“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck.
I turn around and walk back toward the house as he gets in his car. I need a second before facing my ma and her questions. Her happiness over Nate being here.
Nate just got lucky. Anybody would find it hard to fuckup if they had an Ivy League education all paid for and enough extracurriculars to distract them from drugs and whatever other vices people get into. And a rich, well-connected stepdad to bail him out of trouble whenever he did fuck up. Like last time.
I take a deep breath before going into the house. Ma’s putting the salad away and I help her.
“He’s already being a good influence on you.”
“Stop it, Ma.”
“What?”
“I know you like Nate, but he’s not gonna be coming round here often.”
She makes a big deal of fluffing a pack of lettuce. “Why not?”
“He’s only here as a favor to you and because he feels sorry for me.”
She turns with the lettuce. “You don’t know that,” she says, putting it in the fridge. Under the light, I notice her nose is red and I wonder if she was crying in the car before she came into the house.
“Did you know Nate went to see Dad in the hospital?”
She nods. “He was there a few times, yeah. Why?”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
She bristles. “I thought he would have told you himself. I had my mind on other things.”
I drop my head. “‘Course, sorry.”
“He’s a nice boy.” She sighs. “I’d like you to be friends with him.”
“Instead of my friends?”
There’s a beat before she answers. “You know what I think of them. They’re losers, Ev.”
“Maybe I’m a loser?”
She scrunches her face up and I’m sorry I saidanything.
“You are not a loser. You have a job, and if you wanted, you could get your GED and go to college. Those idiots don’t have two braincells to rub together.”
I snort. Ma runs her hand over my shaved head and studies me until I drop my eyes. “You used to have beautiful hair.”
“Like pretty boy Nate?” My face gets hot.
I meant to say preppy boy, not pretty boy.
“Not like Nate. Like you.”
I go up to my room and flop down on the bed.
Pretty boy Nate.That little slip of the tongue keeps running through my head. How many times did I rub one out over Nate when we were younger? He was always the kind of ‘cute’ girls would lose their shit over, but he wasn’t vain about it. It was like he didn’t even notice.
I always told myself my little crush on him when we were kids was due solely to the fact he was the boy I was closest to when I started having thoughts like that. Not because of him. Seeing him today, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be into him if I passed him on the street. But I’d never sleep with someone like him. He’s too perfect. I don’t fuck people who can judge me.
I get a text from Adam.
