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“Of course.”
He doesn’t elaborate.
“And…?” I pry. “Did you take her to a dance? The drive-in?”
Nick shakes his head, looks down at his hands. “Her parents got wind of it, told her she couldn’t date me because of my dad’s reputation.”
“Forbidden romance?” I say, wincing but trying to find the silver lining. “Secrets from parents are awesome at that age.”
He laughs ruefully. “That’s what we thought too. But then my old man found out about it and he set me straight.”
“How’s that?”
“That she’d keep me on the side until she found a guy who wasn’t trash who she could take home to her parents.”
Nick tries to keep his tone light and fails miserably. My stomach clenches at the horrible words, heard and retained at such an impressionable age.
“You weren’t trash,” I say.
“Wanna bet?” he asks, now with a bit of real mirth in his voice.
“You’re the only one who can put that label on yourself,” I say. “Look at Brent.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Don’t blame you. But he and his family have a ton of money, so do all of their friends. And they have no redeeming qualities. Only they cheat people legally, and the crimes they do commit are cleared up with a phone call.”
“Tell me again what you saw in him?”
The question might have sounded off-hand in his head but once voiced it sits heavily between us. I hesitate, and Nick hurries to say, “You don’t have to explain yourself. It… came out wrong.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “Honestly, I’ve been asking myself that a lot recently.”
“He’s not bad-looking,” Nick tries.
“It wasn’t that,” I say quickly. “Though I appreciate you trying to give me an out. Believe it or not, that really doesn’t matter that much to me.”
“I believe it,” he says.
“I guess, looking back, I just got complacent,” I say. “I was in a bubble, a bubble of yuppies with rich parents who all told me over and over again that a guy like Brent is who I should want. All through college the girls I knew were rabid about guys like him and when I met Brent people treated me like I struck gold. I wasn’t really that happy but then none of the people I knew were really that happy, so I figured that was just life.”
“And now?” Nick asks.
“Now I realize how little I was really living,” I say. “And how wrong I was about what friendship is. And love.”
The words slip out of my mouth and I wish I could grab them and shove them back down my throat before they reach Nick’s ears. Sadly I don’t have that power. Nick stiffens. It would be imperceptible to the naked eye, but I’m resting against him and all those powerful muscles in his body constrict.
I feel my face flush. “I’m sorry,” I say, sitting up.
Nick is looking at me oddly, probably with no idea what to say. How could I drop the “L” word so quickly?! We’ve only been sleeping together a week! We haven’t gotten along for most of the time we’ve known each other. He probably thinks I’m one of those people who doesn’t know the value of the word, who drops it on every guy’s doorstep like a goddamn UPS worker.
I stand quickly, suddenly overwhelmed by the noise of the music.
“Evie—” Nick starts, but I’m already hurrying away. The plane has long since taken off and there’s nowhere else to run other than behind the curtain. I dive behind it without caring what I might stumble upon.
I immediately wish I hadn’t. Because standing there, in the little hall, are Brent and Cheryl. He looks pissed. She’s crying. Neither are happy to see me.
Before I can turn around and run, Brent beats me to the punch. He pushes past me and back out into the party. All thoughts of Nick forgotten, I long to follow him. But before I can turn around, my pity gets the better of me.
