........................................
NOAH
It's cold these days.
In the gleam of our apartment kitchen, I'm plating dinner—mac and cheese—savouring the familiar routine after the whirlwind of the past 24 hours. It's comfort food as November rolls in, frosting the glass of the balcony doors.
Jed hasn't stopped talking about Mick. "Celestially hot," he says, using those words as if they're everyday vocabulary. I can't help but crack a smile at the infatuation, even as I focus on arranging the plates.
Fox is on a stool beside him, leaned back, his gaze fixed on his hands resting open on the island.
His arm is bandaged.
Fox made me swear I wouldn't tell Cam what Maddie did. He says he'll tell her.
I don't like it. But he gave me his word.
Fox has been very, very quiet since.
I miss Camila. It feels like an eternity since I felt her in my arms.
"Man, you should've seen Mick at the pool," Jed continues, oblivious to the tension. He shuffles a deck of Taro cards. He's been flipping them for hours, frowning at the reveals, sometimes smiling. "Like a damn fish. So graceful. So lithe."
I nod, offering a half-hearted "Hm" as I transfer the warm plates full of orange cheesy goodness to the kitchen island.
Jed drops the cards and grabs the plate like a gremlin, spooning a heaping bite into his mouth.
"Fanks," he says around the bite, nodding enthusiastically.
I sit down across from Fox, sprinkling chili flakes onto my plate. I eat a bit slower that Jed—everyone eats slower than Jed.
Fox takes his fork, staring at it. His voice is low and rough. "Thanks, man."
"All good, just eat," I say.
The buzz slices through the air that snaps Jed to his feet. He pads over to the intercom, pressing the button. "Yeah?"
I don't even have time to hope it's her.
"Hey. It's...It's me."
Fox's whole body tightens, a coil ready to snap.
Jed glances back at us. Fox clears his throat, a slight nod barely visible.
"I do not want to see you but Fox has granted your visit," Jed says into the intercom, stepping back.
Jed sits back down, stealing another forkful of mac and cheese.
Every muscle in my body is on alert. I'm trying, really trying, to tamp down the resentment for Fox's sake.
The knock comes, soft but insistent. Fox stands, a deep breath in, and walks toward it, rolling his shoulders. I catch sight of the bandage on his elbow again as he goes, and my fists clench.
I'm not good at pleasantries, so best I keep my mouth shut.
Maddie steps in wearing a pink sweater, long blonde hair falling over her shoulders. The first thing she does is pull Fox into a kiss.
Fox, frozen for a moment, wraps his arms around her, responding with a hesitancy that morphs into something more solid in a few seconds.
Jed grimaces but doesn't stop shoveling mac and cheese into his mouth.
Fox pulls back first, a soft, "Maddie," escaping him.
Maddie's eyes flick to mine, then she looks away. Yeah, I bet I'm not too happy looking right now.
"Can we talk?" she whispers to Fox.
He nods, gesturing to the hall, around the corner where his room is. She takes his arm as they disappear.
Jed, scraping his plate, looks at me. "The universe does not align with this."
No fucking shit.
It's an hour before Fox and Maddie reappear from his room. Both their hair looks like they've been through a wind tunnel, cheeks flushed.
It's not like the apartment is soundproof. It's not like Jed and I are oblivious.
I shake my head with a taught jaw, focusing on rinsing the last of the dishes.
Maddie adjusts her sweater, pulling Fox down for another kiss before heading out the door.
Fox leans against the now-closed door, a laugh escaping him, the tension in his shoulders gone.
Fox tells us that Maddie apologized—to him and to Cam. That she feels bad. That she knows she messed up and never wants to hurt them like that again.
I keep my comments to myself, nodding once, and head upstairs, tossing a "Goodnight" over my shoulder.
Fox is happy again, so I'm taking myself out of the equation for tonight.
Getting ready for bed is a routine, but tonight, my mind is loud.
I lay down with damp hair, the glowing stars on my ceiling a small comfort is only because Cam's likes them. If only because they've shone on her pretty smile.
When the clock hits 10:00 PM, I know Cam's shift at Fire Base is over.
At 10:45 PM, I imagine she's home, probably hopping up on the kitchen counter after her shower, maybe with a snack. A protein bar, likely. I wish I had her here so I could cook for her.
