“We’re friends,” I say, holding my mouth into a straight smile and concentrating hard not to let anything else out. My mom lets this sit for a few seconds, waiting to see if there’s more, and her slight smile lets me know she knows there’s more. But she also knows that one wrong word could trigger me into full retreat mode. So she lets it go.
“Good. I’m glad you’re making friends, Rowe. I’d like to meet Nate sometime.” Her smile is soft. It’s that full understanding that happens between a mother and a daughter when they communicate without words, and it’s the first conversation we’ve had like this since those weeks before the shooting.
“I think he’d like to meet you too.”
Chapter 18
Rowe
I didn’t visit Josh’s parents this time. I had to stick to my promise to myself and let him go. My visit is never for him anyhow, and I knew they’d understand. When I left for McConnell, Josh’s mom told me she hoped I would find my life in Oklahoma. I think I have, or at least I found a way to start again.
I told my parents I didn’t want to come home for fall break, and instead wanted to wait until Thanksgiving. I could tell it made my dad a little sad, but my mom stepped in and reminded him what a huge step this was. I told them I wanted to try to make it longer, to start stretching myself, and my independence. But really, I don’t want to leave Nate again.
Because it’s early enough, my parents decided to use the airline credit to visit me instead. I helped my dad pick out a few dates that coincided with Nate’s second fall tournament. They would be in Oklahoma in a little more than a month. I just hoped Nate still wanted to meet them when the time comes.
“Sweet Caroline” got old after about seven replays, so I switched to the playlist I had made for the first car ride to McConnell. I had sixty songs on that list at least, so every one was something different and a surprise, which made the last hour of the flight pass quickly.
I started looking for Nate as soon as I pulled my carry-on through the gate, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t think he would be allowed to come that close, for security reasons, but it didn’t stop me from fantasizing. I wondered if he would kiss me when he saw me? I wasn’t sure how to act with him now. I wasn’t exactly sure what we were.
Nate’s voice is unmistakable, and it hits my ears and then my heart. He’s singing—Neil, of course, in my honor. His tone is deaf, and he’s switching keys like crazy, and I’m pretty sure he’s making it worse on purpose, just to embarrass me. Then I see the sign, a ginormous pink poster-board covered in glitter and black marker looking for Miss Butstynk.
“What? No ‘paging Miss Butstynk’ over the phone system? Nate, I’m disappointed. I think you’re getting soft,” I say, my mouth tingling just thinking about his lips.
He pulls the poster down to his feet and steps in closer to me, reaching his arm around my body to pull me in for a hug. I can hear him chuckling deep in his chest, the best sound I’ve ever heard, and then he kisses me on the top of my head, and we start walking.
I can’t get over the grin on his face, and the way he keeps looking at me every few steps that we take. A few times, he takes a breath, like he’s ready to speak, but he never does.
“Flight was fine, thanks,” I finally say when we get to the elevator bank, teasing him, but also wanting to end this strange awkwardness.
“Good. Glad old Neil could help you out,” he says, holding the door with his back while I wheel my bag inside. When the doors close, Nate steps in front of me quickly, putting his hands on either side of my face and lifting my mouth to his. He pauses for the tiniest second, long enough to check my reaction, and when I smile against his lips, he kisses me completely. It’s soft and tender, and he holds my top lip between his teeth for a few seconds while he moans softly.
“Goddamn,” he says, backing away and licking the taste of me from his lips.
Two more people get in the elevator at the next floor, and my pulse speeds up knowing they could have just walked in on us. I guess it’s only a kiss, and people do that in public all of the time, but before Nate, my only kisses were by lockers, under bleachers, on my parents’ porch—and in Josh’s bedroom.
“So, Miss Butstynk. Where can I drive you?” Nate smiles at me, tapping his finger to his poster and winking.
“The transplant office. I’m ready…to become a man,” I say, and when he closes his eyes to stifle his laugh, I know I’ve won this round. The duo with us in the elevator looks horrified.