Kate in Waiting Becky Albertalli (best way to read books TXT) 📖

I bite back a smile. “Please don’t be cool around me.”

“Deal.” His eyes catch mine. And suddenly our faces are inches apart.

It feels like stepping onto a stage. It feels like every cell in my body waking up all at once. He leans forward.

“Kate? Hello? Noah?”

Noah jolts up straight, eyes huge, shooting me a quick, awkward smile.

“Guys, it’s 2:28. Where are you?” Devon Blackwell’s voice carries faintly from around the corner.

“Hey! Sorry.” I jump up, scrambling to collect our pizza plates and bottles. “We’re right here. We’re ready. I’m so sorry.” I speed walk back around the perimeter of the school, Noah drifting behind me. When I glance back, he looks like he’s about to burst out laughing.

I try to glare at him, but it’s hopeless.

For the rest of the afternoon, every time I look at him, I get goose bumps.

Scene 69

Naturally, Ryan’s ignoring my texts. Which is great. Because Brandie’s riding with Raina, and Raina’s only allowed to drive one person. And it’s not like I can call Mom, because she’ll want to know why I’m not just riding home with Matt and Anderson.

Looks like I’m riding home with Matt and Anderson.

We all leave through the auditorium side door, so Ms. Zhao and Mr. D can lock up behind us, and I end up falling into step beside Noah. I smile up at him. “So.”

“So.” He flicks his cast. “Guess how much I hate not being allowed to drive right now.” His voice is light, but there’s this glint in his eyes, and I feel achy and warm all the way to my toes.

I mean. That was real, right? Noah Kaplan almost kissed me, right there. Right outside the auditorium. Completely unscripted.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday?”

“Kate?” Matt appears behind me, lifting his key ring. “You ready?”

“Yes! Sorry.” I shoot a quick smile at Noah.

He does a tiny salute with his cast-free hand and then trails off toward the carpool circle.

And now I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I’d probably be kissing Noah Kaplan this very minute if I had my license right now.

I mean. I’m sixteen years old, I have access to a car, and I’ve already taken Driver’s Ed. There’s literally no reason for me not to have my license. This isn’t a glitch or bad luck or sucky timing. This is me choosing to rely on my friends for rides. Or my brother. Or my parents. And something tells me none of them are dying to deliver me to Noah’s house so we can make out in his bedroom.

I’ve said it a million times: I have no game. I’m my own cockblock. But, like, it’s an actual measurable fact now. I myself am the reason I am not kissing Noah Kaplan on this fine September afternoon.

Instead, I’m third-wheeling it with Andy and Matt. It’s especially great, seeing as Andy and I haven’t spoken since our super-fun talk in the bathroom on Thursday. Which—I’m startled to realize—was only two days ago. It feels like centuries. I think it’s the longest Andy and I have ever gone without speaking since we met.

As for Matt, I’m just too mortified to even look at him.

I stay a foot or two behind the boys all the way across the parking lot and slip straight into the back seat, before Andy can even think of offering me shotgun. And for the first minute or two of the drive, it’s total silence.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say finally.

“No problem.” Matt shoots me a smile in the rearview mirror. “What are you up to the rest of today?”

“Probably homework,” I say.

Or, you know. Sitting in my room, replaying every single second of the forty-five minutes I spent outside with Noah. Especially the moment there at the end where I swear—I swear—he would have kissed me if Devon hadn’t shown up.

Except it’s not the almost-kiss I keep circling back to. And it’s not the closeness or his electric-bright eyes or even his laugh—which just might be my favorite song on earth.

It’s the conversation.

I just keep thinking about the secret anxious Noah—the one who gets overwhelmed by human interaction but goes to parties anyway. The one who literally breaks bones running away from ambiguous social situations. I think I might be the only person in the whole world who knows that Noah.

I kind of can’t wait to know more.

“—if you want,” Matt’s saying, and I look up with a start to find him glancing back at me again in the mirror.

I blush. “Sorry, will you say that one more time? I was just . . .”

“Sure, I was just saying Andy and I were gonna watch Anastasia back at his place. You should come.”

“Oh. Uh. I’m sorry. I don’t think that’s . . .” But I catch a glimpse of Matt’s wrinkled brow and quickly change course. “I have a lot of algebra to catch up on.”

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Andy shifts in his seat, directly in front of me. He hasn’t said a word this whole trip, and of course I’m sitting in the one spot where I can’t see his face.

I feel this pang of missing him, so sharp I almost lose my breath. Two days of not speaking. I was smart to avoid him. Sitting this close to him is practically unbearable.

It feels like standing on the doorstep without a key to your own home.

Scene 70

Matt stays at Anderson’s house until well after dinner, which is more than fine by me. It just makes it that much easier to avoid him. Of course, he clearly knows I’m avoiding him, which I feel a little sick about. He hasn’t really been pushing the issue, though.

Until tonight. When he knocks on my door.

For a second, I consider waiting him out. Pretending I went to bed early or something. I’m sure he sees the lights on under my door, but maybe I could pretend I fell asleep doing algebra homework. But I can’t bring myself to lie, at