Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1) Emily Kazmierski (ereader that reads to you TXT) 📖

When the door finally swings inward, Noah frowns behind his glasses, which are crooked on his nose. The ivory waffle shirt he’s wearing is open at the collar, exposing the way his throat bobs when he swallows nervously. “How much of that did you hear?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” My completely convincing shrug almost makes him shake his head. One hand grips the wooden frame.

“Right.” Shutting the door behind him, Noah motions me toward the wicker chairs at the far end of the porch.

My shoulders slump at the realization that he doesn’t want me in his house. I’d been looking forward to seeing the twins again. Their beaming smiles and bright energy were always a welcome shot of hope when I fumbled in the dark.

My hands dangle awkwardly between my thighs as I try to find a comfortable position in the hard chair. Noah sits on the edge of the seat, elbows resting on his knees. He scans the yard, looking for something.

“An animal tried to get into our chicken coop last night. Napoleon scared it away.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah. Got a couple of shallow scrapes and a hurt wing, but he’ll live.”

“Wow. Knowing that bird, I wish I could see the other guy.”

A loud crow caws from behind the house, and I pull my feet up off the ground. As if that would protect me if Napoleon comes running in defense of his castle.

A small laugh escapes Noah’s pursed lips. He shifts, sneaking a peek at me with his peripheral vision.

I pretend not to notice, just like I do whenever I catch him covertly studying me at school. Geez, it’s freezing out here. A shiver runs through me.

Noah stands abruptly and goes into the house.

My brow furrows in disappointment. I guess being near me was simply too much. He’s still too mad at me to hear what I have to say. Frowning, I make my way down the porch steps, rubbing at my arms in a vain attempt to warm up. The long walk back to Karen’s house will help. I hope.

“Where are you going?”

I whirl at the note of incredulity in the question.

Noah is standing on the top step, jacket on and a blanket draped over one arm.

“You left, so…”

“To get a blanket for you.”

“Oh.” I retake the chair, acutely aware of the strain between us. Noah’s even more withdrawn than he usually is at school. Maybe it’s because when we’re there at least he has class work to focus on.

Careful not to touch my shoulders, he wraps the thick afghan around me. I tuck it under my chin and let the warm cover hang down over my legs.

“Better?”

“So much. Thanks.”

Noah’s eyes catch mine and linger there for a beat. I hold perfectly still in the hopes that he’ll forget he’s mad at me long enough to let me explain. Just as I open my mouth, he blurts, “You look different without the scar.”

Surprised, I cover my newly-bare cheek with one icy hand. “It’s weird not seeing it when I look in the mirror. This might sound… strange, but I kind of miss it. Having that scar made it easy for me to blend in with my sister, but without it. I can’t hide anymore. When people look at me, they see Audrey. Not Taryn. It’s not something I’m used to.”

“You were hiding?”

I nod, eyes on the wooden slats under my shoes.

“You could keep wearing it, but you shouldn’t hide who you are.”

Biting my lip, I meet his look again. “I don’t want to anymore. If I’ve learned anything from all of this, it’s that before, it was the hiding that made me feel like my parents—like everyone—overlooked me. But it was my own fault. I let Taryn shine while I faded into the background. But over the past few months, I’ve figured out that it doesn’t have to be one or the other. Taryn and I can both shine in the same space. Just look at what happened with her and Esau. Even with only spending half his time with her, he fell for her. And you—” I stop, my cheeks flushing red, not from the cold. “What I’m trying to say is that my sister and I are pretty different, and that’s okay. We don’t have to be the same. We can love what we love and still be close. She listens to me talking about orchids and I help her brainstorm ideas for drama club. It’s the give and take that makes us work. I forgot that once. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Noah runs a hand through his curls. “All of that’s great. Really, Audrey. I’m glad you’re finding yourself again. But why are you here?”

“Right.” I ignore the pangs of hurt that ripple over my heart as I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. Opening the photo app, my fingers hover over the last image. One I took this morning, in a room buzzing with activity and bad fluorescent lighting.

“You remember that green and yellow sweatband you showed me once? The one you wore on your wrist when you were younger? You said your brother was wearing the other one when he, you know.”

“What about it?”

Turning my phone toward him, I wait.

Noah stares at the image of a green and yellow sweatband covered in blood for so long that my arm starts to ache, but I don’t move. We’re done with our art project, so once I give him this one last thing—something he deserves so much—I’ll leave him alone.

Noah’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, pulling his eyes from the screen to my face. “Where, where did you see it? I spent so many hours crawling around in the dirt behind the gas station looking for it, but I never—It wasn’t there.”

“Sheriff Lamb had me at the station this morning looking through photos of some of the items they found in the Baugh house. Albert Baugh, he, he kept trinkets as mementos of each of his kills. They wanted