Chapter 12 Evan
EVAN
As I let myself into the house after Nate drops me off, I try to tell myself it was just like the other times.
Nate just wanted my ass like those guys I meet online.
But I can’t even fool myself. It wasn’t like the other times.
And Nate wanted more than a quick fuck. When I tried to take him to that place, he stopped the car and told me he didn’t wanna fuck me on the backseat.
It was probably still the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Now, this time, when he leaves, it’s gonna suck even worse. I’m gonna hate him even more.
When I get up the next morning, Ma’s at the counter in her work clothes, spreading peanut butter on bread.
“You were out late last night,” she says.
I open the fridge, get the OJ out and swig it from the carton.
“I heard you come home around three. What were you doing out that late?”
There’s a hint of worry in her voice and I don’t wanna be the cause of that.
“I was out with Nate.”
“Nate? At that time?” She puts the knife down and turns to give me her full attention.
Don’t blush. Don’t let her see what you’re hiding.
I shrug. “I thought you wanted me to hang out with him?”
“I do, it’s just … I didn’t think Nate would-”
“What? Good boy Nate doesn’t stay out past curfew?”
She shakes her head. “What were you two even doing out that late?”
I turn my back so she can’t see my face heat up.
“Talking.”
She pauses. “Talking? About what?”
“Just stuff.” I shrug.
When I turn back around, she’s still standing there, staring at me. “It’s good I guess, you having someone to talk to.” She shakes her head and picks the knife up again. “Nate won’t get in trouble for staying out late?”
“He’s a big boy, Ma.”
My cock twitches at the memory of how much of a big boy Nate is.
“He can take care of himself.”
“I know that.”
“Are you worried I’m gonna be a bad influence on him?
” The bitterness that spills out is a surprise.
I shouldn’t still feel this way now Nate’s told me it wasn’t him who threw me under the bus.
He just did a stupid thing and panicked, it was his dickhead stepdad and his lawyer who screwed me over.
I just wish my own ma wouldn’t have automatically assumed the worst of me.
She puts the knife down again and walks across the kitchen to put her hands on my face. “I’m glad you two are close again.”
Fuck, could I be any closer to blushing right now?
I squirm and she lets me go.
“You know Nate’s welcome to stay over here?”
“We’re not kids anymore, Ma. We don’t have sleepovers.”
The thought of having Nate in my bed again, this time knowing he wants to … let’s just say I don’t trust myself with him in my bed.
“I’m just saying, he’s welcome here any time.”
I wanna tell her we can’t just jump in a time machine and pretend the last five years never happened.
That Nate didn’t go off and have a totally different life.
That he still lives next door and comes in and out of our house like it’s his own.
That Dad’s gonna walk in through that door.
My chest feels tight. Ma looks at me and frowns.
“You okay?”
“Indigestion,” I lie.
“There’s some Tums in the cupboard, take some.”
“I’m fine, Ma, stop fussing.”
My phone buzzes while I’m sitting at the table with my ma and Stacie. Ma’s head shoots up straight away.
“Who is it?”
I try to keep the smile off my face when I answer. “Just Nate.”
“Is he coming over?” Stacie asks, perking up.
I swear to god if he upsets her, I’m gonna kill him.
“No, he’s got school stuff, I’m gonna meet him later.”
“Aww, why don’t you bring him here?”
“Yeah,” Ma says. “Bring him to dinner.”
I don’t wanna bring him to dinner. I want him to fuck me again in the woods, before it gets weird, before he changes his mind and decides he’s done experimenting.
I’m on edge the way I was when I first started meeting strangers online.
That new addiction, making you feel good, before it starts making you feel like shit.
Making you ashamed of yourself for being so desperate.
Like eating too much cake. It’s good at first, and then suddenly you’re stuffed and feel sick.
Nate’s still that first bite right now. The one that makes you ask why you don’t eat cake for every meal.
The phone starts ringing, Nate’s name flashing up on the screen. Stacie’s hand shoots across the table and she grabs it before I can stop her. Those fucking hockey reflexes.
“Hi, Nate, it’s Stacie.”
I can hear Nate’s voice through the phone and it makes the pit of my stomach tingle. Remembering his voice by my ear last night. Breathing hard while he pumped his cock in and out of my ass. Saying my name over and over as he came.
Stacie gets up from the table and starts telling him about hockey and school and some friend he’s probably never met. He must keep asking her questions, because she’s talking like it’s a two-way conversation.
“Mom says you should come to dinner tonight.”
