“Well, I have a car, you know. What about if we left town? What’s the closest place to go?”
Cody blinked at him in surprise. “Rock Springs.”
“Is there anything to do there?”
Cody’s eyes shifted to the side, and he bit nervously at his lip. He obviously had something in mind but didn’t seem to want to mention it.
“What is it?” Nate prodded.
“Well,” Cody glanced sideways at him, “there’s a store there.”
“What kind of store?”
A slow blush started to climb its way up Cody’s cheeks. “A clothes store.”
Nate wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but that sure as hell wasn’t it. “You want to go shopping? Are you serious?”
Cody blushed even more, and ducked his head. “Never mind,” he said, his voice quiet.
Nate was confused by Cody’s sudden embarrassment. He’d been teasing, but this was clearly something Cody couldn’t handle being hassled about.
“Cody?”
Cody looked cautiously toward him. His cheeks were still bright red.
“It’s cool, man. I’ll take you. Anything’s better than sitting here.”
A flash of hope lit Cody’s eyes, but he seemed to smash it down, grinding it out like he had his cigarette. “The thing is, it’s . . . Well, it’s a thrift shop, you know? Like, used clothes people donate.”
Used clothes?
Suddenly, the reason for Cody’s embarrassment was crystal clear, and Nate couldn’t even blame him for it. Secondhand stores were something he was vaguely aware of, but he’d never set foot inside of one. He’d always thought of them as places homeless people and bums went. Somehow, it hadn’t ever occurred to him that regular people shopped there. People his age.
People like Cody.
Cody was still looking at him, his cheeks red and a mute plea in his eyes—not asking if Nate would take him to Rock Springs, but asking Nate to please, please not laugh at him for this.
In some past life, he might have done just that. But not now.
“They have a McDonald’s there too, right?” Nate asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’d kill for a Big Mac right now.”
Cody gave him a big, broad smile that was cute as hell, and utterly contagious. “Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese—”
“Pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun.”
“Let’s go,” Cody said.
But Nate was already on his feet and running for the car.
They drove south to the interstate, then turned west. The sun was shining, semis blasting past them in the left lane, and the farther they got from Warren, the more Cody seemed to shine.
It was as if all his anger and resentment and embarrassment burned away as they drove, left somewhere behind them on the shimmering, hot asphalt. He smiled more. His laugh came easier. He fiddled with the radio and finally managed to tune in a rock station broadcast out of Salt Lake. It was more Cody’s music than Nate’s—Van Halen, Def Leppard, the Scorpions—but they both agreed it was better than nothing. By the time they pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot in Rock Springs, Nate was marveling at how much of Cody’s usual hostility seemed rooted in the dusty streets of his hometown.
Cody excused himself to use the bathroom as soon as they walked inside, and by the time he came out, Nate had already paid for a double order of Big Macs, fries, chocolate shakes, and apple pies.
And just like that, Cody’s newfound happiness wilted a little. The pained look that always haunted his eyes came back as he scanned the tray full of food. “I can pay you back.”
“Forget it,” Nate said, wanting only to see him relax again. “What the hell else am I going to spend my allowance on?”
They slid into opposite sides of a booth. Cody unwrapped his hamburger first, but Nate was dying for french fries.
“What in the world are you doing?” Cody asked as Nate took the lid off his chocolate shake and dipped a fry in it.
“I’ve been craving this ever since we moved.” He held the shake out to Cody. “Seriously, you’ve never dipped your fries into your shake?”
“No.”
Nate was about to say his mother had introduced him to the idea, but that seemed like a good way to wipe the smiles off both their faces fast. Instead, he ate another milkshake-coated fry, pushing the open cup toward Cody again. “Go on. Try it. You’ll never want ketchup again.”
Cody didn’t look too sure of the idea, but he obediently dipped one of his fries into the shake and put it in his mouth.
“Good, right?”
Cody tilted his head, still chewing, seeming to put way too much thought into whether or not he liked it.