Chapter 12
Twelve
“But like, how much do you really know about him?”
“A lot, actually.”
“Like what?”
I groaned and shot Nikki a stern look as I rolled to a stop at a red light.
While Brooklyn and I had casually continued texting throughout the week, the state fair hadn’t come up again, and I didn’t want to be the one to bring it up in case he had changed his mind.
I thought if I could pick my sister’s much more boy-experienced brain about it, I’d come to a logical solution.
Instead, she’d turned it into an interrogation after I’d picked her up from her weekly group therapy session.
“Is this you actually asking me for my own sake, or are you being nosy?”
“Both.”
I heaved out a sigh and lowered the volume on a boygenius song that was playing on the stereo. “He went to Clayton University. He played baseball. He likes movies. He listens to mostly ’90s grunge. He has a younger sister. Should I continue?”
The light turned green and I fixed my gaze back on the road. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her lips curl downward.
“I’m really not trying to be a bitch or anything. I’ve seen people like him in rehab. They have an illness, Nat. I just want you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I’m not getting into anything,” I insisted.
“He was upfront and honest with me from the get-go, and I feel like that counts for something. He also didn’t have to help us out with Gracie last week, and he did, so I think he’s proven he’s a pretty decent guy.
Just because you interacted with someone who had a similar problem as him does not mean all people with that problem are the same. ”
I really didn’t like it when I became aware of the sternness in my voice—as if I was scolding Nikki like she was my child and not my sister.
“Look, if you really need more convincing, then come with us this weekend. Actually, you should come anyway because it’ll be fun. I think we both deserve that.”
“I don’t wanna third wheel you guys,” she grumbled.
“First of all, you can’t third wheel something that’s most definitely not a date,” I scoffed. “And second of all, his sister and a few of their friends are going too. It’s like a whole social hangout thing.”
Nikki snickered. “When was the last time you had a social hangout thing?”
“Exactly my point.” I hit the steering wheel with the heel of my palm. “That’s why I need you there. To help with my social hangout thing skills.”
“You don’t actually need any help, you know.
” Nikki’s voice had softened, and when I stole another glance at her, she was pulling at the frayed edges of her bright-pink hoodie.
“I know you like being on your own and all, but anyone you meet immediately likes you. You don’t even have to try. It’s kind of annoying, actually.”
She smirked at me, and I reached over the center console to hold her hand. “I must have learned that from you.”
Nikki snickered again. “No way, I’m not nearly as annoying.”
>> <<
As it turned out, Brooklyn had assumed that since I’d said yes to going to the state fair last week, there was absolutely no need to confirm that and instead had simply informed me Saturday afternoon that he’d be picking us up at six.
I hated being unprepared, and suddenly that was exactly what I was.
As soon as I yelled across the hall for Nikki, she immediately went into outfit-scheming mode, and despite the situation, it was nice to see her really getting back to being herself.
“Okay, okay, okay.” She paced the shaggy carpet of her room while I sat cross-legged in front of her.
“This is definitely the kind of thing that people dress up for. You know, social media photo ops and all. So, it’s nice out, but it’s gonna get dark, and it’s still that time of year where the temperature drops when the sun goes down, so we’ll need layers but ones that look like they’re part of the outfit. ”
Nikki walked to her closet and shuffled through things, and the sound of the hangers scraping across the tension rod gave me goose bumps.
“You run a lot colder than I do,” I told her. “I don’t need layers.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but if I was going to be standing around Brooklyn all night, I could spontaneously combust at any given moment.
Nikki poked her head out of the closet. “Does he have cute friends?”
“I believe he has a friend. No idea what he looks like.”
Nikki threw a pair of navy-and-white-plaid, boxer-looking shorts at me. “These are cute. You should wear them with one of your dozen librarian button-down shirts.”
I scoffed. “They’re not librarian shirts, they’re very practical and they go with everything.”
“Exactly, including those.” She nodded to the shorts I’d picked up to study.
“These look like old-school men’s boxers.”
“They’re very trendy.” Nikki waved me off. “And will look great with your stallion legs.”
I knew what my sister knew better than I did—like trendy fashion choices.
So I steamed a white button-down shirt from Gap, threw on a pair of Vans, and quickly tied my hair into a braid.
