but then again, he’s Mr. Positive, so I’m not even sure he has it in him to be more than mildly frustrated.
“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He still smiles, never taking his eyes off the road.
“Sorry.” I shut my eyes, only opening them again to watch the dark trees we drive past.
“I mean, I know I’m handsome and all, but seriously, if you’d rather have a picture, that’s cool too.”
I pick at the jeans covering my knees, the tight fabric that feels more suffocating now than anything else. “I’m sorry.”
“You apologize a lot,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I’m …” I deny my automatic reaction.
“Ben, man, are you okay? I mean, I know you can’t be after all that, but like, I’m worried, dude.”
“Don’t be,” I say. I feel so close to that edge, and it hurts that Nathan is the one pushing me closer.
“Why? I’m your friend. I have a right to be worried, don’t you think?”
“No one said you had to be.”
Nathan scoffs, and he doesn’t sound very happy. “That’s a thing friends tend to do.”
He was the one who wanted to be my friend. I keep picking at the spot, thinking that maybe I can scratch my way to my skin, and just keep going. No. I force the thoughts from my head and sit on my hands instead.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“Yes, please” is my first answer, but then I think about Hannah, and her reaction. I’m guessing one look at me would tell her all she needed to know, and the second she sees me like this she’ll rush me over to a hospital or call Dr. Taylor. “Actually, no.”
“No?” Nathan glances over for a split second, before focusing back on the road again.
“No. My sister’s there.”
“Why would she care?”
“I just can’t go there right now.” There might be too many questions. Like why I live with my sister and her husband, or why there aren’t any pictures of my parents on the walls. And then that familiar guilt settles in my stomach.
I should tell him.
“Okay, where do you want to go?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“My parents aren’t home, won’t be until later. We can go to my house.”
Any other day, this thought would’ve terrified me. But instead I nod, knowing that right now, Nathan Allan’s house is the only place for me.
“Can I show you something?” Nathan asks.
We’re in his backyard, tossing the ball for Ryder again. He keeps switching between the two of us, taking the ball back to Nathan, then bringing it to me.
It’s simple. Easy. Just what I need right now.
“Sure.” I throw the ball again.
Nathan doesn’t wait for Ryder to catch up. He goes back inside through the glass doors, leaving them wide open for me to follow. We head up to his room again. It’s cleaner this time. Most of the clothes have been picked up, but there are still piles of books lying everywhere, like he doesn’t know what to do with all of them.
I expect him to crawl on his bed, but he doesn’t. No, instead he walks over to his window, opening it just wide enough for him to duck through.
“Out the window?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He grins back at me before vanishing into the night. “Told you I had something to show you.”
“And it’s on the roof?”
“Technically.” His voice echoes back into the bedroom. “The roof has the best view.”
I poke my head outside, unsure of how I’m really supposed to do this. I try my best to copy how he moved, putting one foot out first and then bracing myself to get the other. But these pants are so tight that I’m scared I’ve ripped the crotch for a second. And when I’m finally outside I twist something wrong, and my foot ends up hanging on the windowpane. Fuck, this is how it ends, right? Face-first, thirty feet into Nathan’s backyard. What a way to go.
“Whoa there, cowboy.” Nathan catches me by the hand, pulling me in close. “Please don’t fall off my roof. That would be very complicated to explain to my parents.”
“Not like I planned on it.” My heart has to catch up with everything around me, and then I realize just how close we are to each other. “Okay, I think I’ve seen enough.” I close my eyes. “Can we go back inside now?”
“Not even close.” He steadies me. “You good?”
I try to get used to standing at an angle while also ignoring certain death below me. “Maybe it’s