if I e-mail him about Nina, get it all out on a page, it’ll help. I get dressed in a hurry.
* * *
I slide into one of the plastic chairs at the café and power up my account, pumped to get this weight off my shoulders, but the incoming message from James deflates me:
Don’t go hopping on the next plane back, but I thought you should know there’s been a setback with your dad. He’s kind of barricading himself in his room again, but we’re on top of it. Don’t worry. AND…on a happier note, I’ve got a hot coffee date tomorrow. Trevor is his name, and even you would approve of this boy. I’ll keep you posted on your dad. And seriously. DON’T. WORRY.
As a general rule, people only say “don’t worry” when there’s something to worry about. I reach for my phone by the keyboard, but it’s four a.m. at home. Squeezing my eyes, I drag my hands down my face. Dad was on the mend when I left, getting up and getting out. Not back to work or anything, but not sleeping the days away. Part of me wants to book a flight and head home, but my uncle’s last words before my trip stop me. “You can’t shoulder all the pain for your dad,” he said. “You need to live your life. Get your ass on a plane, get away, and I’ll look after my brother. Don’t make me tell you twice, or you’ll be spending the next few months living with your pops.”
As much as I love my pops, the idea of living with the forever chauvinistic, cut-to-the-chase Larry Cannon is up there with those naked exam dreams. Highly unpleasant. If I show up at home, that’s exactly what’ll happen. And I still haven’t decided if I’m going to ditch the idea of working for my dad’s consulting firm and get into physiotherapy. Every time I do my exercises, I picture myself helping other people. Making a difference. But my dad’s counting on me to take over his company. With everything that’s happened, I don’t want to let him down.
Needing to purge the guilt and nerves and thoughts overcrowding my brain, I hit compose and start typing.
For the next thirty minutes, I let spill everything that’s been getting in the way of me moving forward with that school crap and with Nina—the girl I think of as mine even though I’ve been too scared to do anything about it.
She turns me sideways in the most awesome way with her crazy stories, awkward moments, and those eyes that reduce me to a horny mess. With her, it’s like I’m a virgin all over again—the anticipation, the wanting. The twenty-four/seven erection. Not having had sex in over year isn’t helping. But this girl?
The dread of potentially reliving what I went through with Lacey hasn’t vanished. But everything about Nina makes me feel more. More grounded. At peace. Happier than I ever thought I could be since the accident. If she doesn’t freak, we could be epic. Even if it’s just for now, while we travel this amazing country, being with her could be exactly what I need. It might not be what I was looking for, but I can do this. I can be with her, say good-bye when it’s all done, and not fall apart. Walk away a better man.
I’m not my father.
By the end of my e-mail to James, after making it clear I need constant updates on my dad, my hands are cramped from typing, but as soon as I hit send, my nerves subside. No more bullshit. No more hiding who I am or what I look like. The lies have to end.
Fourteen
Nina
You in here, Nina?” A scowling Leigh struts through the bathroom door. With the time we’ve spent together, I’m learning a Leigh scowl is akin to her smiling. “Paige said you walked in here ten minutes ago.” The second she says Paige’s name, though, that scowl tips upward.
We were at a bar yesterday, Sam and me playing pool—more like Sam playing and me smacking balls around—when I noticed Leigh at a nearby table chatting with a girl. I don’t know how one girl knows the other is gay, but I’d say those two were getting acquainted. The girl in question was pretty in a natural way with shoulder-length brown hair and minimal makeup. When she leaned back and I glimpsed her T-shirt, I knew why Leigh was drawn to her. Just