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Even I would believe her, if I didn’t know it was a lie.
She was scared of our past, of that night. The reminder and the pain it carries.
“Now, Nate, you need to remember these details,” Nancy says and it pisses me off.
“Easy enough since it’s all true,” I snap back at her. They think it’s a lie? A charade? I don’t care.
The only thing I care about is the fact that she’s hurting and I’ve been ignoring it.
There’s one person who could destroy me and she’s the one I’m giving everything to.
Chapter 18
Harlow
Ten years ago
April 12
* * *
Nina’s is an old mom and pop type place on the corner. It’s a little Italian restaurant on Fourth Street, small and right on the edge of the rough part of town, but it’s where we used to go on Fridays. They had five dollar pizzas and dollar drinks. It was cheap and a habit we got into.
It’s also where we were when it started, when I decided to be an idiot. Really, I just wanted to piss him off. I think that’s what kids do when they’re in love and hurt. They lash out. I know better now, or at least I like to pretend I do. But back then, I just wanted him to regret throwing away what we had. It was foolish and it’s why I think it was all my fault.
* * *
“I want to tell my parents,” I tell him again. I swear he’s ignoring me, and it’s pissing me off. He knows how important this is to me. It’s eating me alive.
We had sex. We’ve really been having sex regularly. Every time I see him. Every fight we get into. All I want to do is kiss him and then more.
Last night was my breaking point. I sneaked out and met Nathan at the corner store. He didn’t hesitate to buy the box of condoms, even with me standing right there. I held his hand with both of mine and tried to pretend it was okay, but it wasn’t.
Miss Andrews was at the register and she knows my mother by first name. I don’t want my parents to find out because of someone else. Instead of bringing it up last night, we fought about him buying the condoms and then used them in the backseat of his car.
Some backbone I have.
I have to admit; I like it though. I like people knowing. I like him having me whenever he wants. Wherever he wants. Even if that makes me dirty. But I don’t want people to think of me that way and definitely not my parents. I can’t have them finding out from someone else.
“Then tell them,” he answers me, but he doesn’t elaborate.
“Are you coming with me?” I ask him. I don’t want to do it alone. I’m practically terrified. I think they already know though, but I’m not sure.
“Fuck no,” Nathan says and looks back at me like I’m crazy.
“Well, I don’t want to do it alone.” I try not to raise my voice, but I do. It makes my heart beat faster thinking someone heard. I look over my shoulder from our booth in the corner but no one’s looking at us. The only other people in here are a few guys who just got off work at the steel mill, or maybe they’re on their break, I don’t know. But they’re all in the opposite booth and the one right next to it. Dirty boots and the thick jackets with Stanley’s Steel logos give away who they are.
“You don’t need me there,” Nathan says and then wipes pizza sauce from his hand with a thin napkin. He balls up the napkin as I answer, “I do. I want you there.” I try to put as much sincerity as I can into my tone.
“That’s not happening,” he tells me as though it’s final.
“Because you don’t want to and what I want doesn’t matter?” I ask him with nothing but venom.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” Nathan tells me, brushing me off. He makes me feel like I’m the crazy one.
“Is it that big of a deal to be by my side when I tell them?” I ask him desperately. Nathan looks at me for a moment like he’s considering what to say, but then he just looks out of the window as a car passes, completely distracted and not actually participating. That’s all I want; is it that unreasonable?
“So what?” I ask him, throwing my hands into the air and leaning back against the booth. The cheap vinyl squeaks and protests. I hate this little restaurant. The tables are cheap; the flooring is peeling.
“So, drop it.”
I flinch at his blunt response. I don’t like living like this, feeling as though I’m lying.
“They don’t even know we’re dating, let alone how serious it is,” I tell him as if it’s a confession. It really is, for me. I feel guilty and just want it off my chest.
