12. Adaline
It’s hard to admit that I loved Nate Patricks once.
It’s harder to think about the reasons why I fell in love with him in the first place.
The way he’d glance at me during English, smirking at how quickly I filled up everypiece of paper on my desk. How nervous I could tell he was when he held my hand before we jumped off the pier and into the waves together. The way I felt his heartbeat gradually speed up on my back as I cuddled up into him on the bus ride home.
I don’t think I’ve ever given myself time to mourn him, the boy I fell in love with.Not properly. I think it was only now that I realised he was truly gone.
The splash of realisation hit me in the face the second he laughed atme just now. So casually cruel and making me feel only inches tall… so helplessly naive that I ever fell for him.
I wonder if the reason he never showed up, after spending a year away from me whileI fought against Hollywood’s lights and seedy reporters, while he went to college like he wanted, will be one of life’s great unanswered questions.
You know, like how we’ll never truly know how large the universe is or how manystars hang above us when we look up into the night sky, I wonder if the reason Nate Patricks chose not to meet me that day will be eternally speculated.
Only by me, though. Seeing as though we refuse to clue anyone up about our past.
Which is becoming awkward, to be honest with you. Especially with the loved-up pairthat have just sat down around the dining table after preparing a meal worthy of more than just our attention.
“This smells incredible. Thank you, you two. I really mean it.” Nate says from theopposite end of the table, tanned skin glowing under the lights. Which reminds me to ‘thank’ Flo for placing us directly opposite one another.
Meddling Brit.
“I can’t take credit for this one, this is all Jacob.” Flo beams as she rests her handunder her chin, tilting her head and winking at her boyfriend. “He’s a gooden.”
Jacob’s cheeks are painted a faint crimson. “I’m pretty happy with it too. Let’s justpray it tastes okay. If it doesn’t, Nate can choose what to order for takeout.”
A chuckle erupts from every mouth at the table, including Nate’s. “J, it looksamazing. Thanks, man,” he says, a smile curling up his face.
“Well, Happy Birthday, Nate.” Jacob hoists up the beer bottle to the left of his plate,leading us in a cheer. “To chapter twenty-six, man.” he calls, Flo and I muttering another ”Happy Birthday” to Nate, while his cheeks mirror Jacob’s.
I wasn’t lying before when I told him I wanted to find out how he was. I was askingpurely for the girl who spent so many of his birthdays away from him, who wanted to know if he still hated them as much as he once did.
From the way his head quickly dipped when we wished him a ”Happy Birthday” justnow, and how I can practically see the scarlet colours of his cheeks reflecting off the marble surface of the table, I’m going to take a stab in the dark and assume that his hatred for them tops his hatred for me.
And I didn’t blame him when he confessed to me, three days before his thirteenthbirthday, that he found them terrifying. The Happy Birthday song is just plain creepy, if you think about it.
I just wanted to make some of that hurt float away when he told me, and that waswhen we came up with our birthday plan. One we used for both of our birthdays each time they rolled around. Granted, we only used this plan a few times before we never saw each other again, but I can still remember them as clear as day.
Twelve Years Ago
“Nate, I like you and all, and I know your birthdays are all about you now, but I am not doing a Stars Wars watch-a-thon,” I say to him, but the way he’s looking up at me with all five DVD’s spread out like a deck of cards and that innocent twinkle in his eye, I almost want to say yes.
Almost. Space movies aren’t exactly my thing.
If he would’ve suggested reading from sunrise to midnight? I would’ve probablykissed him.
That thought swishes in my head for a split second, before I force it to fade away. Idon’t think he sees me that way.
He doesn’t say anything; all he does is keep his sparkly green gaze on me, like heknows I’ll eventually crack. I won’t, but if he keeps this up any longer, I can’t be sure.
I try to make my eyes the thinnest I can, proving to him that I won’t crack—
“Please, Addy,” he says, his voice cracking in the way he thinks I will if he keeps upthe doh-eyed Bambi look.
But then I remember what he did to even be debating this with me right now. Thescene of him finally telling his mom and dad how he hated these days on his thirteenth birthday last year played across my mind, as I crouched behind the bushes just under the windowsill, watching my best friend be the bravest I’d seen him…
A sigh slips out of me.“Fine, I’ll watch one.”
“Four,” he fires back, that smirk he saves for me creeping on the corners of hismouth.
“Two,”
He huffs. “What is the point of watching two? You might as well just watch three toget the original trilogy. Watching the first two is like reading the first four books in that Lost Kingdom series you wrote and never bothering with the last one! It’s also like—”
“Fine! Okay. We’ll watch the original triangle.” I rush out, his smirk not making mefeel warm like it did a second ago. Irritated, more like.
“You mean the original trilogy?” He bats back, his eyes narrowing.
I narrow mine, taking the first three DVDs from his grasp.“Do you want me to watchthem or not?” His stare softens, as he places the other two movies back on the shelf behind him. “I thought so. Now, are we watching them here or at my place?” I ask, inspecting the blurbs on the DVDs, hoping it’ll spark the tiniest bit of interest.
“We’ll stay here. I’ve got something we need to do before we watch the moviesanyway,” he says, his steps taking him down the hallway and into his kitchen.
“Oh yeah, and that would be?” I ask as I follow behind him, my intrigue only growingwhen I see the baking set-up that’s spread out across the grey granite counter.
