Leah on the Offbeat (Creekwood #2)(56)

“Do you think he’s pranking us?” asks Simon.

“I mean.” I tilt my head. “If he is, I don’t get it.”

But moments later, he bursts out of the front office, looking wild-eyed and disheveled. “Hey, you’re here. Cool, cool.”

Simon peers at his face. “Are you okay?”

“What? Totally!” He nods quickly. “Totally.”

For a moment, no one speaks.

“So, what’s going on?” I ask finally.

Nick’s eyes scan the room. And then he pauses. “Are you guys free right now?”

“I am.” Simon nods.

“Okay, good. Because I need you”—he points at me—“and you”—he points at Simon—“and me to go to my house and eat shitty food and play video games. Just like old times. No Abby, no Bram, no Garrett.”

“Okay, Garrett and I aren’t—”

He cuts me off. “Just us. The original trio.”

“Just us,” Simon echoes. “Okay, let me text Nora. If you can give me a ride, I’ll leave her the car.”

“Excellent,” says Nick, clamping a hand on each of our shoulders. Simon’s eyes flick toward me nervously.

None of us speaks as we drift through the parking lot. The sky is dark and gloomy, with gray clouds hanging low. I swallow a prickle of dread as I slide into the passenger seat. It’s only a short drive to Nick’s house, and Simon fills the space with frantic chatter—about Nora and Cal, about tuxedo rentals. Nick doesn’t say a word. He pulls straight into his garage and takes the spot where his mom usually parks. “They’re both on call all night,” he informs us. “And there’s beer.”

So, it’s that kind of night.

Nick grabs a six-pack and his acoustic guitar and heads down to the basement. I curl into one of the video game chairs, and Simon sprawls out on the couch. But Nick bypasses everything comfortable, opting instead for the floor, where he crosses his legs and starts tuning his guitar. Then he takes a sip of beer and does a few experimental strums, his shoulders finally relaxing.

“Um, Nick?” Simon says after a moment. “Why are we here?”

“You mean evolutionarily or existentially?”

Simon’s brow furrows. “I mean why are we in your basement?”

“Because we’re friends, and that’s what friends do. We hang out in basements.” He strums a chord and takes a long swig of beer. “Also, everyone else suuuuuucks.” He actually sings that last word instead of saying it.

Then he sets the beer down, repositions his guitar, and starts playing a melody so intricate, my eyes can’t keep up with his hands.

Simon slides off the couch and settles in next to Nick on the floor. “Okay, this sounds really great.”

“It sounds like shit,” Nick says, fingers still tearing across the frets. But he grins.

Simon pauses. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” Simon says. He looks up at me desperately.

I lean forward in my chair. “Nick, you’re freaking us out.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting super weird.”

“No I’m not.” He strums a loud chord. “I’m just.” Chord. “Making music.” Chord. “With my two best.” Chord. “Friends.” Then his hands fall suddenly still. “You know what’s really awesome?”

Simon looks hopeful. “What?”

“The fact that from now on, for the rest of my life, I can tell people I got dumped two weeks before prom.”

Yikes. I look at Simon. He puffs out his cheeks and then exhales loudly.

“Hilarious, right?”

I look at him. “Not really.”

“I was in love with her,” he says, his voice eerily calm. “And now she’s totally over it. Like, whatever. Just like that.”

“I don’t think that’s—” Simon starts to say.

“I’m just saying, do you even know what it’s like to be in love with someone like that?”

I almost choke.

“Dude, I’m like seriously worried about you right now,” Simon says. He glances at me again.

“Why? I’m fine.” Nick smiles brightly. “I’m totally fine. You know what I need?”

“What?”

He sets the guitar down and chugs the rest of his beer. Then he grabs another beer and chugs that one, too. “That,” he says, beaming. “God, I’m feeling so much better already.”

“Okay,” Simon says uncertainly. “Good.”

Nick gasps. “I just had an idea.”

“What?”

“We should play soccer!”

“Um.”

“Yeah, okay. This is a great idea. We’re totally doing this.” Nick nods eagerly. “Let me get my balls. Ha. My ball.”

Simon catches my eye and shakes his head wordlessly. For a minute, we just sit there, listening to Nick hum as he pokes around his storage closet. Already, he’s working on a third beer. And it’s not like I’ve never seen Nick drunk before, but I’ve never seen him this unhinged.