“Whoa, sorry,” I say as I bob and weave between them.

My Uber hasn’t shown so I wait by the curb impatiently, pacing up and down the short stretch of sidewalk.

“Yo, Payne’s girl. Chloe, right?”

I turn on my heel to see Frank walking up to the house. He’s got an easy smile and friendly demeanor about him that has me walking toward him. “That’s right.”

“Where’s Nathan?”

“Home. He had late practice today.”

“Lame,” Frank says. “I never see him anymore. You leaving already, too?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go see my lame man.”

He chuckles and scans the street. “Need a ride?”

I hold up my phone. “Waiting on an Uber. Should be here any minute.” I glance down and see the estimated time has increased and the driver’s Subaru has gone in the opposite direction.

“I could have you there and be back to the party by the time they get here.”

“That’s alright. Nathan’s probably sleeping by now anyway.”

Frank doesn’t move from his spot. His smile falls so that only one side of his mouth is pulled up into a half-grin. “Alright, well, it was good to see you again.” He starts to walk off and then turns. “Oh, hey.” He pulls out a cigarette, offers me one, and then lights it when I shake my head. He speaks again after he’s taken a long drag. “Could you give Nathan something for me?”

“Sure.”

He walks toward the curb and unlocks a black Jeep. He opens the back-passenger side seat and pulls out a Microeconomics textbook. “You’ll see that he gets it?”

I nod as I grab the thick textbook. “Sure. Did he leave it in class or something?”

Frank pauses a beat before nodding. I shove it in my backpack, and he closes the door and takes a step toward the party. “Thanks, Chloe, I appreciate it.” He motions toward the blue Subaru pulling up. “Looks like your ride finally made it.”

It takes forever to get to Nathan’s. Okay, it only takes five minutes but I’m so anxious that every second of the driver trying to make small talk feels long. The front door is open as Nathan said it would be and I hurry through, only pausing to yell hello to Datson sitting on the couch watching a baseball game.

Nathan’s room is dark, and I can just barely make out his shape on the bed. Quietly stepping out of my heels, I drop my backpack near the door and get in under the covers with him.

“Surfer Princess,” he whispers gruffly and pulls me into him without opening his eyes. “You’re a beautiful dream.”

I wake up sometime later plastered against Nathan. I lift my face from his sweaty chest and a deep groan from him startles me. His eyes are still closed, but his muscles twitch.