Honestly, Noah was glad. He wasn't enthusiastic, because, just no, but he was glad, a little heartbroken and confused, but mostly happy because he never dreamed that he would get to ...interact with the girl again. There had been so many things he meant to say to her - that he still wanted to, and this was his chance.
Except for the teenage intrusion. Sure, she was the instrument through which he and Macy could communicate and without her, there would be no chance, but Noah couldn't help but feel... weird about talking to her to talk to Macy. And so, he looked on impassively and smoked his cigarette.
Apparently, Macy's ghost was informing Presley of something, because the girl went silent and then stared forlornly into the air by her side like a crazy person. Noah rolled his eyes and began to just look around the street, because what else was he going to do?
Finally, when the girl turned back to him, he raised his eyebrows. He considered the question, rubbing his chin with the hand that held his cigarette.
"Thanks, I suppose. Though I didn't save her. She would've lived," he said to the empty space in front of him with a helpless shrug. He exhaled smoke through his nose. "Anyway, I'm fine. My foot hurts like a motherfucker at times, but I'm fine."
He glanced at Presley, then back to the air. And because he couldn't say what he wanted to say, he tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot heel.