Chapter Twenty-Two
West
No one beyond my dad, Matt, and Charlie knew about my hideaway in the shed. Being here with Nina felt right. I wasn’t embarrassed about it like I probably should have been. The fact that she just accepted it—accepted me—made my world a brighter place.
We kissed for a while and then she pulled away. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright. “Thanks for sharing this with me.” She looked past me toward the bookshelf. “Is that what I think it is?”
I knew exactly what she was talking about. Reaching over I snagged my copy of Harry Potter. “It is.” I held it out to her. The rain sounded like it was still coming down in sheets. “Do you want to read it?”
“We could read it together,” she said.
“How?”
“We could sit here, like this.” She scooted closer. “Put your arm around my shoulder, and I’ll hold the book so we can both see it.”
I almost made fun of the idea, but vulnerability shone in Nina’s eyes, like she knew she was taking a chance. “Okay.”
She snuggled against me, and I inhaled her apple-mint shampoo smell.
“Ready?” she asked.
“What if we read at different speeds?” I asked.
“Like most things in life, we’ll figure it out as we go along,” she said. “Or we could take turns reading out loud.”
No one had read aloud to me in forever. The idea made me smile. “Okay. You start.”
Nina read, and I found myself listening to the way she said the words, rather than what she was saying. She threw herself into the story, totally immersing herself in that world. She paused and glanced at my face. “What?”
I shrugged. “Nothing…you’re good at this.”
“At reading out loud?” She seemed to doubt my sincerity.
“Yes.” And that was the nerdiest compliment I’d ever given anyone.
“If I tell you something,” she said, “do you promise not to laugh at me?”
“You didn’t give me crap about the Ninja Turtles blanket, so you’re good.”
“I think it would be cool to be a narrator for audiobooks.”
“That would be cool.” I pulled the book from her hands. “But I think it’s time to take a break.”
“A break?” She pretended not to know that I wanted to kiss her. She pointed at the board games. “Are you in the mood for Yahtzee?”
“Not exactly.” I pulled her close. “Guess again.”
“Go Fish?” she said, right before I brushed my lips across hers.
“You’re really bad at guessing,” I teased before I kissed her again. And then we stopped talking. Everything sort of fell into place, like it was natural for us to make out on the love seat during a rainstorm. Like we sort of belonged together. And I needed to stop thinking about this before I freaked myself out.
A little while later, Nina stopped kissing me and tilted her head to the side. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I think the rain stopped.”
I listened. She was right. “Does that mean you want to leave?” It’s not like we were trapped together any longer, but I didn’t want her to go.
In response, she just shook her head. “But I could use a snack. Or we could go to my house for real food, if you want.”
I needed a reason for us not to go to her house, because even though I didn’t want her to leave, going to her house would feel too…domestic or relationship-ish. “I’m in the mood for Italian food. Do you want to go grab a calzone somewhere?”
“Sure. I’ll meet you at your car in twenty minutes.”
My father gave me an odd look when I came in through the back door. “Nina and I are going to grab something to eat.”
Hanging out with Nina was easy, even comfortable. Maybe because she’d told me her family’s secrets, which made me realize all families have issues. I wanted to tell her the truth about my mom, but it didn’t seem like the right time.
And it’s not like I was pretending my family was perfect. She knew it was messed up. She just didn’t know my mom’s illness was psychological rather than physical.
When Nina joined me at my car, she was frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Let’s talk on the way,” she said.
“Okay.” I started my Fusion, and we backed out of the driveway. I waited for her to start talking. At the first stop light we came to, I said, “Should I ask questions or do you need time to think?”
She slid lower in her seat. “Most of the time I can keep a lid on my anger and pretend everything is okay. Then my dad shows up and my self-control goes out the window. My mom can keep her cool around him. I can’t. Even though he’s gone and he probably won’t be back, my house doesn’t feel right anymore. Does that make sense?”
“You’re saying he’s like a skunk that stinks up your house with toxic anger-creating fumes?”
She laughed, which is what I’d been aiming for.
“Yes. Exactly like that.”
Nina seemed more her normal self at the restaurant. We talked about books and television shows we liked. Then the topic of school came up.
“It doesn’t make sense for both of us to drive when we’re going to the same place.” She sipped her coffee and waited for my response.
If I didn’t offer to give her a ride, she probably wouldn’t be interested in kissing me again. So even though it felt like I was being manipulated, I said, “We can ride together if you want.”
“Sure.” She beamed.
Maybe I was finally figuring this girlfriend thing out. Wait a minute. Why had I thought that? She wasn’t my girlfriend. We were just…wait…I had no idea what we were doing. We’d passed the friendship stage, I was sure of that…so I guess we were dating. It’s not like we were not-dating.
Nina pointed at my forehead. “Why are your eyebrows doing that?”
“Doing what?” I reached up to touch my face.
“They were squished together like you were irritated or in deep thought. Are you stressing out about giving me a ride to school?”
“No.” It was much bigger than that. “I was trying to remember if I needed to stop by the store on the way home.”
“I think you need to stock the shed with chocolate Pop-Tarts. The strawberry kind are good, but chocolate are my favorite.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
…
Nina and I fell into a comfortable pattern. I gave her a ride to school every morning and then she went off to her locker to hang out with Lisa while I met up with Charlie and Matt.
“How did you make this happen?” Matt asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I always see guys walking girls to their lockers and hanging out with them rather than hanging with their own friends,” Matt said. “You and Nina don’t do that.”
Huh. We’d never really talked about it. “Maybe because we hang out after school.”
“See,” Matt said. “Dating your neighbor is smart. It creates a less clingy girlfriend.”
There was that word again.
“Dude, did you just flinch?” Charlie asked.
Had I? “Maybe. We haven’t really labeled our…relationship status yet.”
“I’m sure you have,” Charlie said. “You just don’t know it.”
“Have you grown a pair and talked to Clarissa lately?” I asked. “Or do you need Nina to do it for you?”
Matt laughed.
No reason for me to be the lone target.
“At least I’m not sitting on the sidelines trying to wait out someone else’s relationship,” Charlie shot back.
Matt went very still, and I was pretty sure Charlie was about ten seconds from a broken nose.
Instead of exploding, Matt stalked off.
“Charlie, what did you do?” I asked.
He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I messed up.”
“Yes, you did, and good luck with that.” Charlie was always the first to throw a punch, but when Matt was angry he stayed that way for a good long time.
…
Thursday on the drive home from school, Nina’s cell buzzed. She checked it and grinned. Then she looked over at me. “Okay, this may sound like a bad thing, but it’s not.”
“No one has ever said that and meant it,” I joked.
“Well, Lisa and I signed up for an extra-credit project, and you could sign up for it, too.”
“I have an extra-credit project already.”
“Yes, but this is a better option. There are people trying to keep the Hilmer Library open until the new building is finished, and now it’s an option for extra credit.”
Why is she doing this to me? “So, your extra-credit project directly clashes with mine.”
“It’s not like you actually want to turn that old building into a recycling center.”
“Yes. I do.”
“But…isn’t it better to keep the library open and use something else for the recycling center, some place that is already a warehouse?”
I pointed out the obvious. “Recycling centers are good things. They help save the environment.”
“Libraries help people, too.”
“There are other libraries.”
“How can you not see my idea is better?”
“Your argument is invalid. Just because you think it’s a better idea doesn’t mean it’s actually a better idea.” The more I talked about this, the more annoyed I became. “And before you come back at me with another ridiculous argument, just know this is not open to debate.”
We didn’t talk for the rest of the car ride home. She didn’t say good-bye when she climbed out of the car and stalked over to her house.