Page 3 of Novice Girlfriend

Did I hate that idea?

Is that cheating on Winter to not even discuss it with him?

Oh good, another reason for him to be mad at me, and this time he would absolutely be valid.

I was lost in my thoughts and didn’t see what was going on until he had what looked like a wine bottle in his hand. I was going to remind him we weren’t old enough to drink, but then I saw the label.

Sparkling grape juice? That was a thing?

Apparently, it was, and they had all sorts of flavors on the display.

“It’s a thing popular for humans to drink around the holidays,” he told me quietly. “I don’t really know why. Maybe for the ones who don’t drink alcohol to still feel festive? I don’t really care because it’s really good and now they have more kinds. I had an apple cranberry last year that I want to find again.”

“That does sound good,” I agreed, looking at the shelf. There was actually one left that I couldn’t reach, hurrying to point it out to him.

He was so cute when excited and quickly grabbed it. Then he patiently showed me how to do the self-checkout. Nigel tried to pay but didn’t make a big deal when I did instead.

Next, we went for fried chicken.

Sparkling fruit juice, fried chicken, and potato wedges…. Sounded much better than a lame college dorm party actually.

He chuckled deeply when I had my first bite and moaned. “I know, right? This was one of my favorite things to do with one of my… Friends.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “I thought you never dated?”

Nigel did a double take with a bit too much hope in his eyes that I ignored.

No, I wasn’t jealous. I just didn’t like people who changed their stories, so it would be an issue to me if he’d lied. I think he realized that because he focused back on his own food.

“He was—it’s complicated. We’re friends, but he wasn’t someone who should have been around the orphanage. Bad influence and all of that.” He snorted and took too big of a bite of his food. “Yeah, the good influences in that place were shit, so give me all the bad ones.” He let out a harsh breath and shook it off.

“What was that place like?” I asked, curious. It was a few weeks before he’d even told me his last name was Jones.

“Another night,” he brushed off. “But we—he’s more like an older cousin. That’s the hesitation. I miss him. Getting to see him all of the time, but you have to do school.” He shrugged and his shoulders were tense.

So clearly, let it go.

Nigel really was a tightly closed book which made me feel awkward at times because he knew so much about me. Like everything was unbalanced?

Then again, what did I know?

Right then, I was just going to take the win that he’d let me in enough to share this part of him. To share his favorite memory even and fun with me.

I figured that was how to be a patient friend—a good friend to someone who had been a good friend to me.

“Thanks for not pushing,” he said when we were done eating. “It’s hard to know—I don’t know how—I’ve never had someone to—”

“Me too,” I offered when it was clear he was struggling. “It’s just…”

“What? Please tell me,” he pushed.

So I did. I told him that our knowledge of each other being so unbalanced left me a bit unbalanced with him. But I valued him and he’d been a really good friend to me.

“Friend, yeah,” he whispered, bobbing his head.

I swallowed loudly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply this was a date. I thought we were—I’m sorry.”

“No, that was me,” he admitted after a moment. “Maybe if you were single, asking me to a dorm party could be a date, but you would never ask another guy out after fighting with your boyfriend after just announcing you were dating. You would never.”