“Hey, you know that gallery building we walked by at the end of campus?”

She shrugs, covering her mouth with her napkin while she chews, because her bite’s too big. She tries to get the word “yeah” out, but her speech is muffled by the fullness in her cheeks. She might be awesome.

“Right,” I laugh lightly, smiling at her and taking a giant bite of my burger so I can talk with a full mouth too. “They hab a arrrr show neck weeeeek. Wah a go?”

She completely stops chewing, shirks her shoulders up, and bunches her brow at me, staring. “Wha?”

I finish chewing and laugh more—when I do, she blushes a little, finally getting that I’m teasing her. She’s turning so red I start to feel bad, but then she surprises me, grabbing a handful of fries and taking a giant drink of her soda, chewing with her mouth open and looking me squarely in the eyes.

“Yah, arrr showwwww. I’ll gooooo,” she can’t quite finish her sentence without giggling uncontrollably and covering her mouth again with her napkin to keep her food from flying out. But I heard enough—just the right words. She’ll go. That means I’ve got her attention for at least another week.

Chapter 6

Rowe

I managed to finish lunch without having another freak out. And the more we walked and talked, the more comfortable I became with Nate. He felt familiar, like we had known each other since we were kids or something and were just catching up.

Maybe that’s because I kept the spotlight on him. I asked about his baseball playing, and I found out he started with tee-ball at three. His brother used to play, too. In a few of the stories he told, he mentioned his brother running and playing with him, and I know something must have happened to put him in the wheelchair, but I didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask about that.

He talked about his childhood home, and he asked about mine. Louisiana and Phoenix don’t sound so different, only his summers sound more humid. My past stayed on my childhood, talking about my embarrassing first-day meltdown in kindergarten where I protested the coloring exercise and made the teacher call my dad to take me home…and my first slow dance with a boy, where he blew a bubble with his gum and it got stuck in my hair, leading to my first short haircut.

He seemed to soak up everything I said, and I found myself wanting to keep talking, telling him more. And a few times, I thought of stories I could share. But they were stories about Betsy and Josh. Nate doesn’t need to hear those, and I’m not ready to give them away.

His brother was waiting for him at the elevator, so I came upstairs alone. All it took was a few seconds in my own head for me to second guess everything—promising myself I’d distance from him after today, making sure he didn’t have the wrong idea or think I could give him more than I can. I need to remember that Nate isn’t any different from Cass—a new friend. No matter how he makes my insides feel.

Cass and I have been swapping music for the last two hours while Paige gets ready in the bathroom. The freshman mixer is tonight, and I saw them setting up for it in the gym when I left with Nate earlier. Cass is making me go, and I think if I refused she would throw me over her shoulder and carry me.

I really like her. I think we have a lot in common, at least, the few things about me that are left. Our music libraries are almost identical, and she wants to go to Austin for South-by-Southwest this year. I’ve always wanted to go to a music festival, too, but that’s just not in my cards. I’ve spent the last forty-eight hours talking myself out of dropping out of college. I don’t think a road trip will be possible until I can master a semester or two.

“So, how was your…lunch,” Cass asks, making air quotes around the word lunch, which I don’t really understand.

“It was fine. He seems nice,” I say, noticing Paige is paying attention to us now.

“Riiiiight. Nice,” Cass teases, and I just shake my head.

“We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Hmmmmm, yeah. Same with Ty and me. Of course, I still kissed him,” she says, standing to her feet the second she speaks and covering her mouth while it hangs open in a big O, her eyes wide.

“You slut,” Paige butts in, “I knew you liked that guy. But he’s in a wheelchair?”

Cass shrugs a so what, but I kind of want to kick Paige. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to understand how she and Cass are sisters.

“Yeah, well, you can have that guy. Just keep your hands off his brother,” Paige says. My body fires up defensively, but I keep my eyes down, thumbing through my music on my iPod. I can feel Cass looking at me, and I’m forcing myself to control my breathing.