Forget Me (Adore You Pt. 2)

Chapter 53

Chapter 53

The dinner party was the usual rich old stuffy dinner party that seemed to be the norm for people in their mid to late forties.

When I arrived, Noah's mom was exuberant that Noah had convinced me to show up. I was worried this was how the rest of the night was going to pan out and regretted being such a coward earlier.

Luckily it was relatively painless. She introduced me to a few friends, and then his stepfather made me meet a few of the track coaches from D1 schools he was friends with. I could tell Noah was uncomfortable, but the bragging was minimal, and it seemed as if they understood that I was not in the mood to be shown off. After that, they both went back to hosting their party and paid little mind to Noah and me.

"That was fairly painless," Noah said, leaning back against the bar counter.

"Yeah," I said, mimicking him.

"I talked to them before you came. I guess they actually listened. I told them you were going through some stuff with your family."

"Noah, don't lie to them."

"It's okay, just tell them your grandmother was sick or something, trust me. Otherwise, they would still be parading you around."

We stood quietly after that, watching people mingle. Trying to avoid talking about what happened in the alleyway just hours before. There was a lead weight in my stomach that I was trying to ignore. I didn't really eat much during dinner, hoping it would go away. It seemed to grow heavier with every minute that passed. I needed air. Noah's balcony was full of people, so that was out. I looked around his apartment; it seemed as if his mother invited the whole upper east side. I was surprised that I hadn't run into any Trinity Parents.

"You're mom isn't in with the Trinity group?" I asked.

"No. My moms kind of black-listed her after I was suspended. They don't want little old me ruining their perfect children's spotless records of cocaine weekends and inflated grade point averages."

"You know I made a friend. You kind of remind me of him. Just you're more bitter."

"Justin?"

"Yes. How do you know?"

He shrugged, "I saw you two painting. Geez, Lia, give me a little more credit than a future politician."

"He's a writer. Writing is an art just like painting."

"The guy wears sweater vests..." he said, cringing.

"It's part of our uniform Noah," I said, laughing.

"It's an optional part; He can just be normal and cover his arms like everyone else."

He sounded annoyed, but I could see his mouth twitching.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Shitty. Nauseous. I could use some fresh air. I don't think the different variations of Chanel I keep smelling are any help.

"We can head downstairs if you like."

I scanned the room. There was a winding staircase towards the back of the room next to the grand piano.

"Where does that staircase lead to, Noah?"

"The roof?"

"Is the party going on up there?"

"No. Why would it?"

"Is the view nice?" I asked, pushing off the bar counter.

"Yeah, but you can see the same view from the windows."