“I saw some parachute pants over there.” Nate pointed to the end of the row.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
Nate shrugged. “Eddie Van Halen wears them.”
“Maybe you ain’t noticed, but I’m not Eddie Van Halen. And neither are you.”
“I don’t know. I think you could pull it off. It’s that whole ‘bad boy’ thing. You just need a leather jacket to go with it.”
Again, he couldn’t tell if Nate was serious or not. He didn’t know if he should bother pointing out that if he was buying his jeans secondhand, it was a safe bet he couldn’t afford a leather jacket. Instead, he chose not to respond at all. He went back to sorting through jeans.
“You want me to pick you up on Tuesday?” Nate asked.
Cody winced, hoping Nate didn’t notice. “For what?”
“For school.”
“What do you mean?” It was a stupid question. Really, he was just stalling for time. He’d been anticipating this conversation, but having it now, in person, in a public place, was a lot more difficult than he’d pictured it being.
“What do you think I mean, genius? Do you want a ride to school?”
“I’m totally out of your way.”
“Cody, the town is two blocks wide. There’s no such thing as ‘out of my way.’”
He was exaggerating, but not by much.
“I thought it’d be cool if you’d hang out with me, you know?” Nate said, seemingly oblivious to Cody’s discomfort. “I mean, you’re the only friend I have. I don’t know my way around. I don’t even know where the school is, now that I think about it.”
Cody took a deep breath and made himself say the words he’d rehearsed in his head a hundred times, although he couldn’t look Nate in the eyes as he did. “You don’t want the others to know we’re friends.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” Fuck, what was he supposed to say? He made himself meet Nate’s confused gaze over the rack of clothing. “Because you don’t. That’s all.”
“You’re too cool to hang out with the preppy guy from Orange Grove? Is that it?” Nate actually seemed upset by the idea.
“Yeah, that’s it. I’m worried you’ll ruin my rep.”
Nate actually looked a bit hurt by that comment, like he didn’t quite realize Cody was being sarcastic.
Cody sighed and tried a different tactic: the truth. “Think about it, man. Have you seen anybody else in Warren speak to me?”
“We hang out in a cow field. I haven’t seen anybody out there at all.”
Good point. Still, he didn’t understand. How could he? But once school started, he would.
“The thing is, you’re gonna be in classes with all those assholes from the Grove. They’re gonna be curious about you, trying to figure out if you’re cool or not. And they’re gonna tell you things about me.” Cody stared at the hangers on the metal bar in front of him so he wouldn’t have to see Nate’s face. “Some of what they tell you will be lies, but some will be true. And either way, you won’t want to be seen with me after that.” There was not an itch in his throat as he said those words. He refused to acknowledge it. “Being the new kid is tough enough. No need to make things worse by showing up on your first day with the class pariah.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nate duck his head. Nate started sorting through the shirts in front of him, even though Cody didn’t think he was seeing any of them. When Nate finally glanced up again, his cheeks were red. Was he embarrassed, or mad?
“I’ll be at the gas station at seven thirty,” he said. “You better be there.”
A new coat was going to have to wait, but the money from his mother was enough to cover a couple of pairs of jeans, a few T-shirts, a hooded sweatshirt, and—best of all—a pair of barely used black Converse that actually fit. Cody had always hated having to buy shoes secondhand, but at least he’d managed to score a pair that didn’t scream “trailer park.” Hell, even those assholes from the Grove wore Converse.
He was more nervous than usual on the first day of school. Nate had made him promise more than once that he wouldn’t stand him up. He was like a damn dog with a bone, stuck on the idea that having Cody with him on the first day would somehow make it easier. No matter how many times Cody tried to tell him the opposite was true, Nate insisted, which was how Cody found himself at the gas station, climbing into Nate’s car at seven thirty in the morning on the day after Labor Day.
He’d gotten used to his car, but Nate looked different. During the few short weeks of their friendship, he’d let his preppiness slide a bit. Cody hadn’t quite realized he was doing it until he saw Nate all decked out for school with his collar flipped up and his newly cut hair all moussed into place. He was even wearing a Members Only jacket, with the sleeves pushed partway up his forearms.