“I don’t even think I could find that North Star thing everyone’s been talking about,” Nathan adds as we settle back down. “Dad tried to teach me, but at this point I’m totally convinced it’s a conspiracy.”
“Yeah, they told me that in second grade. Keep the North Star a total secret from one Nathan Allan. Hush-hush stuff, you know?” I can’t keep myself from giggling.
“Good, mystery solved. That means I can finally put it behind me.” He lets out a long sigh, and then he looks at me.
Silence surrounds us again, but it definitely isn’t the bad kind. I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels comfortable. Like we don’t have to say anything right now.
We’re enough for each other. At least in this moment.
“Thanks.” I run my thumb over the skin of his hand. I can almost feel his heart beat now; it’s thudding in his chest. Is he actually nervous? That seems so un-Nathan. “Thank you for this,” I say. “For sharing this with me.”
His mouth spreads into that smile. “No problem.”
I wake up early the next morning, because of course I do. I can’t even sleep in for spring break. Staying asleep has been getting easier, but Dr. Taylor told me it could take a few weeks for us to see if the medication is working, so maybe I’ve just tricked myself into thinking the problem is going away.
But last night, it didn’t feel like the anxiety was what was keeping me awake. Nathan and I sat out on his roof for what felt like decades, until his phone started ringing, his mom letting him know that they were on the way home.
He offered to introduce me, but I turned him down. I don’t know, something about meeting his parents, the way they’d probably look at me as this total stranger who’s been home alone with their son for who knows how long. I’ve also been to their house twice now without their knowledge, so I know it’s going to have to happen soon. Maybe one day I’ll work up the courage.
It’s still pretty cool outside, even if it’s almost April, so I throw on a hoodie and sweatpants and sit out in the enclosed area of Hannah and Thomas’s porch, the screen windows letting in just enough cool air.
My fingers trace my palm, the exact place Nathan held my hand. That moment on the roof, it’s like he knew. What exactly he knew, I have no clue. I don’t even know what it means, if it’s even supposed to mean something. Was he just being there for me? Am I more than a friend? Does he think of me that way now, or is he just really good at being himself? Or am I totally looking way too deep into this?
I have a feeling that last one is probably the right answer.
But I also know that I really liked it, and that it might not be such a bad thing if it happened again.
No, it’d get too complicated with Nathan. If I can’t even be out to him, how can I expect him to be my boyfriend? There’s too much going on right now, too much to work through. Besides, we’re graduating in two months, and he’s probably going off to school, and I’m staying here to live with Hannah until I eventually find a full-time job and try to save up enough money for my own apartment. Never leaving this state, or hell, never even leaving Raleigh.
But I can dream, right?
I draw back my hand when I hear the door slide open.
“You’re up early,” Hannah says, taking the seat across from me.
“Couldn’t sleep.” I run my fingers along my empty palm again. There’s a dog barking in the distance. I wonder if it’s Ryder.
“So how was your night?” she asks, cup of coffee in hand.
“Fine.” I scratch the back of my head. I can’t tell her the truth, but that’s an easy enough lie.
“You got in late. Didn’t party too hard, right?”
“I had one drink, and something that tasted really gross.”
“Yeah, you get used to it.”
I debated all night whether I should tell her about the panic attack, but in the end, I know it’ll just cause more worry. That’s something to tell Dr. Taylor, not Hannah. “I don’t think the party life is for me,” I try to joke.
Hannah lets out this tired little chuckle, staring ahead at the line of trees that cut off her backyard from the noise of the city nearby.
I wish I could say she hasn’t changed in the ten years we’ve been apart. Still a little pushy without really meaning to be, still headstrong. She is those things, but other than that, there isn’t really much I know about her. The age difference meant we weren’t really a part of each other’s lives. I mean, what teenager wants to hang around their kid sibling? She had her own life, her own friends, her own hobbies. She spent weekends out of the house, and nights locked away in her room.
It dawns on me that as much as she’s saved my life, I don’t really know my own sister.
“So what are your plans for today?” she eventually asks.
“Nothing.” I shrug. I guess I have a whole week to look forward to. A week without the art room, my portrait of Nathan left alone. A week without Sophie or Meleika. “What about you?”
“Thomas is finally catching up on sleep. But I need to go to the grocery store. Want to come with? It’s right next to a shopping center. Maybe we can find you some new clothes while we’re out.”
“We could do that,” I say. Maybe this is the chance we’ve both been waiting for. We’re older, and without Mom and Dad around, it might be easier. Besides, I’d rather not have to raid her closet the next time I want to go out. Not that I’m too eager for another party, but you never know when you might need semi-decent-looking clothes.
“You want breakfast? I’m starving,” she says after a solid minute of neither of us contributing to the conversation.
“Not hungry.”
“Okay.” She stands up and walks back inside. I wait until I hear the click of the door before I pull out my phone. I’ve gone nearly a week without talking to Mariam. Not totally ignoring, but it’s been mostly one-sided conversations. I just really haven’t felt like talking much at the moment.
Me: Morning!
I text them on the off chance they’re up. It only takes a few seconds for them to reply. They must be working on something to be awake as early as they are.
Mariam: heyo! how we doing?
Me: Fine, you’re up early…
Mariam: meetings, planning, editing, articles to write.
Mariam: I’m runnin’ on fumes, Benji
Me: Yikes…
Mariam: What about you? Anything new???
Me: Not really, school’s kicking my ass, dealing with some more stuff.
Not a great excuse, but hopefully they will understand my radio silence.
Mariam: Noice! I’m always up for some existential crises.
Me: Always a fun time.
Mariam: So what’s on the agenda for us today?
Me: Hannah wants to go out, get some groceries, look at some clothes.
Mariam: Nice, nice!
I rub my face while I consider the pros and cons of telling Mariam about last night, my hand scratching the stubbly hair that’s just poking up on my jaw. I yank my hand away and try to forget about it, but I know I won’t feel better until I actually shave it off, which I probably won’t be able to do until tonight.