“Cinnamon buns.”
“Addyyyy?” Flo drawls, her voice all cloudy in my ears. “Jacob, what the hell did youput in this pie? She’s not blinking.”
Flo’s worried tone eventually breaks through, my eyes coming together and snappingme out of the flashback. I meet Nate’s eyes first, regrettably, and he’s looking at me like he can see every little memory that has just taken over my conscience.
I flick my dry eyes over to Flo, then to Jacob, both nearly finished with their mealsand staring at me like I’ve sprouted three heads.
“You okay, Add’s?” Jacob asks. “Where’d you just go?”
My spine feels funny as I shake it, stretching it and shimmying my butt on the chaircushion beneath it. I’m hoping I’ll shake the memory of what happened with Nate earlier, too.
It’s scary how I can still feel him, pressed against my back, the ghost of his fingerskimming the skin of my neck, tucking my hair behind my ear like he had any right to.
Why did you let him do it then?
“Oh, God, sorry. I completely spaced out.” I laugh it off. “Just… a lot on my mind, Iguess.” I rush, my eyes jumping to Nate and then back to my plate, reminding me to eat.
I scoop up some of the pie on my fork and plunge it into my mouth, hoping the actionwill cause everyone to carry one where they left off before they clocked I was in a daze.
“Well,” Flo starts, sliding her knife and fork together in the centre of her plate, ever sopolitely. “I was going to ask about how the shoot is going.” Mine and Nate’s eyes lift to meet each other, our faces staying put before another laugh blurts out of Flo. “Guys, relax, I didn’t mean you two; I meant, how is it looking? You know, the actual movie? I was obsessed with that book when it came out, and I never usually like romances.”
“Weirdo,” I butt in, before one of Flo’s peas she left on her plate meets my temple.“Hey—”
“I just wanted to make sure they’re doing it justice. You know how these adaptationscan be. Half the time, it’s like these writers never read the book.” she admits, before throwing me a napkin to wipe the gravy from the side of my face.
I scoop up another piece of pie. “It’s going well. I don’t think either of us has met theauthor yet so I can’t say whether she’s happy or not—”
“I met her.” His voice rings across the table, stopping me mid-sentence.
I should be used to how rude he is now, but I’m not.
“Oh,” I slip out, eating the bit of pie and washing it down with the cocktail next tome.
“Yeah,” Nate breathes, mimicking Flo’s plate and grabbing the glass next tohim, his eyes hopping over everything but me. “She came in last week, only for a second, but she said she’d watched the two scenes that had been filmed so far and was happy with them.” Before the rim of the glass meets his lips, he says, “She mentioned that she really liked how you were playing Anastasia.”
The second his words coat my ears, coupled with the way he’s actually holding mystare, something weird happens. Warmth. Right in the centre of my chest. For a second, I think maybe Jacob did spike the pie, and I was having a bad reaction to it.
But I’ve felt this before. Years ago. When I first met him. When I was hanging halfmy body out of my window, trying to get a better look at who I’d accidentally attacked with my water balloon, the moment I saw that fresh meadow gaze and floppy brown hair, I felt what I was feeling now, pooling in my chest.
“Really?” I whisper slightly, like I can’t quite believe the man who just laughed in myface as I was crying was relaying a compliment.
“Yeah, said you made her even more fiery, and likeable.” He chuckles, and it’s crazyhow much my mind is confusing that sound for hope. Dangerous, heartbreaking hope.
I have to shut my eyes for a second, reminding myself that he laughed at me while Istood there like a lamb, quietly pleading with him to stop all this and just be honest about why he left me.
Reminding myself that this was all an act.
The man sitting across from me can’t stand me, but because our best friends arehere… it’s like our history never happened. The man who brought me and Amber coffee last week after finishing a scene doesn’t want me in his life, but because there was someone else buzzing around us? He liked me.
“Well,” I croak, “I’ll have to thank her when I see her.”
Silence clouds the table after that, looming over the four of us like the dim, exposedlightbulbs, shining light on everything we’d left unspoken.
Sometimes I wish there was a way to let Florence and Jacob know about our pastwithout actually having to tell them. It was a conversation that was well overdue for Jacob, and Flo deserved to know just as much.But how could we tell our friends about what happened if we can’t even talk about itourselves?
“Well, I think it’s time for dessert!” Flo announces, breaking the silence. “Addy,wanna help me dish up?” She asks, and I give her a nod.
We slip off our chairs and round up everyone’s plates. “Jacob, that pie was to die for;I’m gonna steal the recipe if I find it while I’m in there,” I say, pointing to the kitchen.
He beams a more than proud smile. “Wait until I tell my moms that people arebegging me for my recipes now.” he chuckles, as does Nate, who eyes me as I take his plate.That warmth I’d felt before hit me like a punch to the gut. I snapped my eyes awayfrom him, reminding myself that it wasn’t real.
My ballet flats tap me into the kitchen, finding Flo pulling a tray of something thatsmells hauntingly familiar out of one of the ovens. “Oh my God, they smell incredible! What on earth are they?” I ask as I slide the plates into the dishwasher, brushing my dress free from crumbs before I hover over her shoulder.
My lungs turn to ice blocks when my eyes land on the tray in her hands, my bloodrunning glacier cold. Too cold for something that looks so yummy.
Universe? Is this some sort of sick joke?
“Look! I made cinnamon buns!”