Josh opens the museum door for me. His teeth are gritted.
“Knowing all of these people and things that I don’t.” Shut. Up.
“Yeah, because they’ve been a part of my life for, like, ever. I’m not gonna be a dick in front of the people who keep my dad in office.”
“I know! And I know you’re a part of this life, so you have to act like that—”
“I don’t have to do anything. I choose to be a decent person.”
It’s a sword through the chest. I’ve gone too far. I’ve gone way, way too far. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know why…”
“Forget it.” But his head is turned away from mine. He’s scanning the line of cars for Brian, but, really, it’s an excuse not to look at me. I can’t blame him. Why couldn’t I keep my stupid insecurities to myself?
It’s freezing, and I wish I’d brought my winter coat. For the first time ever, either Josh doesn’t notice that I’m shivering or he chooses not to offer me his jacket. Not that he should have to give it to me. It’s my own fault for leaving my coat behind during the excitement of his arrival at my house.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
He shrugs.
“Do you still wanna get something to eat?”
“Of course.” Josh sounds surprised. He pulls his hands from his pockets and crosses his arms. After a minute of uneasy silence, he uncrosses them and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, too. For bringing you. Not that I didn’t want you here,” he adds quickly, “but because I knew it would suck. These things always do. Not that all of that sucked,” he adds again. “Twenty minutes of it were fantastic.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I stare at the pavement. “You have this big life that I’m not a part of. And I wanted to see it.”
Josh’s frown deepens.
I open my mouth to try again when a black town car pulls up to the kerb and flashes its lights. The wind turns abrasive as we hurry towards it. The locks pop, Josh opens the back door, and we slide inside.
“Sorry I’m late,” Brian says. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour.”
Josh shakes his head. “No problem. You know how these events are.”
“Do I ever.” Brian grins at us in the rear-view mirror. “You’ve got ninety minutes before curfew. Can I take you somewhere else?”
Josh leans forward in his seat. “You know that café on Amsterdam? Kismet?”
Brian snorts. It tells me that he already knows the story. “I think I can find the place.”
“Thanks.” Josh sits back. And then he turns to me with a sudden alarm. “Is that okay? Sorry, I’m still in stupid party mode. I didn’t even ask. I know we’re going there for New Year’s, but I thought an early visit would be nice. For nostalgia’s sake.”
“No, it’s perfect.” I force a smile. “Thanks, Brian.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he says.
But the feeling inside the car is not perfection. There’s no hand holding. We’re quiet and ill at ease. As Brian merges into traffic, he tries to lighten the mood. “So, Isla. Did you get to see any of the museum?”
It’s a leading question. Clearly, Josh tells him a lot of things. “I did.”
“Aaaaand?”
I force another cheerful smile. “It was a beautiful gift.”
He pumps his fist. “Nice.”
“Went off without a hitch,” Josh says. “Thank you, Chuck.”
“Thank you, Chuck!” Brian repeats.