My nightstand phone softly beeps at 10:51 PM. I pluck it from the receiver and press the speaker button, resting it on my chest.
"Hey," Cam's voice whispers through. "I have to be quiet, Maddie's sleeping on the couch." She pauses. "She went to your place, didn't she."
I sigh. "Seems like Fox and her...made up."
Cam yawns, a soft exhale on her end. "I'm glad."
"She apologized to you, right?"
"Yeah. I know it was supposed to make me feel better."
"If it didn't make things right, it's okay. You're allowed to be mad."
There's a pause. "I'm not mad. It just..." Her voice cracks and my heart goes with it. "I feel hollowed out. What if my life's just been fake? I missed signs of so much. I've been focused on school, work, school, work...but I don't know what I'm doing. I want this new job, but if I don't get it, I don't know how to pivot. I'm getting a business degree, but for what?" She exhales. "Sorry. Long day. I miss you."
"You're life isn't fake, Camila. You don't have to have it all figured out."
"But you do. You want to be an archivist. You'll be the best archivist there ever was. I'm excited for you, you know."
I sigh, feeling the distance between dreams and reality. "I'm working on more realistic goals, lately. Like seeing you more. That's my new goal."
Through the phone, I can hear her soft laugh. "You can't see me, but I'm smiling."
"That made my night a whole lot better," I reply, feeling a genuine smile spread across my face.
She's silent again. I can picture her, sitting up on the kitchen counter in the dark, still watching over her roommate, still caring for someone who hurt her.
There's a yawn on her end, and I chuckle softly. "You're so tired, Cam. Leave Maddie on the couch and go get some sleep."
"No."
"You're my girlfriend. You must obey."
"Ha."
I grin. "Please, baby. Sleep."
"I don't want to hang up," she whispers.
Fuck. I don't want her to either, but she needs sleep. Fuel. Energy. Rest.
"We can talk tomorrow, okay?" I say, hating that I can't see her until then.
"Okay." There's a pause, a softness. "Talking to you makes everything seem less heavy."
I adjust the pillow under my head, squeezing my eyes shut, wishing more than anything she was in my arms. "Go to bed and dream of something nice."
"Maybe I can manifest myself into a new Rocky movie."
"Bet you can." I grin, listening for a moment longer, making sure she hangs up first.
With a small, reluctant, "Night, Noah", she does. My chest pangs as the line goes dead.
I stare up at the glowing stars.
I think about what she said—about feeling like her life has been fake, about missing signs of what's real. And I wonder, not for the first time, if I've been doing the same thing.
Slowly, surrounded by the soft glow of my stars, I find the answer, and the entire night passes, loud and brutal in my mind, without a wink of sleep.
As light slices through my balcony window, hitting me square in the face, I force myself out of bed. My seminar presentation on Ancient Executions in Athens can't give itself, but fuck, I wish it could.
Routine kicks in—teeth, hair, a sharp glance at my reflection that's almost as cutting as the scar across my face. I pull on black slacks, belt them, and grab a white button-down, shrugging it on and folding up the sleeves to my elbows.
Downstairs, Jed and Fox are in the middle of breakfast. It's just cereal since I wasn't down here to cook anything, and they can barely fend for themselves.
"Noah, you emanate a sharp, serious, tumultuously silent aura today," Jed declares.
I move past them to the fridge. Orange juice poured into a glass. The taste clashes with the mint of toothpaste, and I grimace.
Thoughts of my father, of Day, haunted me all night—a myriad of little failures accumulating like dust on a desk.
There's no time to dwell on it with a 30-minute seminar talk looming over my head.
I glance at Fox, shoveling Raisin Bran into his with a contentedness that was missing last night. He seems okay. Happy even.
The main phone line rings as I set the glass in the sink. I figure it's Jed's mom. It's usually Jed's mom.
Bag over my shoulder, I head for the door, skipping food. Not hungry.
"Wait a sec," Fox calls out, stopping me in my tracks.
I pause, bag half-lifted, turning. Fox is at the phone, the receiving pressed to his ear, nodding, staring at me.
"Hey little man. Deep breaths."
My skin goes cold.
I drop my bag and head over, taking the phone right from his grip.
My baby brother's choking on sobs on the other end.
