A Midsummer's Nightmare(41)

“She’s very drunk,” Harrison said. “She had a lot of vodka.”

Nathan sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Harrison. You know, she’s lucky to have you. Anyone would be.”

Why were they talking about me like I wasn’t there?

Harrison grinned. “You can have me anytime,” he said.

The way Nathan laughed made it clear that he thought Harrison was joking. But of course I knew he wasn’t. Poor Harrison would never have a chance with Nathan. But still, I was grateful to him for keeping it light tonight.

“See you later,” Nathan said, hauling me down the front steps toward his Honda.

“Bye!” Harrison called after us. “Be careful. Good night, Whitley. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” I tried to yell, but it came out more like a croak as my knees began to shake beneath my weight.

“Careful,” Nathan said, holding me up as he opened the passenger’s side door. He helped me inside and made sure I got my seat belt buckled before shutting the door. He smelled fresh as he leaned across me, a little spicy, and his messy hair tickled my neck. I held my breath until I was buckled in. A second later, he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice so low that I barely heard it over the sound of the purring engine.

“Fine.”

I saw his mouth open, like he might say something, but he shut it again, very slowly. The car began moving, turning around in the gravel driveway and rolling down the long, winding path to the highway with a slightly rocky bounce. Nathan stared out the windshield, his eyes never darting in my direction. He didn’t know what to say, either, I guess.

I rolled my head to the other side and stared out the window. We were away from the trees now, and fireworks were shattering the darkness all around us. They’d probably be going all night, scattering temporary multicolored stars across the sky. Pinks. Blues. Greens. Reds. I was surprised they didn’t give me a headache. I actually found them kind of peaceful in a weird way.

“Don’t take me back,” I whispered, the words leaving my mouth before I even realized I was going to say them.

“What?”

“Don’t take me to the house.” My eyes stayed focused on the fireworks. Bottle rockets flew up out of someone’s backyard. “Can we go somewhere else?”

“Um… sure. Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

After a moment, Nathan just said, “Okay.”


“Where are we?” I asked as Nathan pulled the Honda into an unfamiliar parking lot. The building in front of us looked old and shabby. shay’s diner was written on a lopsided sign above a cracked glass door. The windows glowed with a painful fluorescent light that made my head pound.

“It’s the only place I could find open this late,” Nathan said.

He unfastened his seat belt and climbed out of the car. With a sigh, I did the same.

“You said anywhere,” he reminded me as he took hold of my elbow and helped me walk inside.

“Guess I did,” I mumbled.

The place had those annoying bells that jingled every time someone walked in or out the door, and the waitress behind the counter called, “Hey, y’all!” the second she heard them. Like it was an automatic response. What a sad job to have. Greeting insomniacs at three in the morning with a stupid fake Southern accent. Not to mention the humiliation of wearing that horrific apron. I kind of felt bad for this chick.

“Good morning,” Nathan said, all friendly and cheerful. What a dork. “Can I get a coffee, please? Black. And a couple pieces of toast.”

“No problem, sweetheart.” She probably loved boys like Nathan. So polite and courteous. Of course, at this time of night, any guy who didn’t smack her ass must have seemed like a godsend.

He walked me to a booth with a sticky table and slid into the seat across from me. A second later, the waitress appeared and placed a mug and a plate of toast in front of Nathan. She was in her mid-forties, with reddish-brown hair and a round face. She looked so warm and sunny. Not the kind of woman you’d expect to meet at a dirty diner in the wee hours of the night.

“There you are, baby,” she said to Nathan. “You just holler if you need anything else.”

Okay. So, maybe her accent wasn’t fake. She sounded Texan, or maybe Alabamian. I could never tell the difference.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anything for you, honey?” she asked me.

I shook my head and curled into a ball where I sat, my feet in the booth, knees to my chest. I could still feel Theo’s hands on my hips, his breath on my face. Like a ghost. Gone, but not gone.

“All right. Just let me know.” She walked back to the counter, her hips swaying to the beat of the country song that played from the ancient-looking jukebox in the corner.

I glanced around. Other than the waitress, Nathan and I were the only people in the diner.

“I guess Hamilton doesn’t have many night owls.”

“It must not,” he agreed. “Here. Drink and eat this.” He shoved the toast and mug toward me.

“Ew,” I said, shoving the coffee back across the table. “No. I hate coffee.” I didn’t mind toast, though, so I picked up a piece and took a bite.