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Having Purdy show up in his life again, after what felt to him like a second failure—not the getting shot, but what happened afterward, the crawling back to Cooper Springs with nothing to show for himself—was rubbing salt in the wound.
Nick was tired to the bone.
The therapist he’d seen for all of four sessions claimed Nick used anger to protect himself, then had suggested he try thinking about times he’d been happy and holding onto that feeling, even if it was just for a few minutes.
She hadn’t been impressed with his answer, and he hadn’t gone back. But maybe she had a point. Why was it easier to hold on to anger than happiness? Was he somehow broken?
As always, Liam dragged him out of his morose thoughts. “The one what? Or who, rather?” he asked.
“He’s the one whose class I was failing before—you know.”
Before Nick had fled the country to avoid the wrath of his parents and the mockery of people he’d thought were his friends. Except for Liam, who truly was a friend.
“Oooh.”Dawning understanding had Liam nodding his head.
They all stared across the room. Martin had taken his coat off and draped it over one arm. He was talking to Rufus, who laughed and took his coat, hanging it along with several others on a wall hook near the end of the bar.
“Did you ever talk to him back in the day?” Liam asked.
Nick shook his head. “Why? There was no point. I was done.”
“Mm-hmm. Nick, I’ve known you a long time. Almost all my life.” The gleam in Liam’s agate green eyes made Nick wary. Liam may not have gone to Harvard, but he was damn smart. “I’ve known you to overreact, jump to conclusions.” He raised a hand to keep Nick from arguing. “I just think it would be odd for a teacher to just email you that you were going to fail his class, so, hey, give up.”
It had been over twelve years, but Nick had The Email memorized. Nightmares—the only dreams he had—always had a slow scene where he was innocently checking his school inbox only to see the doom-laden wordfailing.Some people dreamed about forgetting their locker combination; Nick had nightmares about an email.
“Maybe he’d been trying to help,” Liam suggested. “Maybe he’d sent the email so you could find tutoring or something?”
“I seriously doubt it,” Nick scoffed, even as he wondered to himself if that had been the case. “Besides, my parents wouldn’t have cared and wouldn’t have paid for tutoring anyway, you know that.” His parents had made it clear from the very beginning that failure was not an option.
Michael and Jerri Waugh did not suffer fools and had spent Nick’s childhood bemoaning the fact that they’d had a fool for a son. Their only son. Their only child. Who should have been perfect because he was their spawn. Instead, he was horribly imperfect and a constant source of embarrassment.
After Nick graduated from high school, they’d moved across the country to Florida where Nick’s aunt and uncle lived, as if knowing he was going to fail college and needing to distance themselves from his humiliation. Or, alternatively, as if they couldn’t wait to separate their existence from his.
Magnus approached the booth, carrying three pints of beer. Without disrupting the conversation, he set one down in front of each of them and departed.
“Thanks for the beer,” Nick said.
“Magnus is buying tonight,” Silas said quietly. “He better not expect me to fix all the cars in town for free.”
Nick eyed Silas. Was that a joke? It was hard to tell with him.
“I’ve always wondered why your parents ever had a kid,” Liam began, obviously not ready to just drop the damn subject.
“Hell if I know,” Nick grumbled. “They must’ve thought it was their duty, something you did when you got married.”
“Remember that one time when I stayed over?” Liam glanced across the table at Silas. “Seriously, the only time I ever stayed over. We were downstairs messing around. All of a sudden, this disembodied voice comes out of nowhere. ‘Nicholas, it’s time to come upstairs to tell your father goodnight.’ Nick’s folks had intercoms installed so they wouldn’t have to make the trip downstairs or anywhere. If they wanted him, they summoned him through this thing. I dunno, it really bugged me.”
Nick nodded; he’d hated being summoned by the intercoms.
“So, I don’t know if I ever told you, Nick. I followed after you but stopped at the top of the stairs. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve been as weirded-out before or since.” Liam glanced over at Silas. “Nick’s dad had this whacked-out throne-like chair. He waved for Nick to come close like he was king and Nick was a… a mere supplicant. Nick had to stand in front of him and say goodnight, then kiss him on the cheek. His dad asked a few questions, then Nick kissed his mother on the cheek. I snuck back downstairs, and you showed up a few minutes later.”
Huh. Liam had never told him this. It explained why they always hung out at Liam’s house after that.
“They didn’t kiss him back or even hug him,” Liam continued. “Fucking creepy as hell.”
Nick agreed with Liam, but he hadn’t known any better at the time. Now he knew that most parents did not summon their children like they were servants.
“I didn’t know you saw that. But yeah, that’s just one reason why staying at your place was so much better.”
