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I grabbed my peach sundae and chose a seat as far away from anyone as I could. I didn’t do crowds real well, so for the hundredth time, I asked myself why I had let Gram manipulate me into this evening with Nathan.
Nathan followed and slid into the chair opposite me and smiled at some girl who shouted at him from the cotton candy stand.
I filled my mouth with way too much sugar and glanced over to the girl who held hands with a boy as they walked by. Her eyes lingered on me for several seconds, and then she whispered something into her boyfriend’s ear. He turned, nodded at Nathan, and then stared at me for so long I raised an eyebrow and stared right back.
He smiled.
She yanked on her boyfriend’s arm and pulled him toward the midway, but not before she got her bitch on, raised her eyebrows in return, and flipped me a mental bird.
I smirked and shoved another spoonful of sundae into my mouth. I wanted her to know that her attitude didn’t bother me.
But it did. And that was something new too. What the hell?
“Why are you here?” Nathan asked as he scooped a good amount of peaches and whipped cream into his mouth.
“Um, because Gram made me?”
His blue eyes settled on me, and there was nowhere to hide. He sat back in his chair and studied me intently, his eyes so clear they reminded me of the summer sky. For a moment, I forgot that I didn’t like him.
He grinned, and I glanced down at my dessert, exhaling hard as a rush of heat rolled through me.
“That’s not what I meant. Why are you here in Louisiana with your grandmother?”
Panic hit me—it froze everything inside me—but then I did what I always did. I deflected.
“Why was your driver’s license suspended?”
His smile disappeared, and his eyes narrowed in a way that told me everything. His shoulders hunched forward and he frowned.
“Is this what we’re going to do? Play a stupid game?” He paused and then pushed his sundae away.
I watched him in silence, and though the last thing I wanted to do was eat, I shoved another spoonful of the melting crap into my mouth. At least this way, I couldn’t open it and make things worse.
Another shout of “Hey Nate,” slid between us, but he didn’t bother to look up—he just stared down at the table like it was the most interesting thing in the world. I forced myself to swallow the ice cream—it was either
that or puke—and then I pushed my bowl away as well.
I was about to apologize, something I didn’t do much of these days, but when I opened my mouth to speak, he glanced up, and the words I was about to say, two simple little words, I’m sorry, died in my throat.
Nathan Everets looked exactly the way I felt most of the time. He looked haunted. Sort of…broken.
He pushed a long strand of hair off his face, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can’t drive because I was involved in an accident three months ago. A bad one.”
“Oh,” I managed to get out. “Look, you don’t have to…” Shit, I didn’t want to do this with him. I didn’t want him to share with me, because then he’d expect me to share back, and there was no way in hell I wanted anyone to know anything about me. Period.
I couldn’t talk about Malcolm. I couldn’t.
“I left a party with my best friend, Trevor, and our girlfriends.”
And yet I was helpless to stop him. Helpless to look anywhere other than into his eyes, because for some reason, the pain that I saw there let me know I wasn’t the only one…
I wasn’t the only one who hated herself.
Nathan shook his head, and that piece of hair fell back across his cheek. I found myself focusing on it, watching as it lifted in the slight breeze and tickled the edge of his nose.
“I don’t remember driving. I don’t remember getting into the car.” He leaned forward now, his voice louder. Angrier. “That’s how incredibly stupid I was. Me. The guy who was supposed to stay sober. Clean.”
“I drove Trevor’s car down State Route 9, and somewhere between the party and the old Dixon farm, I wrapped it around a hydro pole.”
