Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
" S o how did it go?" Nathan asked, briefly taking his eyes off the road to look at me, concerned.
"Not well."
It had been days since the fight with my mom. I studiously avoided all contact with her, only going in and out through the basement apartment door, ignoring her knocks when she tried to talk to me, and refusing to respond to her text messages.
Maybe it was immature of me, but I didn't need to sit around and listen to another lecture about how I didn't know what was best for me. It was my life. I was going to live it the way I wanted.
"What did she say?" Nathan asked.
I didn't want to give him all the details, but I could at least let him know his "be truthful with them" idea had not gone exactly as planned.
"She pulled the mom card, told me what I can and cannot do and basically made me feel like a child again."
He reached over the gearstick and took my hand.
"Sorry," he said. "I guess, since I always tell my mom everything, I thought it would go better. I don't keep a lot of things from her."
"It sounds nice, to have a mom you can confide in like that."
"I'm sorry you don't."
"I can for some things," I told him. "But when it comes to anything related to my well-being, she goes a little nuts."
"I can understand that," he said.
"I think she's exceptionally touchy when it comes to guys," I said. "When my previous boyfriend dumped me, I think it hurt her as much as me. She'd let someone into our family, in a way. Trusted them to care for me. And he betrayed that. I think it gave her more of a complex than it did me. She's worried you're going to leave me when…"
I didn't want to finish the sentence. I didn't want Nathan to know I was worried about it, too.
How would he react, when he realized exactly how hard it was to be close to someone like me? Nathan hadn't had to deal with any doctor's appointments or surgeries yet. The closest he'd come was when I'd had that panic attack after zorbing. He'd been wonderful and caring back then, but it was such a minor event. Who knew what would happen if he had to watch me go through something worse?
"When what?" Nathan asked. "What is she worried about?"
"Oh, the usual," I said. "She's worried about a boy breaking my heart and hurting me. The same as any other parent, I suppose."
His brows drew down into a frown. "I'd never hurt you."
I rubbed my hand along his shoulder reassuringly.
"I know you wouldn't."
I'd been worried, before, but now that I was sure of Nathan's intentions, my fears had faded. I didn't know exactly what the future held in store for us, but I knew he was telling the truth. He'd never intentionally do anything to hurt me. He cared about me.
"Have you been avoiding your parents this whole time?" he asked. "You can always stay at my place if you need to."
"Thank you," I said without taking him up on the offer. It was sweet of him, but I didn't want to invade his space like that. Not so soon in our relationship.
My phone buzzed. I grabbed it from my purse. Another text.
Rebecca Miller, we need to talk.
"Guess I really am in trouble," I said. "She only uses my full name when she's pissed."
"Do you want me to introduce myself to her? Try to show her I'm?—"
"Good god, no!" I interrupted. "No. It's best if you don't meet them. Not yet."
"Wow. That's an intense reaction." His lips twitched into a small smile. "Am I really that disturbing to parents?"
"Maybe not to other parents. But to mine? Even a saint wouldn't be good enough in their eyes." I sighed and thumped my head back against the seat. "Let's give them some time to get used to the idea before flaunting a tattooed rocker in their face."
"Sounds fair." Nathan turned the wheel and pulled into a parking lot of a large, industrial-looking building. "Here we are."
"This is it?"
I had decided to take Nathan up on his offer to go indoor-skydiving. From what I'd seen on video clips from the internet, you essentially threw yourself down into a giant wind tunnel and rode the air currents, simulating free-fall. It looked invigorating. It looked terrifying.
It was exactly what I needed right now to forget about my problems.
When we went inside, I headed over to the counter to line up for tickets. Nathan stopped me.
"I've got them already," he said. "We can walk right in."
I smiled up at him. "You always think of everything."
How I ever thought this man was irresponsible, I had no idea.
But as it turned out, we couldn't walk right in. There were multiple steps before we were able to jump down the hole. First we needed to watch a video presentation where they explained the science behind the wind machine that would keep us from falling to our gruesome deaths. After that we needed to go through orientation, where they gave us hands on training on exactly what to do, how to jump and how to maneuver in the tunnel.
After a half an hour, we were brought to the room with the wind tunnel and sized for our flight outfits, which looked liked orange prison jumpsuits. Before we put them on, we were asked to sign consent forms. I skimmed it, knowing it was probably the same deal as with zorbing, releasing them from any lawsuits if we got injured.
I was about to scribble my name on the bottom of the sheet when Nathan put a hand on mine.
"Wait," he said. "Let me finish reading this part before you sign."
He studied the contract for long minutes with a frown. Finally, he looked up at me.
"You can't do this," he said.
"What?" I asked, confused. "Why not?"
He tapped on a paragraph near the middle. "It says people with certain heart conditions aren't supposed to do this. Not if they don't have their doctor's permission."
I groaned. "Nathan, that's just standard language on any contract for things like this. They just want to make sure no one sues them just in case something goes wrong."
"Exactly," he said. "What if something does go wrong? I don't want you getting hurt."
I suppressed a growl, exhaling heavily through my nose. Those words were too close to what my mom had been harping on about.
"It's fine," I told him. "I don't need to see my doctors for every little thing. They've already said I'm good for things like this."
"For exactly this?" he asked dubiously. "They specifically said you can go indoor skydiving?"
"They didn't give me a list! They just said I'm okay to take part in regular activities."
"I doubt regular means this."
"And how would you know?"
"I've been reading up on it."
I blinked at him, surprised. "You have?"
"Yeah. I've been reading blogs and medical journals and stuff. I wanted to know more about what you've been through."
I was shocked and warmed at the same time. I hadn't thought Nathan would put so much effort into understanding my condition. Still, it didn't give him the right to tell me what to do.
"Just because you read some blogs doesn't make you my doctor," I told him firmly. "You don't know more than them."
"I'm sorry, but it's too risky."
I gaped at him. "Are you serious right now? You're really going to stand there and tell me to my face that you have the right to dictate what I can and cannot do? You're as bad as my mother!"
"Well, maybe I understand her a bit better now," he shot back. "We both just want to make sure nothing bad happens to you."
"Nothing bad is going to happen!" I shouted, frustrated. "I'm literally going to have wind blowing in my face. That's it. I don't have to go to the doctor every time I want to have a little fun."
"You're going to be in free-fall for a full minute. You're tricking your brain into thinking you're plummeting to the ground. You really think you should do that without talking to your doctor?" Nathan shook his head sadly and pulled the two admission tickets from his pocket. "I hate to do this Becca, but I can't let you risk yourself."
He ripped the tickets in half.
I stared at him, disbelieving. "Why the hell did you do that?"
"It's too dangerous," he said.
I clenched my jaw until it ached.
"I told you I'd never hurt you," he said. "And I'm not going to let you hurt yourself."
"Do you realize how condescending you're being right now?" I hissed.
He just looked at me, regret on his face.
Fury rose in my chest.
Fuck his regret.
I grabbed my bag and stormed off.
"Becca, don't go!" Nathan called out. "Let's talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about." I whirled back around with a glare. "I can't be with someone who treats me like I'm made of glass!"
I turned around and left him there, staring at me helplessly.