I ignore him, keep walking.
“Or the movies. Or Frankie’s. Or the beach.”
I stop and the car moves past me before it comes screeching to a halt. He gets out, slamming the door behind him before blocking my way.
“Just stop, Nate.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what. You did what Ma asked. I’m fine. You’re free.”
He keeps looking at me with those fucking Bambi eyes.
“I told you I’m not just here because your mom asked.”
I turn back around, continuing down the sidewalk.
“Evan, wait!”
My heart thuds so hard against my chest it hurts.
I have to fix my face before I turn to face him. “What?”
“I miss you, okay?” He shrugs. “And listen, I know I’m lucky. And maybe I should have asked more questions back then, checked in more. I wish every day I hadn’t just given up on you. And I know you think I fit in at Princeton, but the truth is, I’m half there and half here. And if I don’t fit in here, then …fuck.I don’t know.” He scrubs a hand over his face.
I just stare at him, in his brand new shoes and fucking designer polo. Trying to figure out what to say. Eventually I go with, “Fuck you, Nate.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “What?”
“You don’t get to just come back here and complain about your perfectfucking life.”
Nathan
I watch him turn and walk away from me again and I know, somehow, that if I let him walk away, this time it’ll be it.
“Shit.” I follow him until I’m close enough to grab his arm.
“You wanna know the real reason I stayed away all these years? Why I let you ghost me like that without a fight?”
He spins around, nostrils flaring. “I fucking know why, Nate, you don’t have to say it. I saw you that day on the boardwalk with your fancy friends and I know you saw me. You’re embarrassed to be seen with me. Well, fine, I don’t give a shit. Just go.”
“What are you talking about? What day on the boardwalk?”
“Don’t fucking lie. You saw me.”
“I didn’t, I swear!”
He shakes his head and walks away.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.I can’t let him walk away again. Not now. Not like this. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him until now. How lonely it’s been to always be pretending. Fixing the way I speak. Putting on an act.
“Evan, I didn’t see you. But you’re right, I was embarrassed.”
That stops him dead. His face has dropped when he turns around and I scramble to explain.
“I wasn’t embarrassed by you, I was embarrassed by … how I felt. About you. Why do you think I took that car? I wanted to impress you. I wanted to show you I could be a badass, like you. Like the guys in those games we played.”
He’s staring at me like he wants me to shut the fuck up. But I’ve started now, and at least if he never wants to speakto me again, I’ll know it’s for the right reason. At least I will have had a chance to give him the truth.