My heart races as she waits for an answer. Her face lights up and she gives Ma a thumbs up.
“About seven okay?” she asks.
Fuck, she sounds so mature right now. My chest gets tight watching her. A couple of days ago, she couldn’t stop crying over Dad. Now she’s excited about something again, smiling, moving on. And it’s because of Nate.
She puts the phone down and slides it across the table to me.
“You just hung up? How’d you know I didn’t wanna talk to him?”
She shrugs. “He’s coming over at seven, you can talk to him then. He said he’s got a mixer at the frat house though, so he can’t stay.”
I meet the guys on the boardwalk. They’re pissed off because I don’t have any weed and when I call my guy, he’s not picking up.
It’s one of those days, walking around, looking for people, not finding anything. I’m actually relieved we don’t find him. I don’t wanna turn up stoned tonight for dinner with Nate and my family.
The guys go into a liquor store and come out with a bottle of vodka. When we go down to the beach to drink it, the tide’s out and the sand seems to go on forever. I have to push out any thoughts of Nate, naked against the wall of showers, kissing him and making him come.
It’s still light out, the sun red as it starts to set on the horizon. The guys don’t even look at it, don’t seem to notice as they pass the bottle around. I try to just take tiny sips when it’s passed my way.
“What’s wrong with you tonight, man?” Adam asks.
He’s in one of those moods, like he wants to terrorize someone.
Usually the target’s Paddy. He’s small and kind of an idiot.
But sometimes he’s too much of an easy target.
And when I don’t have anything to offer, I’m just as disposable to him as Paddy is.
“I’ve got dinner with my ma and sister tonight.”
They all laugh, like that’s the cringiest thing they’ve ever heard.
“Oh, dinner with mommy, got it.” Adam nods, staring at me as he takes his next swig. He shoves the vodka bottle against my chest and tells me to drink.
I take a swig and pass it to Paddy. He’ll do whatever Adam tells him to, but only if he gets what’s going on. Right now, he looks buzzed and completely oblivious.
“Come on, let’s go to the arcade.”
We get out of there. I’m desperate to leave. I’ll stay for another half hour then go home, drink some coffee and take a cold shower to sober myself up.
We’re at the punchbag machine in the doorway of the arcade when this couple walks past, two guys. One of them is stroking the other guy’s arm and they’re looking into each other’s eyes, smiling, happy, minding their own fucking business.
“Look at these two,” Adam says, dropping a slur before spitting on the tarmac.
My stomach drops, my blood turns cold.
He makes a move towards them and I pull him back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarls.
“Leave them be, man.”
He frowns. “Why are you defending them?”
The couple walks past. I think Adam’s stopped paying attention to them until he shouts the slur at them and makes to move. The couple stiffen but keep walking. Smart. I hope they keep going.
I push Adam against a claw machine, his back thudding against the Perspex, an alarm going off.
He shoves me back, so I shove him again. This time he grips me by the shirt and pulls me in.
Pain sears through my face before a trickle of warm fluid starts dripping from my nose. It takes me a beat to realize he’s just headbutted me.
“Come on man, don’t fight,” Corey says, holding Adam back. Adam’s grinning at me now, jutting his chin.
I shove him, pushing him and Corey back into the machine.
Employees from the arcade are coming over now, telling us they’re calling the cops.
“Let’s fucking go!” Corey starts running, dragging Adam with him, Paddy following close behind.
I’m dazed. Which way should I go? I sure as fuck don’t wanna follow them, but I’m gonna get into trouble if I stay here.
One of the employees approaches me before I can make my mind up.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I wave him off.
“Are you sure? You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you need anything?”
I think about going home to my ma and Stacie like this. I relax a little once I see he’s not calling the cops—not right this second at least.
“Have you got some tissue or something?”
“Sure, come on in the back and clean up.”
I give him a weary look.
“I’m not gonna call the cops on you, it obviously wasn’t your fault.”
I’m used to people automatically assuming it was my fault, but I don’t have much choice but to get cleaned up before I show my face at home.
When I get back to the house, I’ve cleaned the blood off my face and I’m wearing a Fun Times Arcade t-shirt. My nose is swollen and sore but it’s not broken. There’s a bruise forming under one eye.
Nate’s SUV is parked up at the end of the driveway. There’s nothing I can do now. For some stupid reason, I think I might be able to pull it off. That they won’t notice I’ve just been headbutted and I’m wearing an arcade t-shirt that’s two sizes too small.