Toxic (Better Than You) (15 page)

             
“Fair enough. What do you wanna talk about?”

             
I look out at the water, wiggle my toes in the sand. It’s nice here. I don’t know why I don’t come to the beach more often. “What were your parents like?”

             
Nathan shifts beside me. “They were great. Crazy in love. I used to think it was so embarrassing. None of my friend’s parents used to make out or grope each other in public, ya know? But they weren’t afraid to just be themselves. To be
in love
.”

             
“Sounds nice,” I say honestly, because it really does. It also sounds made up.

             
“What about you?”

             
I turn and look at him. “What about me?”

             
“What were your parents like?”

             
“I don’t want to talk about that.”

             
Nathan sighs, leans back on his elbows. Smiles lazily. “So what
do
you want to talk about?”

             
Everything.
“You.”

             
“Okay. What do you wanna know?”

             
And so I ask all of the burning questions I’ve had since the day I met him. How old is he? What does he like to do for fun? What’s it like to have siblings? Does he take care of them by himself? Is it hard? Does he miss his parents? Does he wish he didn’t have the responsibility of a family? He answers all of them quickly, without hesitation. He’s honest. I like that about him.

             
I save the hardest question for last. “How did they die?”

             
Nathan doesn’t answer for what feels like a long time, just stares out at the water like they’re out there somewhere. I take the opportunity to study his face; the way his upper lip curves up when he’s thinking. How his eyelashes are so long that they brush his eyebrows. The lines at the corners of his eyes that tell a story all on their own. I want to reach out and touch him, feel his skin underneath my fingertips, but I keep still, afraid to break this moment. Finally, he starts to talk.

             
“They were out on a date. My dad used to surprise my mom all the time. She would get home from work, all exhausted and annoyed. She owned a small boutique downtown so you can imagine how stressful it is.” I can’t, but I don’t say so, just wait as he continues his story. “Anyways, I was watching Joshua and he was sick, throwing up everywhere and I was so annoyed because they weren’t home and I had to clean up after him. So I called them and was freaking out. My dad said they were leaving right away, that they would be home soon. I hung up and I waited. An hour passed and they weren’t home yet. The place they went to wasn’t far so I knew something was wrong. When I called his phone again and it went straight to voicemail, it felt like my heart was going to explode. I called my mom, I called Emily who was at a friend’s house. She hadn’t heard from them either. But there was nothing I could do. I had Joshua and I didn’t know where they were. Almost two hours later there’s a knock on the door and I know. I just
know
.” He pauses and clears his throat. “They had gotten into a car accident. It was raining and they lost control of the car, slammed head first into a semi.”

             
There are tears in my eyes. “God, Nathan,” I whisper.

             
“Joshua was nine. Emily was seventeen. I inherited two kids and two businesses at the age of twenty. I…uh…dropped out of school, started working at the bar to help with the bills. When Emily graduated, she got a job, even though I hate that she has to bartend. We have enough money from the life insurance to cover the mortgage and house bills, but there’s still so much else to pay for. Car payments, car insurance, health insurance, food, school supplies. Twelve year olds are expensive, believe it or not.” He looks at me with a small smile. “Sorry to dump all of that on you.”

             
“Please, its fine. I’m glad you did.” I grab his hand and squeeze it.

             
“Maybe you’ll tell me your story one day.”

             
I shrug my shoulders and say, “Maybe,” but I know that I never will. It’s a selfish story, full of ugly things that no child should ever have to witness and truths that no person should ever have to learn.

             
The seriousness is gone from his eyes as he turns and looks at me. “At least tell me why your mom named you Logan.”

             
“I have no idea.” When he narrows his eyes, I add, “I swear. I like to think it was my dad’s name but I really have no clue.” And now I’ve said too much. “Anyways, it was probably just her way of reminding me every day that she wanted a boy but got a girl instead.”

             
“It probably was your dad’s name,” he says decisively. There’s no pity in his voice, no sadness. I’m grateful for it.

