Page 65 of I Wish You All the Best

Nathan pulls his hand back, going to the empty spot on the railing beside me. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just …” Just can’t get a complete thought from my brain to my mouth.

“Was it the stuff you drank? Do you need some water?”

I shake my head way too fast. “Wasn’t the drinks.” My chest heaves for a second. I’m fighting a losing battle here.

“Are you sure? Can you move?”

“Just give me a minute, please?”

“Sure, yeah.” He backs away.

Fucking breathe, just breathe. I close my eyes, pressing my hands to my forehead. Don’t cry, don’t cry. I feel that familiar heat behind my eyes, and that ache in my jaw.

I finally manage to spit out something. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, just take your time.”

“Can we go?”

“Yeah, of course.” He reaches for me again but stops short. “Can I touch you?”

I nod. “Sorry, I just—”

“No, it’s all right. Come on.”

The hand on my back doesn’t make me want to gag anymore. In fact, I’m certain that Nathan is doing most of the work as he walks me back to his car, even going so far as to open the door for me.

“Thanks,” I say, hoping he won’t try to buckle my seat belt for me. I can only stand so much humiliation in one night.

He climbs into the driver’s seat, totally silent, the car roaring to life as he turns the ignition and slides it into reverse.

“Mel and Sophie?” I ask.

“They’re staying a little longer. I told them I’d get you home.” He braces his hand against the back of my headrest so he can see behind us.

“Oh.” Goddammit. I fucked up. Big-time. Nathan speeds down the dirt road wordlessly, not even the radio to fill the void between us. One of us has to talk, someone has to say something, and I know it won’t be me.

I’m not that brave right now.

I sneak glances at him out of the corner of my eye. He doesn’t look mad, but then again, he’s Mr. Positive, so I’m not even sure he has it in him to be more than mildly frustrated.

“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He still smiles, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Sorry.” I shut my eyes, only opening them again to watch the dark trees we drive past.

“I mean, I know I’m handsome and all, but seriously, if you’d rather have a picture, that’s cool too.”

I pick at the jeans covering my knees, the tight fabric that feels more suffocating now than anything else. “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I’m …” I deny my automatic reaction.

“Ben, man, are you okay? I mean, I know you can’t be after all that, but like, I’m worried, dude.”

“Don’t be,” I say. I feel so close to that edge, and it hurts that Nathan is the one pushing me closer.

“Why? I’m your friend. I have a right to be worried, don’t you think?”