Page 81 of Broken Compass


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“Kash is prettier.”

“But Kash doesn’t own a restaurant. Very important point.”

“You’re not denying that Kash is pretty.”

“Boys aren’t pretty, Shortcake. They’re handsome.”

“Still not denying my point.”

“Okay, fine. Kash is plenty pretty. Just not as pretty as me.”

I laugh. God, I like this more relaxed, happier Nate. His appetite is finally back, too, and he’s not as skinny as he used to be. He eats like a truck driver, and he trains with Kash who wasn’t kidding when he said he knows how to fight. They’ve both put on muscle, and height, and I mean… oh boy.

Whew. Hot.

“He took care of this place until we got enough money to pay our part, though.”

“Yeah.” He frowns as he sticks the food in the microwave. “Where do you think he got that money? I doubt George lent it to him.”

“You never know.” But I don’t think so. “I think George sort of adopted him.”

“Why would anyone want to adopt Kash? I’m more adoptable. And adorable.”

I don’t know about that, but he sure is sexy. I look at Nate sideways, pretending to be studying my food, my gaze snagging on the warm amber hue of his long-lashed eyes, the wide mouth and square, stubbled jaw, the broad set of his shoulders.

Oh my… “Sure,” I say breathily.

Stop thinking about how sexy Nate is. Stop it, Sydney.

“Yeah?” Nate makes puppy eyes at me, and I snicker, my trance shattered.

“You are adorbs. Now eat your food.”

Better think about other things, like… where did Kash get that money? I remember bills appearing under my door. I never worked up the courage to ask Kash if he was the one who put it there.

We’ve mostly avoided talking about ourselves in these past months. Some initial attempts to clarify some things ended up in fights. Nate was too raw to even want to sit down and talk at all. He dropped out of school, got a job in a seedy, probably illegal bar, and has lived day to day for quite a long time.

Kash closed up, too, disappearing for most of the day, working different jobs, and not talking much. My only chance to talk to him is late at night when he’s on our tiny balcony, smoking, but by then I’m usually too tired to stay up.

And as for me… I don’t know. I’m kind of…. lost? I guess. I hadn’t planned on leaving the apartment with just the clothes on my back. But I just couldn’t bear the thought of my boys going, and of the loneliness I’d face. Of how much I’d miss them.

I can’t even talk about how I gave up on Mom coming back to me. Sure, West has our address and could tell her where I am if she turns up. If she ever comes back…

God, I miss West. I was devastated he didn’t come along. I still see him in classes, and he walks me to the bus stop sometimes, but I miss spending afternoons and evenings with him, in his room, talking and playing video games. Being there for him. I’m so worried about him ever since we left. His grandfather is such a creep.

But yeah, we don’t talk about these things. We keep to banal, everyday topics, like the weather, the bills, whether or not we had an okay day at work.

“Fuck, this smells good,” Nate mutters, placing the steaming plate of food on the table and grabbing two dishes from the rack. “What is it, though?”

I peer more closely at it. “Hm… I think I recognize zucchini in there. And minced meat.”

“Okay, I’m down with zucchini and meat. Let me at it.” And he digs in and starts stuffing his face.

I shouldn’t find that cute, right? This Neanderthal behavior? The hoovering effect? The way he bends over his plate, completely hunched over, to minimize distance between the dish and his mouth?

Such a boy thing. Kash and West do it, too, and they are all so cute.

What’s a girl to do, surrounded by so much eye-candy she’s not even allowed to touch?

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