I'm frozen, phone clutched tight, as Azi's sobs fill the silence. "Hey, buddy, what's going on?"
Between gasps, Azi chokes out, "Maman and-and Day are fighting again. You have to-You have to come home, Noah."
Each word is a punch to my gut. "What happened?"
"It's just... loud. And scary. Day won't-won't listen. He's being mean." His voice dissolves into cries again.
I hit my head against the wall, closing my eyes, feeling utterly fucking helpless. "I'm coming home tomorrow. It's going to be okay."
There's a shuffle, then Maman's on the line, her voice heavy with frustration, slipping into French. "Je suis désolée, Noah. Azi should not have called. Do not worry, it is fine."
"What happened? Is everyone okay?" I ask, pushing off the wall. Jed an Fox are staring at me, and when I catch them, they lower their eyes, finding something else to look at.
"Your brother, he is drinking. I found bottles. I am furious." Her voice is a mix of rage and fear. "I flushed it down the toilet. No more. Not in my home. You go do school, yes? No worry," she says, though the tremor in her voice betrays her.
"Maman, wait—"
With a final "Take care, chérie," she hangs up.
I replace the receiver slowly, a new weight settling on my shoulders. Fox and Jed watch, silent, offering silent support I'm not going to accept.
Tomorrow. I'll be home tomorrow.
I'm already halfway out the door with my brown leather jacket when Fox's voice catches me. "Is Azi okay?"
"Yeah," I grunt, not really in the mood to explain or even think too much about it.
"We're getting coffee after class, right?" Jed asks.
"Yeah," I say, just to keep things simple. I shut the door behind me, the click an end.
The morning air is cold, a sharp reminder that I'm awake and alive and moving, though my stinging eyelids argue otherwise. I head to campus with my shoulders knotted tight.
WWII Weapons class is first on my schedule. Usually, it's a highlight—guns, strategy, the works—but the prof's words blur together. I can't take one note, not a simple line. I stop trying halfway through, just staring the way the clock's hands move for the two hours.
Next up is my punishments seminar. I head into the hall, straighten my shirt, trying to shake off the disquiet, and make my way to the front of the 500-person lecture hall. It's filled with first years.
The lights are too bright, the mic too slippery in my hand, but I manage. I make it interesting. I take questions from people I can't see in the shadows.
As I'm packing up, eager to escape, Lily approaches. Brunette hair, septum piercing, all confidence. She tells me I did fantastic. I don't even know why she's here in this class to begin with.
I think she asks to get dinner on campus, celebrate, but I'm miles away, trapped in my head, replaying Azi's sobs, Maman's anger, and the weight of my father's absence.
I need my father's hand on my shoulder.
I'll never feel it again.
I leave quickly, forgetting to be polite. I'm ready to be done with the day. With everything.
Coffee shop. I almost forget in all the haste.
I come to a stop on the campus quad, everyone walking around me, and I close my eyes. I breathe in some chilled air, letting it bite into my lungs.
I can finish this day. I can be there for my friends.
I walk to Hallowed Grounds, just a ten-minute stroll from campus, right near our apartment building. The door dings as I step in, and I spot Jed and Fox immediately. They've claimed our usual booth in the far corner, sitting side by side, leaving the entire other side open for me.
Dragging myself over, I throw my bag under the table and try to roll the tension out of my shoulders as I fall into the cushioned seat.
Jed and Fox—they love this place. They relish the moments spent here, decompressing and dissecting the day.
But as I settle, they're quiet.
"I'm fine," I say, fidgeting with a menu I have no interest in. The endless list of coffees and lattes and shit blur before my eyes.
Fox draws out, "Right."
Jed says, "The universe unfolds exactly as it should, even when it throws you into the whirlwind, Noah."
Despite everything, a grin cracks on my face. "Weirdo."
"Precisely," Jed says.
"Cam called after you left this morning," Fox adds. "We invited her to hang out."
My head snaps up so fast I think I strain something.
Right on cue, the bell above the door dings. Jed's finger points behind me to the entrance. "That is Camila."
I'm out of the booth before I even realize I've moved, my heart thundering in my chest.
_______________________
🫨🫨🫨
Best friendship in the book?
Thanks for reading Beneath.
—Laurel Montaze—
_______________________