“Yeah, I was about to. I wanted to see if you were ready to go, too. It’s a nice day for a walk.”
I hesitated, for more than one reason. We all lived fairly close to the high school, but what was easy walking distance for me wasn’t necessarily the same for Nate. I couldn’t bring that up in front of Jake, though. Nate was sensitive enough about how other guys saw him; the last thing I needed to do was coddle him in front of an audience.
I had a more selfish angle, too, though. I’d planned on spending at least another hour here in the newspaper office, maybe brainstorming for my next opinion piece and just hanging out with Jake and anyone else who happened to wander in. These weremypeople, my friends. One of the benefits of Nate getting involved in crew was that it freed me to do my own thing for the first time in ... well, ever. I didn’t have to feel guilty about leaving him out. And I liked that.
Jake must have misinterpreted the reason that I didn’t respond immediately to Nate. He gave my rolling chair a little kick, knocking my feet off the desk.
“Nothing’s happening here, Q. Go on home for now. Probably better you stay out of Trish’s orbit anyway. At least until she cools down.”
I heaved a deep sigh. “Fine. But I want a shot at that article on tenure for teachers. I can think of more than a few in this school who’re only still here because the union protects them.”
“Q, that’s going to be straightforward report. No bias allowed. Remember? That’s only way Ms. Nelson would okay it.”
“Bias? Me?” I stood up and fluttered my eyelids in feigned innocence. “I am all about the journalistic integrity and impartiality. You know that.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Get the hell out of here, would you? I’ll make sure you’re in the running.”
“Fine.” I stuck out my tongue at our editor-in-chief as I scooped my books. “See you tomorrow, Jake.”
“Later, Q. Bye, Nate.”
Nate answered only with a curt nod, letting me pass him through the doorway before he slowly pushed off and walked alongside.
“You need to stop at your locker?” His tone when it was just the two of us was much gentler, less defensive.
“Nope. I’m good.”
We walked toward the side doors of the school, both of us silent. I slowed my steps to accommodate Nate’s, as I always had. Anyone watching us might think we were a typical couple, taking our time as we meandered down the hall, but I could still see the slight stutter and the occasional jerkiness of Nate’s gait.
As soon as we were outside, on the sidewalk, Nate glanced down at me. “Want me to carry your books?”
“No.” I brushed up against him, not quite shoving into his side, but almost. “I’m a strong, independent young woman, Nate. I carry my own damn books.”
“Nice. I was just offering. Being a gentleman.” He grinned, shaking his head.
“Duly noted and appreciated, but no, thanks.” I stepped onto a cluster of acorns, relishing the satisfying crunch beneath the rubber sole of my sneaker. “The trees are so pretty, aren’t they? If only they could stay like this and not fall. I hate winter, when they all look so dead.”
A shadow passed over Nate’s face. “Yeah, me too. But then spring comes. You just have to hold on long enough to get through the winter.”
“I guess. Still. I’d be okay if we went right from fall to spring, with maybe a little bit of snow just on Christmas day.”
“Customized weather, huh? Someone should get working on that.” He kicked a pile of dried leaves. “Quinn, what happened with Trish?”
“Oh.” A strand of my brown hair fell over my eyes, and I blew up a breath to brush it away. “It really wasn’t anything. She didn’t like what I wrote, and she tried to intimidate me. That was it.”
“She just backed down?” Nate, all too familiar with the ways of bullies, sounded skeptical. “Really?”
“Well ... no. It might’ve been worse, but Leo showed up and got her to leave.” I tried to keep my own frustration out of my words, but it was impossible, especially when I was with Nate. He was the only other person who truly understood what it was like to see one of our best friends—the third in our Trio—change so much that he was more like a stranger these days.
“What didLeodo?”
I didn’t miss the heavy irony. Nate’s resentment of Leo was even greater than mine; on the rare occasions I was around both of them, I felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war.
“Oh, he just sort of diffused the situation. Told Trish to cease and desist.” I paused, wondering how much more I should share with Nate. “And then he basically told me that I was wrong for having written that op-ed piece.”
“So it’s your fault that Trish attacked you?” Nate shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other, and I noticed tiny beads of sweat on his upper lip. I must’ve been walking too fast without realizing it. I gradually slowed my steps.
“He didn’t come out and say that, but that’s the way I took it. I might’ve gotten a little pissy with him. I think I hurt his feelings.”
