“My shout for being an awesome friend, and for you putting up with my overwhelming vibration skills,” I say.
“You are a good friend,” he agrees.
I walk off, shaking my head at what that was meant to mean. He totally ignored my keep-it-cool joke at the end. He never ignores my vibrato jokes.
I line up, and then remember I didn’t ask what size, so I mime out sizes and he confirms he wants the large.
Nate: No funky business Kall Bell. Just a cap.
Kalli: I’m surprising u.
Nate: I like 2 know.
Kalli: I know, but knowing is boring.
I wait for his reply to that, all the while smirking to myself, and refusing to look at him other than over my shoulder from under my lashes. However, a pissed off middle-aged lady clears her throat and says I don’t have all day with that pissed off stare so I hurry up and close the gap.
I actually don’t know what to order so I pick the first thing I see for me—a latte. For Nate, I scan until I see a vanilla chai latte and ask for extra cinnamon on top. The guy goes nuts for cinnamon, so this is my key to getting him to try this.
When I sit down, he says, “This is why I like to know!” He points at the drink.
I know he’s joking, I know we’re bantering, but I snap anyway.
“Well sometimes knowing is fucking shit, okay?”
He bites his lip, and I bet he doesn’t notice, but his muscles tense, too, and I feel guiltier for being a bitch because that just turned me on. He’s so close to saying something. It’s not only in the gap between his lips, but the concern in his eyes, and the cutthroat tension eating me up inside.
But, after a whole minute’s silence in the bustle of this busy café, the first thing I say is, “I know it looks girly, but it’s that good, you’ll let your pride down just to drink it.”
He is blank for a moment then snaps those gorgeous pale eyes to the drink. He must decide he’s better off shutting up and drinking, and when he puts the mug down I say, “Mind-blowing, huh?”
“Is everything okay at home?”
“What! Why?”
Nate pushes aside the vanilla chai latte and rests his elbows on the table, clasping his hands in front. “You get edgy when your mum’s done something extra stupid, or when you’re worried about the twins.”
“You’re astute.”
He looks away. When he returns, he seems unsure. “But you’re not okay?”
His concern stutters my heart, and I have to put a fist to my chest just to calm the sensation. I let out my breath, take a gulp of my latte for luck.
“It was so bad Saturday, after the party,” I start.
“Kall … I’m so sorry I was drunk. I never should have let—”
I place my hands on his to reassure him. “No, I’m still happy I sucked your cock.”
“Christ, fuck,” he says, bobbing his head down and visibly squirming from my bluntness. “That’s one way to lighten the mood.”
I wink at him, but then return to my tone before. “She went out with Betsy again. I came home at three am. The sitter had to leave because Mary hadn’t left enough cash.”
Nate starts to get it, and it’s like watching a car crash. The absolute horror of the scene unfolding—the one thing that makes you want to turn away and erase the awful memory is the exact thing that has you wanting to get closer, needing to watch the horrible conclusion.
“Seth and Tristan were up still. The sitter was kind enough to leave the Toy Story trilogy on back-to-back, but I guessed she left ages before I got there. Shit, they’re my baby brothers, you know?”
If I were a crier I’d break down and baulk out a horrible dying sound to express the rotting feeling inside, but I’m too pissed off for that. Feeling the anger needing a release I slam my fist onto the table, making our cups jump.
“She doesn’t give a flying fuck about our world if it doesn’t include ‘fun’.” My breaths are shallow and I’m feeling light-headed but I continue, saying, “Mary Jane stumbles—literally—in at six, high as a kite and not a clue as to why I wanted to throttle her.”
It takes a minute for me to calm down. It takes a minute of me growling to myself through the frustration that won’t quiet or behave in this public place. It takes a minute of me attempting deep breaths, to counteract the dizzy feeling in my head, to calm my pinging nerves.
By this stage, I’m too late already. I should have been more careful, but then again, I’m Kalli, the girl without social skills.
“Nate, I didn’t … I’m so insensitive. Sorry for …”
If I’ve had it shit all my life, Nate had every moment of that shittiness crash down on him at once when his mum died. When I get angry like this, it’s too easy to complain about how I have it when he doesn’t have it at all, and would love to have any extra moment with his mum.