Nate scoffed. “Yeah, I doubt that. I know you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, Quinn, but Leo hasn’t had feelings for a long time when it comes to us. He always looks at me like I’m ... I don’t know. The old teddy bear his mom refuses to throw away. Like he’s outgrown me.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” The mad that had carried me after I’d turned my back on Leo was giving way to hurt. Misery was a band around my heart, squeezing until I felt like I was going to cry. I kept seeing Leo’s face when we were arguing in the hallway. His expression had been almost one of ... pity. Maybe Nate was right. But admitting that to myself was excruciating, since apparently some small part of me had been clinging to the belief that some day, Leo was going to fall in love with me. He was going to see me the same way I saw him, and he would realize that we really were meant to be together.
That faith was beginning to waver, though. It died a little each time I saw Leo walk off the football field with his arm around one cheerleader or another, and when I heard stories passed around school about how Leo the Lion—that was his nickname on the team—was more accurately Leo the Lover.
“You don’t want to see it, but that’s the way he acts. When you’re around, it’s not so bad, but when you’re not, he ignores me. Or worse.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know whatworsemeant. Fortunately, we’d just reached my house, and I turned down my front walk. “Come on. Let’s sit down for a minute.”
Kicking the leaves from the brick step at the edge of the porch, I sank down, dropping my books onto the ground next to me. Nate took a minute to hook his backpack on the railing, and I turned my back on him for a moment, pretending to check one of my notebooks, intentionally giving him some privacy as he joined me. Going from standing to sitting and back again was always a little bit of a process for Nate, and I knew it embarrassed him for me to sit gawking while he made it happen.
Once I heard him exhale loudly, I knew it was my cue to shift attention back to him. I picked up the thread of our conversation while delicately skirting what he’d said last. “Nate, I’m not defending Leo. I think the way he treats us is shitty. I’m just saying, I don’t think he actually realizes it sometimes. He looked genuinely surprised and hurt today when I said he didn’t know me anymore.”
“You said that to him?” Nate sounded both surprised and pleased.
“Yep.” The errant strand of hair fell into my face again, but before I could blow it out of the way, Nate reached over and gently tucked it behind my ear. He trailed one finger over my jaw, just barely skimming the skin. I froze, painfully aware of how close he was sitting to me and the brush of his breath on my neck.
It was getting more and more difficult to ignore the hints Nate dropped about his feelings toward me. More than once, he’d acted as though we were already a couple. Even this afternoon, when he’d stopped at the newspaper office, there had been an air of possessiveness that transcended our reality—that we were best friends, and nothing else. But until Nate actually made a move, I couldn’t very well tell him I didn’t feel the same way about him. And I didn’t want to hurt him—the very thought of that made my stomach clench and roll.
So I fell back onto my old stand-by: ignore and deflect. With a half-laugh that sounded forced even to my own ears, I ran both hands over the top of my head, pulling back my hair and holding it in ponytail form.
“God, I swear, this hair drives me nuts. I should just cut it all off.”
“No way.” Nate shifted back, and if there was disappointment on his face, I chose to ignore it. “Your hair is so pretty.”
“Oh, you’re sweet, Nate.” I rolled a hair band off my wrist and secured it over my hair. “Don’t worry. I don’t think I could ever get rid of it. I just like to complain about how much it bugs me.” I tightened the band and then scooted over just a little, so I could swivel and bend up my knee as I faced Nate.
“Listen, I know Leo’s said and done some things that hurt you. And me, too. I’m not sticking up for him, but I’m not willing to make him our enemy either. We have too much history, the three of us. When I look at him, I try to see that boy instead of the football star. You know?”
Nate shrugged, but his eyes never left my face. “It always was easier for you to forgive Leo. You’ve always been willing to think the best of him.”
“I’d do the same for you.” I covered his hand where it rested on the warm brick of the porch.
“I’d never put you in a position where you’d have to do that.” Nate pushed himself to his feet, teetering just slightly. He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow, Quinn.”
I watched him walk down the block with his careful precision, never sparing me a backwards glance. I’d thought I was miserable after my spat with Leo at school—and I had been—but now, with both of them unhappy with me, everything in my world felt wrong.
I buried my face in my hands and wished I could turn back time.
