Every Word You Never Said (Noahverse, #3)

by Jordon Greene

how beautifully fragile we are that we accept pain when we think we deserve it and let it break us silently.

He’s actually really cute. Like, I’d tap that cute, if he was into guys at all. Or me, for that matter. I probably shouldn’t be thinking about tapping the new kid so soon. Or ever.

Why do there have to be cute boys? And I swear they’re all straight. I scream internally at my doomed fate.

Plus, how do you ask a guy out without the very real possibility that a long history of toxic masculinity connects a fucking fist to your jaw?

him. “He doesn’t usually talk a lot, but he’ll talk for hours about a single book if you let him. You can thank me later.”

That's totally me!

I really hope this lasts.

Mee too xD

I’d almost forgotten about Jacob. Maybe forgotten is the wrong word, but I hadn’t thought I would run into him again, not this soon.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s okay if you’re not straight here. I’m pan. Seth’s a straighty, but I forgave him for that a few years ago. I don’t want to assume your sexuality, though, or your gender.”

“Pronouns?” she digs, but I like it.

I’m not standing down this time. I do that too much. And it’s such a stupid little thing. It’s my fucking nails. I don’t think God cares if I put a little color on them.

“Yes, there is. It’s not right for a man to paint his nails. There are things women do that men aren’t supposed to, just like there are things men do that women aren’t supposed to,” he explains.

“It’s biblical, Jacob. Men are to be masculine, bold, not feminine.” He points at my hands in disgust, repeating the sexist drivel.

Surprise, asshole, I’ve been out for years.

“What does he expect when he comes dressed like that?” Coach Bass waves his hand in front of me.

“I want you to know we’re here for you,”

If that’s what you want, we’ve got your back, and we’ll root you on. We love you. None of that stuff matters.”

I jerk back. Breathe, Sky.

It’s good I like to read. What the hell do book haters do when their parents ground them?

You didn’t take me as a reader? All right now. Just because I’m in a band doesn’t mean I don’t read.

What? All because of me? A grown-ass man is proposing a whole new dress code because little ol’ me wore a freaking skirt to school?

I turn to face Ian and Sky. “I hate people, men mostly, but people.”

He keeps sniffling, and I have to keep taking deep breaths to stay calm. How could anyone do something to make him feel like this? How fucked up is that?

He’s like me. He’s broken, hurting. This, all of this, is not what I expected, it’s not the idea of him I had in my head.

It makes him more real to me. And honestly, it makes him beautiful. He’s trying so hard to be himself. All he wants is for the people he loves to love him back as he is. I get that.

“Life, Ian, I choose life.” I grip the door handle.

“Still?” “All right, bitch, I’m a slow reader. Calm it down,” I fight back, laughing a little extra just to make sure he knows I’m joking.

“You would have on your own eventually. You’re not exactly the go-along-to-get-along type,”

“Yeah… People get all weird about us gays doing anything. Wearing skirts, painting our nails, swimming, speaking…existing.”

It’s not that bad. It’s just a skirt. I mean, yeah, it sucks, but the way Noah’s talking makes it sound so much worse. But there’s something else in his face, something hurt and distant that I can’t quite pinpoint.

Something in my chest warms at the thought that he thinks of us as family. But something else is stirring, a longing, a desire, a wanting to be even more than that.

If I were to glow with how much I want him right now, I’d be brighter than the sun.

Everyone says teen relationships don’t last anyway. And is it even a relationship? I think. I hope. You know what? Stop thinking about that.

“And your friend?” she asks. My friend? No. He’s more than that. And I’m going to ask him to Homecoming!

He juts his middle finger toward me, and as suddenly as his finger flashes, he twists on his feet and runs out the door.

Maybe I rushed into all of this. Did I feel bad for him because he couldn’t talk? No. Okay, that’s stupid. No. Definitely not that. But did I rush in?

How could I be so blind? Why did I think he was any different? All the sweet words, the cute looks. All for nothing. All just to dig a spike into my heart and twist it when I finally caught on.

I have to protect myself. No one else will.

Be strong, Sky. Be strong.

every person in this building who thinks I woke up one day and chose this, that I chose to be ridiculed by them, to be looked down on by them, hated by them, is a fucking moron.

So when are you going to leave me? I stare at her. Everyone does. It’s easier to leave first.

“We ain’t going anywhere, Sky!”

“It’s not been easy, but you keep pushing on.”

“Skylar, come on up here.” He smiles, and the crowd screams for me to go.

“but your hands and your eyes and your lips, they’ve said so much. I’m not looking for your voice. I’m aiming for your heart.”