•••
Nathan is waiting with coffees when I arrive at school, begrudgingly fulfilling his portion of our coffee-fetching arrangement. Jana doesn’t take part, typically. Most days she arrives at school late. Nathan says she’s late to everything they do, although it doesn’t bother him that much.
I stop at the top of the stone staircase at the entrance of the building, surveying the front yard of the school, and hold out my hand. Nathan places a vanilla latte in it.
“Did you see Miller Ave. was flooded?” he asks casually. “Because I nearly died.”
I look sideways at him. “I noticed it last night,” I say.
“I wondered where you were going,” he says, taking a sip of his steaming coffee. He meets my eyes, acknowledging that he knows I snuck out. “Probably wasn’t wise to go out into a thunderstorm,” he adds.
“It definitely wasn’t,” I agree. “But you know me, queen of bad decisions.” I blow on my latte, testing a sip.
“I’m assuming it had to do with Wes?”
“You assume correctly. We watched a few movies together.”
“Sounds sweet. Was it a date? Did you tell him that you used to date?” Nathan questions me like it’s any other conversation, even though we both know it’s not. I was stupid. But at least I’m acknowledging it, which I’m sure comforts him.
“No,” I say. “We agreed to be friends. Besides, Dr. McKee warned me not to get involved romantically, remember? I’m sure he has my best interests in mind.” We exchange a pointed look, and a cool breeze blows open my jacket. I pull it closed around me.
Nathan takes his time as he drinks his coffee. “In theory,” he says, “I support the doctor’s decision, but, in actuality, he either didn’t know or didn’t tell you about your time in The Program. One makes him incompetent. The other makes him a monster.”
“Wait, are you saying I shouldn’t take his advice?” I ask.
“I’m saying I don’t know,” Nathan responds. “I’m not going to rely on his word. And you know how hard it is for me to admit that you mightactuallybelong with Wes.”
He laughs, but I don’t join him. He turns to see why, and I feel tears sting my eyes. I quickly blink them away. “I remembered,” I say.
“Remembered what?”
“What happened that night,” I say. “After I left your house, I went to Wes’s, and I cussed at his mother.”
Nathan takes a casual sip of his drink, then, as if he misheard: “I’m sorry. What?”
“I remember going there,” I say. “I knew about Wes and Kyle, and I went there to beg him...” I stop, too embarrassed to explain it. I wish I had been stronger. Braver. But I can’t change the past. Apparently, it can be rewritten, though.
“I went there to talk to him,” I say self-consciously, “but Mrs. Ambrose called The Program on me because I was unwell. She told me to stay away from Wes. And now that I know, now that I’ve relived it... I think she’s right about us not belonging together.” I shrug one shoulder, miserable. “So I’ve let him go, Nathan. Wes and I are over.”
Nathan swallows hard. “That’s probably the biggest lie you’ve ever said to my face.”
“Not true,” I say, sniffling. “There was also the Adjustment.”
“Shit, you’re right,” he says with a sad smile, and when the moment goes on too long, he pulls me into a fierce hug. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says, finally acknowledging the gravity of my statement.
“So, that was my night,” I add when I pull back. He whispers again that he’s sorry.
“Will you come with me to the Adjustment office later?” I ask. “I need to confront Dr. McKee.”
I expect Nathan to point out this is a dangerous idea, but he doesn’t. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course I’ll go with you.”
I thank him, and we turn to stare across the front lawn of the school. On the grass, there are a few guys playing Frisbee, flinging it with full force, even this early in the morning. Nathan says he admires their commitment to looking douchey despite the hour.
“Not to change the subject,” Nathan says, drawing my attention. “Did you finish your essay?”
“Essay?”
“Damn,” he says. “I was planning on copying yours.” He hikes his backpack higher up on his shoulder. “First hour. We should get in there and write it before Miss Soto arrives. At least tell me you read the book.”
