Lock and Key(44)

“Where’s Gervais?” I asked.

“Doctor’s appointment,” Nate said.

I nodded, then I settled into my seat to enjoy the ride. My relief must have been palpable, because a moment later Nate said, “You know, he’s not so bad.”

“Are you joking?” I asked him.

“I mean,” he said, “I’ll admit he’s not the easiest person to be around.”

“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s horrible.”

“Come on.”

“He stinks,” I said, holding up a finger. Then, adding another, I said, “And he’s rude. And his burps could wake the dead. And if he says one more thing about my books or my classes I’m going to—”

It was at about this point that I realized Nate was looking at me like I was crazy. So I shut up, and we just drove in silence.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “it’s a shame you feel that way. Because I think he likes you.”

I just looked at him. “Did you not hear him tell me I was fat the other day?”

“He didn’t say you were fat,” Nate replied. “He said you looked a little rotund.”

“How is that different?”

“You know,” he said, “I think you’re forgetting Gervais is twelve.”

“I assure you I am not.”

“And,” he continued, “boys at twelve aren’t exactly slick with the ladies.”

“‘Slick with the ladies’?” I said. “Are you twelve?”

He switched lanes, then slowed for a light. “He teases you,” he said slowly, as if I was stupid, “because he likes you.”

“Gervais does not like me,” I said, louder this time.

“Whatever.” The light changed. “But he never talked to Heather when she rode with us.”

“He didn’t?”

“Nope. He just sat back there, passing gas, without comment. ”

“Nice,” I said.

“It really was.” Nate downshifted as we slowed for a red light. “All I’m saying is that maybe he just wants to be friends but doesn’t exactly know how to do it. So he says you smell like trees or calls you rotund. That’s what kids do.”

I rolled my eyes, looking out the window. “Why,” I said, “would Gervais want to be friends with me?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because I’m not a friendly person?” I said.


“You’re not?”

“Are you saying you think I am?”

“I wouldn’t say you’re unfriendly.”

“I would,” I said.

“Really.”

I nodded.

“Huh. Interesting.”

The light changed, and we moved forward.

“Interesting,” I said, “meaning what?”

He shrugged, switching lanes. “Just that I don’t see you that way. I mean, you’re reserved, maybe. Guarded, definitely. But not unfriendly.”

“Maybe you just don’t know me,” I said.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But unfriendly is usually one of those things you pick up on right away. You know, like B.O. There’s no hiding it if it’s there.”

I considered this as we approached another light. “So when we met that first night,” I said, “by the fence, you thought I was friendly?”

“I didn’t think you weren’t,” he said.

“I wasn’t very nice to you.”

“You were jumping a fence. I didn’t take it personally.”

“I didn’t even thank you for covering for me.”

“So? ”

“So I should have. Or at least not been such a bitch to you the next day.”

Nate shrugged, putting on his blinker. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though,” I said. “You don’t have to be so nice to everyone, you know.”

“Ah,” he said, “but that’s the thing. I do. I’m compulsively friendly.”

Of course he was. And I’d noticed it first thing that night by the fence, because it, too, was something you couldn’t hide. Maybe I could have tried to explain myself more to Nate, that there was a reason I was this way, but he was already reaching forward, turning on the radio and flipping to WCOM, the local community station he listened to in the mornings. The DJ, some girl named Annabel, was announcing the time and temperature. Then she put on a song, something peppy with a bouncy beat. Nate turned it up, and we let it play all the way to school.

When we got out of the car, we walked together to the green, and then I peeled off to my locker, just like always, while he headed to the academic building. After I’d stuffed in a few books and taken out a couple of others, I shut the door, hoisting my bag back over my shoulder. Across the green, I could see Nate approaching his first-period class. Jake Bristol and two other guys were standing around outside. As he walked up, Jake reached out a hand for a high five, while the other two stepped back, waving him through. I was late myself, with other things to think about. But I stayed there and watched as Nate laughed and stepped through the door, and they all fell in, following along behind him, before I turned and walked away.