Page 8

8

Caleb

W hatever possessed me to interrupt Nick’s family time, I’m glad I did it. I could see him having a quiet meltdown from across the café, and it got to me.

Why? Who the fuck knows.

All I know is that he somehow snapped out of it when I invited myself into their cute little family gathering.

I don’t get why he’s never brought his dad to his games, or why his dad never mentioned to him he watches them. They’re an odd family. Probably the type who keep their thoughts to themselves, despite the perfect images they project.

Looking at Nick’s dad, I can see where he gets his prim and proper image from. His mom seems a bit more laid-back, though she looks nothing like Nick—she’s a petite woman with platinum blonde hair, and her gray eyes are nothing like Nick’s dark brown ones.

I can’t help but watch them from behind the counter, strangely relieved that they’re a lot more relaxed now. I can’t understand their conversation, but Nick’s smiling widely, gesturing animatedly, while his dad nods over his coffee.

Jessie appears beside me, whispering, “I can’t believe he didn’t tell them we broke up. What was I expecting, though? He won’t even talk to me about it.”

Jessie’s great. I adore her, and I’m glad I made a friend like her at work. Now that I know why Nick broke up with her, though, her words make my jaw twitch. I give her a slight shrug as I grab a slice of cake for a customer.

She continues ranting, somehow under the idea that I want to hear all this. “He’s always been so… passive. I’m so over the nice guy act. He’s not even that nice, he simply doesn’t care.”

She lets out a quiet sniff and wipes her sleeve against her eyes.

“I just don’t understand. We had a good thing going. Why would he throw that away? Nobody will ever love him the way I do.”

My jaw twitches again. “And thank god for that, I guess.”

Uh.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jessie gapes at me. “Do… do you know something I don’t? Why did Nick ghost me?”

“I don’t know, Jessie. Do you think you making out with another guy had something to do with it?”

Goddamn it. This entire thing is so irritating that my brain-to-mouth filter is completely malfunctioning.

Jessie pales and she covers her gasp with a hand, her eyes going even more comically wide. “He knows about that? Who told him?”

“He saw.”

“He saw!?”

Her eyes get all watery again and her lower lip quivers. And I don’t know what to do because I’m not really all that equipped to deal with crying girls. Or girls at all, for that matter.

Nick and his parents get up and make for the door, and Nick glances over at us and gives me a weak smile. For some odd reason, I smile back, even if it’s really more of a grimace than anything else—because his ex is on the verge of crying.

Which he can’t see, because he’s not even looking her way.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” she whispers. “Caleb, cover for me a for a bit.”

“Ah? No. Jessie, don’t. Horrible idea.”

She’s already circling around the counter. “I won’t take long.”

Nick’s going to kill me. I’ve finally done it—this is what’s going to push him over the edge and make him choke me, and on purpose this time.

Okay, but. Nick choking me…

Focus.

Through the window, I watch as Jessie runs up to Nick’s family. She says something to Nick’s parents that has them smiling, then they wave at Nick and leave him behind with her.

Nick and Jessie talk right outside, with Nick staring at her blankly as she goes on and on. She still looks as if she’s on the verge of crying but holds back as she tells Nick whatever it is she wants to say.

I think she’s… apologizing? I can’t tell, though Nick listens to her, not once interrupting her.

Then he smiles, reaches out as if he’s about to hug her, then stops himself. Nick drops his hand back to his side and says something to her. She nods along, and soon enough, they go separate ways.

Just like that.

I’m left there wondering why the hell I just watched an entire conversation I can’t even hear, and why I was strangely invested in seeing how it would play out.

***

Nick doesn’t scare me.

Yet as I make my way back to our dorm, I’m dreading seeing him. Must be why I sniped a bag of cookies from the café. My plan is to throw it at him right as I see him. He always lights up each time I bring back something from the café, and I’m hoping that this time around, it’s enough for him not to get in my case about accidentally spilling to Jessie.

I open the door to our dorm and Nick’s sitting by his desk, a book laid open in front of him. He looks over his shoulder at me. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.” I toss the bag of cookies at him, which he catches with amazing reflexes. Nick swivels his chair around, beaming, and happily opens the bag. He practically inhales a cookie. His sweet tooth is on another level.

He’s not angry. I think?

I eye him as if he could pounce any minute—but he only sits there, way too excited that I handed him sweets, popping another cookie into his mouth.

“Um,” I say carefully, because I might as well bring it up myself rather than get stabbed in my sleep. “You and Jessie. You’re okay now?”

“I suppose.”

I plop down on the edge of my bed and wait for him to say more. When it’s clear that’s all he had to share, I lift my eyebrows at him. “What did she say?”

Nick clears his throat. “She apologized and said she was drunk, upset that I wasn’t there, and didn’t know what she was doing. Said it never happened before, and that she didn’t realize I knew about it. She thought I ghosted her for no reason.”

“Did she, um.” I clear my throat as well. “Did she ask to get back together with you?”

“No.”

Well. Okay, then.

I’m still not sure why I was so invested, but at least that’s over now. Nick puts the bag of cookies away and I get up to change out of my clothes, conscious of the way he tracks my movements.

“Have you had dinner?” he asks.

“Yeah, I ate at the café.”

“Got it.”

His disappointed tone makes me halt. I stare at him, my fingers frozen over the button of my jeans. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“I fucking swear to god, Nick, I told you to quit saying—”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go get something to eat.”

“Ah.” My hands drop to my side, and I look at him, baffled. “You haven’t eaten? It’s almost ten.”

