Little did I know that just a few months later I would be living in an apartment with my boyfriend, who was not Noah. I had no idea what was coming when my mother pulled into the parking lot at WCU—even less so when I met the rude boy with the curly hair. I wouldn’t have believed it if someone told me, and now I can’t imagine my life without that crabby guy. Butterflies begin to dance in my stomach as I remember the way it felt to catch a glimpse of him on campus, to try to glance around the room to look for him in Literature, the way I’d catch him looking at me while the professor was
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I know, I was there the whole time
