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" Noah uses his thumbs to gently wipe the tears away from under my eyes. Then, he lifts up the hem of his shirt, wiping under my nose as he pushes my hair off my face. “It doesn’t matter,” he replies, working on making me not such a disaster. But I already see it in his eyes. The sadness. “Noah,” I say, bringing my hand up onto his to stop him. He keeps his hand on my jaw, looking at me. He presses his lips together, his brown eyes getting glossy. “I’m trying not to think about it. Spending time with you, Harry, Mohammad, I’m happy. I want to enjoy that time, not be sad during it.” “Doesn’t it make it almost … bittersweet?” I ask, trying to figure out how he’s feeling. “No. It feels special.” “But she’s right, Noah. I will have to leave,” I breathe out the words, feeling my stomach twist as I say them. Noah sucks in his cheeks, his expression becoming hardened. “I know.” “And how does that make you feel?” I ask as more tears escape. Noah shakes his head, a tear slipping from his own eye. And I instantly feel my lips start to quiver. “Don’t cry,” I urge, my hands touching Noah’s creamy complexion. “It’s okay,” he says, his lips pulling to the side. “I don’t have an answer for you. I just want to experience now, now,” he says, his eyes searching my face. "
― Jillian Dodd , The Boys' Club (London Prep #2)
