if he never came home? Nick would be alone. There was no one else. Cousins, maybe, out west, but he’d never met them. Would he have to go with them? Who would take care of him if the what if became something real?
The haze of sheer panic hadn’t begun to clear until he’d heard a familiar voice at his ear, telling him to breathe, just breathe, that everything would be okay, Nicky, everything was going to be okay, breathe, breathe, breathe.
It was Seth, of course.
Somehow, he’d known.
Later, when his dad had come running into the school, a haunted look on his face that had yet to fade in the few short months since his wife’s death, it was decided that Nick would always have access to his phone, just in case. He’d have to keep it on vibrate so it wouldn’t disrupt the other students, and he couldn’t abuse it, but he could keep it switched on in the event of an emergency.
The memory of the day his father had come for him was sharper, now. Even though he knew Dad was at home asleep, his heart still managed to trip all over itself as he reached for his phone.
Making sure Hanson wasn’t watching, Nick set it on his leg and looked down.
OWEN, the screen read.
He turned to glare at Owen, sitting a few desks over.
Owen waggled his eyebrows right back in that devastatingly handsome way he did.
He thought about ignoring it. It would be the smart thing to do. And Nick was smart. At least four people thought so.
Owen nodded toward Nick’s phone.
Nick sighed.
He swiped open the text.
PAY ATTENTION.
He hated Owen Burke. Mostly.
Sometimes he liked him. He liked the way his skin tingled when Owen had kissed him, had liked the way Owen could make him laugh. He didn’t necessarily like Owen as a person, but that was because Owen was an ass who didn’t seem to care who he stepped on to get what he wanted.
Owen had girlfriends, pretty ones with manicured nails and extensions, and then, somehow, he had Nick one night while it was just the two of them eating bad tacos from a hole in the wall with the disturbing name of Gato Grande. Nick hadn’t known how he’d ended up alone with Owen, because he’d been positive Seth had been there too, and Owen had said Nick had salsa verde on his face. He’d reached out with his thumb to wipe it away, and then, for reasons Nick wasn’t quite sure of, they’d been kissing.
It was … nice? Sort of. Nick had never been kissed before and didn’t think his first time would be when he was still swallowing a mouthful of chorizo. His brain mostly shorted out, and when Owen pulled away, that devilish smile on his face, he’d felt himself blush furiously.
“So,” Owen said, and Nick had wondered how his jaw was so chiseled for someone barely a year older than himself.
“So,” Nick squeaked.
And so began the Great Romance of Nick and Owen.
Jazz had been confused. Gibby had been annoyed. Seth hadn’t liked any part of it, if the sour expressions on his face had meant anything.
Which was why when it ended a few months later, Nick hadn’t been that upset. It wasn’t as if they went on dates. Sometimes, they would go out as a group and Owen would put his arm around Nick’s shoulders, but that was usually as far as it went. A couple of times, Owen tried to take it further, but Nick remembered his father sitting in front of him with a condom in one hand, a banana in the other, and a gigantic bottle of lube on the table between them, and the idea of anything remotely sexual happening had gone right out the window.
He’d never forgiven Dad for that, especially since he’d made it clear he’d already known what condoms were. It didn’t help that he’d forever be haunted by the way Dad had accidentally used too much lube and the banana had squirted out of his hand and landed on the floor. The sound it made when it hit the ancient linoleum would be something he’d have to go to a support group for when he reached his midthirties.
The Great Romance of Nick and Owen came to an end as quickly as it started. (“You’re a great guy, Nicky, but I’m a wild animal who can’t be caged.” “Oh my god, you are not!”) Nick hadn’t been too upset by it because whatever else