five months of learning how to breathe without worrying about who was whispering behind my back.
Five months of Noah looking at me like I was exactly who he wanted
And now I was sitting across from him thinking about possibly leaving
Even if it wasn’t guaranteed.
Even if it might not even happen.
My brain kept spinning through the same argument over and over.
Tell him.
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No, wait.
Tell him.
Not until you know for sure.
Across the table Noah was watching me again.
He had this look sometimes, like he could see the gears in my head turning.
“You’re thinking,” he said.
I sighed. “You keep saying that.”
“Because you keep doing it.”
I tried to smile, but I knew it probably looked a little weak.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Jess-”
“I promise.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go for the moment.
Probably because I picked up my spoon again and started poking at the leftover chocolate sauce in the bottom of the dish.
There was barely anything left.
Just a thin streak of syrup along the glass.
I dipped my finger into it.
Noah’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“That is the most suspicious ‘nothing‘ I’ve ever seen.”
I held up my finger, now covered in chocolate.
“I’m warning you,” I said.
He leaned back slightly, amused.
“Warning me about what?”
“This.”
I made a small flicking motion toward him.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Oh, I dare.”
He shook his head, grinning. “Jess.”
I leaned forward a little.
“You deserve it for the whipped cream on my nose earlier.”
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It wasn’t dramatic.
Just soft.
Familiar.
The kind of kiss that felt like something you didn’t have to think about anymore.
When I pulled back, Noah looked a little surprised but definitely pleased.
“Well,” he said. “That was unexpected.”
“You earned it.”
“I should steal chocolate from you more often.”
I rolled my eyes.
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