“I don’t really know.”
“Okay, here’s forty just in case.” She hands me two folded twenty-dollar bills. “Unless this is another party that you’re lying to me about.”
I consider turning it down for half a second, but if whatever Nathan is taking me to tonight requires some sort of entry fee, I’ll be shit out of luck without it. “Thank you.” I take the cash and slide it into my wallet. “And it’s not a party, I promise.”
“No problem. What time is he coming over?”
I check my phone. “About five minutes ago.” Shit, I’m already late. I run to Hannah and Thomas’s bathroom to steal some of Thomas’s cologne, because apparently, I’m going all out tonight. I even stop in front of the mirror to try and put some effort into my hair, but there’s really no fixing this mess. Maybe I should ask Hannah to cut it, but I sort of like it this way. Before I leave the bathroom, I take my second dose of Xanax for the day and make sure to jot down the date and time in the little notebook Dr. Taylor gave me.
After triple-checking I’ve got everything—phone, keys, and wallet—I wave good-bye to Hannah and Thomas. They’re watching some reality show and eating takeout in the living room. “Stay safe, kid.” Thomas waves to me.
“No promises,” I yell from the door. “I’ll be home later.”
“Midnight at the latest, please!” Hannah calls back.
Nathan’s just pulling into the driveway when I close the door behind me. “Sorry I’m late, Mom wouldn’t let me leave without walking the dog,” he says after I buckle my seat belt.
“It’s fine. So still no hints about where we’re going?”
“Ah-ah.” He wiggles his finger. “It’s a surprise, but I’ll tell you it involves one of the greatest movies of all time.”
“That still sounds vaguely malicious.” I watch him put the car in reverse and back out of the driveway. “Park and a movie, huh?”
Nathan glances over to me, grinning like always.
Pullen Park is huge. Like huge, huge. I never really made it a habit of going to parks, even as a kid. This one time I saw a needle on a jungle gym, went and told Mom, and we never went to that park, or any park, ever again. Can’t say I blame her after she explained what could’ve happened if I’d picked it up.
“So, what are we doing here?”
We’ve just been walking around now. Apparently, there are no parking spots close to whatever this event is, so we had to park on the opposite side. Which means a lot of walking.
“Ever heard of a little movie called Star Wars?”
“No. Tell me more!” I give him some side-eye and he just starts shaking his head. “That doesn’t explain why we’re in a park. Or why you’re carrying around a basket.”
“It’s a showing. The city does this about twice a month, they set up this stage and project a movie on the screen for everyone to watch.”
“Oh, so why are we here so early?”
“To get the good seats.” He pats at the basket in his arms, and I swear it’s the most stereotypically wicker thing I’ve ever seen. “These things are always wild. If you don’t get here early, you’ll be stuck in the front section. Not fun.”
“So we get to sit here for an hour and wait?”
“They play music,” Nathan protests. “Besides.” He swings the basket toward me. “I’ve got a picnic.”
“A pic-a-nic?” I try to snatch it away, but he pulls back at the very last second.
“But my Titanic joke was dated, huh?” We finally reach this huge gate that leads right to the concert arena, which isn’t much more than a hill with a stage. There are concrete sections near the front for chairs, but the majority of the arena is grass.
“Wow,” I say.
“It’s just like a theater. You want to go for the middle section.” Nathan points to where the crowd is beginning to linger. There might be around thirty people already. “See, most people want to go to the front or to the very back, but then you don’t get that crisp sound.”
“‘Crisp sound’?” I try not to giggle. “How much can I pay you to never say ‘crisp’ again?”
“Very funny.” His mouth spreads into that big grin. “This is a good spot.” Nathan reaches into the basket and pulls out this absolutely huge blanket, letting the slight breeze unfold it for him before settling it down.
“Here. Take a seat, my prince.”
“Prince?” I feel myself get smaller. He doesn’t know, he can’t know. Just stop making a big deal out of it.
He grabs the basket and gets down on his knees. “What’s wrong with being a prince?”
“Nothing.” I try to shake that weird feeling. “Nothing. So what do we have?”
“I bought a few sandwiches. But I wasn’t sure what you like.” Nathan opens the basket and starts to lay everything out. “There’s ham and cheese, turkey with lettuce and bacon. And in case you’re vegetarian, there’s a veggie one. No cheese either, so it’s vegan too!”
I eye the choices, grabbing the ham and cheese.
“Classic, nice.” Nathan picks the turkey.
“What do we do while we wait?”
“We eat, we talk, do a little one-on-one bonding.” The music starts to echo over the loudspeakers at the back of the arena.
“Sounds fun.” I unwrap the sandwich and take a bite. “So …” I swallow.
“So …” he says, rocking back and forth a little.
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask.
He bites into his sandwich again. “Well, as much as I’d love to sit here and have an awkward back-and-forth with you, I think we need to have a serious discussion.”
“What?” My mind races with at least a thousand possibilities. Did he figure it out somehow? Or maybe the night at Stephanie’s really did scare him, and he wants to know exactly what’s wrong with me. Maybe he doesn’t want to be friends anymore? No, that’s silly. Why would he invite me out like this, make us a dinner, if he wanted to stop being my friend?
Nathan grins from ear to ear. “I think we should get to know each other a little better.”
“Oh. Um … Okay?”
“Come on, I’ve known you for almost three months now and I barely know the first thing about you.” He starts counting off. “You like to draw, last name is De Backer, you live with your sister, you’re a little weird, but I like that about you.”
“Am not,” I argue.
“Dude, come on.” He picks up the veggie sandwich. “I didn’t even know if you’re vegetarian or not.”
“Whatever,” I huff. “So, what do you want to know?”
He leans back on the blanket, folding his arms under his head. “Hold on, have to think of a good one.” He thinks for a moment. “Okay, so what’s your favorite color?”
“I like green, and pur—”
“Ah-ah. I said favorite. Not the ones you just like.”
“You’re going to laugh at me.” I put my sandwich on the blanket, my appetite suddenly forgotten.