When I went back to her room, Nikki had pulled on a pair of purple-and-pink-checkered pants and a baby tee with an eight ball printed on it.
Her clothes were really beginning to fit her again, and I didn’t realize how much something so seemingly simple would matter.
I smiled at her, and when she noticed, she shot me a suspicious look.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “I like your pants.”
Nikki eagerly stuck one of her legs out for show. “Yeah? They’re so old.”
“And they look great, so please don’t do the thing you do where you change fifteen times right when we’re supposed to leave, because he’s going to be here in five minutes.”
“I won’t, I won’t.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Same goes for you. I told you those shorts were cute.”
“They still look like boxers.” I pulled at the hem. “But I digress. I’m comfortable and somewhat fashionable.”
“That’s the spirit!”
We both said goodbye to Gracie—who was much more cognizant and aware now that she wasn’t doped up on Acepromazine (which, we learned, was not something Borzois should be taking), and as we made it downstairs, Brooklyn pulled up in his topless, doorless Jeep.
Stella sat in the back with a guy I didn’t recognize, meaning they’d left the front seat open for me, a small gesture that I unfortunately could not stop myself from reading into.
The front seat was a thing reserved for the significant other of whoever was driving.
“Confirmed, friend is cute,” Nikki whispered through her teeth as we walked down the porch steps.
Cute friend, with floppy dark hair and a strong jawline that didn’t seem to match his rather small stature, was introduced as Alec—Brooklyn’s close (and seemingly only) friend he’d mentioned in passing a few times.
When I lifted myself into the passenger seat, Brooklyn silently handed me the aux cord.
It took a certain level of trust with someone to let them play their music in your car, and the thought that he had that trust in me made my insides feel all warm and staticky.
“Cute pants,” Stella said to Nikki as she slid into the middle seat.
“Oh, thanks, I actually got them at Goodwill.”
“Love a good thrift,” Stella continued. “I got a vintage Miu Miu pashmina last year at Reinvented downtown.”
“No way.”
“This conversation is officially in a foreign language,” I leaned over and whispered to Brooklyn, and he snickered in response.
In the rearview mirror I saw the three of them squished together, their knees and shoulders rubbing against each other with every dip and turn Brooklyn took; far too close to be comfortable, and yet Nikki smiled the whole car ride.
The fair was already crowded even though dusk had started to creep into the sky.
The setup took over the entire parking lot of the old convention center that bumped up against the harbor, with everything from a Ferris wheel and the Gravitron ride to cotton candy and popcorn machines spanning every free corner of the parking lot.
“You know, one time Brooklyn rode that thing upside down,” Alec, who’d naively wedged himself between us, mentioned offhandedly as he pointed to the Gravitron.
“Yeah, and then I puked afterward,” Brooklyn scoffed.
“So I take it you don’t want to ride it, then?” I asked him, and he vehemently shook his head.
“No fucking way. I still don’t understand how it even works.”
“Centrifugal force,” Alec chimed in, keeping the slight monotonousness I’d learned was his usual tone.
“Although actually, the reason you’re pushed back against the wall is the result of inertia.
For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction.
So as the wall pushes on you as the rider, your body pushes back against the wall, which creates friction, thus making you feel like you’re stuck to the wall. ”
“You’ll have to excuse Alec.” Brooklyn draped his arm over his friend’s shoulders. Alec wasn’t short, but he looked it next to Brooklyn. “He forgets that not everyone is as fluent in nerd as he is.”
“Well, I thought that was a very eloquent explanation,” I told Alec with a nod. “I’m with Brooklyn, though, that doesn’t make me feel any better about going on it.”
“Maybe you should brush up on your nerd, then.” Alec directed his comment to Brooklyn, wiggling out from underneath his arm.
Their personalities were oil and water, but at the same time, they exuded a similar type of energy, bouncing off one another with an ease that was expected of two people who had been friends as long as they had.
Middle-school playground love never died.
Neon lights from the rides dotted the pavement as we walked along the side of the carnival where all the games were set up underneath faded white tents.
Alec had fallen back in step with Nikki and Stella, strolling a few paces behind Brooklyn and me, and every so often I could hear hushed whispers and silly giggling.