Chapters (44)
She walks slowly until she’s within an arm’s length away. Up close, she’s even more beautiful, which seems like it should be impossible because she looked pretty damn good from a distance. She hands me one of the flutes, takes the flask, puts it to her lips, and tips it back without so much as a sniff or sip to test it first. She’s taken a healthy amount before she hands it back, eyes closed, and mouth twisted in displeasure. “You’re right on both counts.”
“Damn.” I take another, much smaller, drink. Who is this chick? I mean, I know who she is, but… damn. “That was impressive.”
“You say that now, but I might be sleeping right here tonight.” She shudders and coughs. “What was that?”
“Mostly Everclear. Little bit of Mountain Dew.”
“It tastes like rubbing alcohol.” She holds her hand out for the flask despite her obvious dislike for it.
“One hundred and twenty proof.”
She takes another drink.
“Go easy.”
When she hands the flask back this time, I pocket it. I know my limits, but I’m not sure she does. Lifting the champagne flute I’ve been holding for her, I ask, “This one for me?”
She shrugs. “Seems fair, I guess.”
I take a seat on the bottom step, one of three that leads up to the door. The sun just went down and there’s a nice breeze. I don’t know this girl, but this is the most at ease I’ve felt all day.
“Hiding from anyone in particular?”
“No. I’m hiding from everyone.”
“I feel that.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “Did Bri send you over here to mess with me?”
“Who’s Bri?”
She sighs and takes a seat next to me. “Roommate, teammate, captain, arch-nemesis.”
“Bad combo.”
“Who are you hiding from?”
“Myself. Everyone. No one.” I drain the rest of the bubbly in my glass and pull out my cigarettes. “You mind?”
She gives her head a little shake and watches as I light up.
“You want one?” I ask after I take my first drag and feel her eyes still on me.
“No. I just haven’t seen anyone smoke in… forever. You know what those things do to your lungs, right?”
I chuckle.
“Guess that rules out track.”
“What’s that?” I ask. Glancing over at her, my gaze is drawn to her green eyes—the color of summertime in northern Michigan where I grew up.
“I was trying to guess which sport you played.”
“Not track,” I confirm.
“Baseball?”
“Nope.”
“Football? Quarterback maybe?”
I shake my head. “I could just tell you.”
“What fun is that?”
My soft chuckle lingers between us, and we smile back at one another. It’s the first real smile to come from me all day. I put the cigarette in my mouth and extend my hand. “Nathan.”
“Chloe.”