“There’s this Mexican food truck a couple of blocks away that I wanted to go to that’s open until late.” Nick huffs out a laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “I was waiting for you in case you haven’t eaten.”

“Why didn’t you text me and ask?”

“I don’t know your number.”

“You’re kidding, right? It’s in the e-mail from the dorm—” I cut myself off and take a deep breath, asking the universe to give me patience. “All right. Let’s go.”

“But you’ve already eaten.”

“Hurry.” I grab my jacket and pull it back on. “Are we walking?”

His face lights up. “We can take my car.”

He’s parked a few minutes away, and his car’s an unassuming tiny Ford Fiesta. Not exactly the type of car that I’d expect from the son of a millionaire. Nick looks like a fucking giant in the tiny car, and I’m pretty sure I look just as ridiculous.

He drives us a few blocks away from campus and stops at a public parking, then he leads the way to an orange and green food truck. It must be a popular truck because there’s a bunch of people around, mostly people our age. We join the line, and I watch the wide smile that Nick wears as he looks over the menu board.

“Your treat,” I tell him, because I didn’t bother to bring my wallet. Besides, he’s loaded. “I don’t know what’s good, so get me whatever you’re getting.”

“Okay.”

Nick gets us both an order of burrito bowls, and I watch him put an obscene amount of spicy sauce on his. When he catches me looking, Nick smiles sheepishly, and then digs in. It’s a pretty heavy meal, especially at this time of the night, and I wonder what my health nut uncle would say if he saw us—especially since this was my second meal.

Watching Nick, I can’t help but admit that my impression of him has slowly changed during the weeks we’ve known each other. Maybe he’s more at ease with me, but his smiles don’t seem forced anymore—at least, not so as much as before.

“Want to try?” he asks, dangling the bottle of sauce in my face. “It’s really spicy, though. I’m not sure you can take it.”

“Is that a challenge? Put it in.”

“Not a challenge,” he says with a laugh.

“Doesn’t matter. Give it to me.”

He mumbles something about how weirdly competitive I am, which makes me puff out my chest, because hell yeah. I enjoy winning. Besides, he’s one to talk—the asshole threw a pillow at me last time we played Mario Party, annoyed that I didn’t row hard enough and that the timer had run out.

Nick squirts out some of the sauce on my bowl and I take a spoonful of food, making sure I get the sauce, and shove it in my mouth.

“Holy shit.” I gasp, my mouth burning, and he snickers and passes me my drink. I gulp it down in seconds. “Fuck you, actually.”

“Told you.”

I wipe the sweat off my brow and glare at him, eating around the sauce in my bowl.

“My mom used to make it even spicier,” he tells me, smiling. “I loved it when she cooked for me.”

“She doesn’t cook for you anymore?”

He shakes his head. “She passed away when I was twelve.”

My eyebrows clash together, and I give him a look, urging him to explain further.

“Earlier, that was my stepmom, Dianne. I used to live with my mom and when she passed away, I moved in with Dad and Dianne.”

Well, this is a lot to take in. He must take my silence the wrong way because he flushes.

Nick stammers, “S-sorry. That was a bit much.”

“Tell me more about your mom, Nicky.”

Nick stares at me as if I’d just asked him to jump off a cliff, all shocked and wide-eyed. Then a smile spreads across his face, and he tells me about all the kind of food that his mom used to cook for him. She was the type of mom who would cook a dish every day of the week if Nick said he liked it. He also tells me about how they’d cook together sometimes, and how patient she was despite the messes he’d make.

He chatters endlessly that I have to remind him that his dinner’s still in his hands, and then he laughs and digs in, still continuing to talk with his mouth full.

The prim and proper boy forgets his manners when he’s excited, apparently.

“Hey, Sandoval! Jennings!”

Both of us turn to see Vega and Walters walking up to us.

“I didn’t know you two hung out!” Walters says, putting his arm around Nick.

Frowning, I want to tell him to let go of Nick, then realize that’s a bizarre thing to say. The two of them chat with us, but mostly to Nick, and I keep my mouth shut, pissed that they interrupted us. It was nice hearing Nick talk about his mom. It almost gave him a personality.

Vega’s talking about a sorority party this weekend and is trying to convince Nick to come, saying that it’s time that he meets some new girls.

Aaand that’s my cue to stop listening.

My phone beeps and I use that as an excuse to turn away. After tossing my empty bowl in the trash can, I whip my phone out and smirk when I see I’ve got a new message from Dex—the guy I matched with a few days ago.

He’s asking if I want to meet up tomorrow. Tomorrow’s a Friday night and this guy obviously wants to hookup—and he has an actual personality and a hot body to go with it. Hooking up with him will probably make me stop thinking of Nick wrapping his huge hand around my neck.

The memory of Nick doing that makes my dick harden, and I internally curse myself. Dumbass dick of mine being into my straight roommate.

Then I overhear Walters tell Nick that he has a friend who’s asking for his number, and even if Nick’s laughing awkwardly and makes up a flimsy excuse about how he’s not a great texter, my dick deflates.

“Hey, Sandoval,” I say, once the other guys have left and we’re walking back to his car.

He frowns and opens his mouth and then closes it again. Not sure what that’s about, but I’m not in the mood to hear him say nothing again. “Yeah?” he asks.

“You got plans tomorrow?” I need to make sure he’ll be out, because Dex says his roommate will be at his place.

“Rhys and I are hanging out with his brother. You want to come?”

“Nah, was only curious.” I take my phone out again and send my room number to Dex. I really hope he’ll help me get over my dry spell.

And help me stop fantasizing about my roommate.