             
“Speaking of names, how did Emily know mine?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

             
“She, um, well, I told her about you. I mean, about what happened that night. At the party. We’re really close and she knew I was upset so we talked.”

             
“Great. She probably thinks I’m pathetic.”

             
“She’s not like that. Judgmental, I mean. She may act catty and superficial sometimes but she’s really not like most girls.”

             
I purse my lips at him. “What are most girls like?”

             
“Catty, superficial, annoying,” he says with a laugh.

             
Speaking of girls…
“Do you, um, have a girlfriend?” My voice is all high pitched and girly sounding. It makes me cringe.

             
He shakes his head. “No. I was dating this girl Heather for a while, but then the whole thing with my parents happened and things got really hard… We ended on good terms. She lives somewhere in Tampa, I think. Engaged and stuff.”

             
I pull my finger through the sand, drawing a heart and then crossing it out. “Does that bother you?”

             
“It did. At first. But now,” I can feel his eyes on me, “Not so much.”

             
There’s this funny feeling in my chest, kind of like its expanding and warming at the same time. My damn heart is assuming his words meant something more when my mind is calmly reminding me that he deserves better.

             
“That’s good,” I saw dumbly because I don’t know what else to say.

             
“Anyways, we should probably get back. I gotta take Joshua to school.”

             
“Right. Of course.”

             
Nathan stands and brushes the dirt off his hands before extending them to me. I grab them and he hauls me up, into his chest. The sand slips from underneath me and I nearly lose my balance but Nathan’s arms are around my waist, supporting me. Our faces are so close together that I can smell the fresh fruit he just ate, along with his minty toothpaste. The feel of him is heady, intoxicating, better than any high I’ve ever had. I’m afraid to fuck it up, to lose it, which is why I push away and smile. “Ready?”

             
He clears his throat, pushes the hair out of his face. “Yeah.”

             
The drive home is quiet. When I glance over at Nathan, I see that his forehead is creased, his eyebrows pulled low over his eyes. Whatever he’s thinking about must be really important. I’m curious about what’s running through his mind, but he’s already told me so much about him that I’m afraid he’ll want something in return. That’s how these things work, right?

             
We pull up to the house and he puts the car in park. It’s a lot nicer in the daylight, a lot bigger, too. I’m so out of my element. The seat creaks as Nathan turns to look at me. “You wanna wait in here while I grab Joshua? We’ll just be a minute.”

             
“Uh, sure,” I say, completely unsure. As soon as the car door shuts, I start rethinking my answer. Maybe I should wait in the house. Maybe I shouldn’t even be here.
Why am I here?
What happens when Nathan gets tired of me? Or when my shitty past catches up with me? Because I know it will. I’m not the kind of girl that gets a break. Maybe I can stay with Mom. Or Sam.
Fuck Sam
. She stood there while Danny dragged me out of that party; she always just stood there when she knew there was so much more going on. I’ll just have to get my own place, and soon. I don’t want to be a burden to the only person who’s ever cared enough to help.

             
The back door opens and I jump. I look back to see a miniature Nathan crawling into the back seat. “Who are you?” he asks.

             
“I’m, uh,” I look to Nathan, who’s getting into the driver’s seat, for an answer. Is he asking who I am to Nathan? Or who I am in general? How old is he again?

             
“Don’t listen to him. He knows who you are,” Nathan says as he backs the car out of the driveway.

             
How does he know who I am?

             
“So, Logan” Joshua begins, “How long will you be staying with us?”

             
Nathan chuckles, literally chuckles. I throw a look at him. “Um, not long. Nathan’s helping me find an apartment.”

             
“She’ll stay as long as she needs to,” Nathan says, more to me than to Joshua.

             
“Do you know how to cook?”

             
“Yes?” I clear my throat.
Why is this kid grilling me?
“I mean, yes. I do.”

             
“Do you clean?”

             
Nathan glances in the rearview mirror. “Joshua, that’s enough.”

             
“What? I’m just asking questions,” he squeaks.

             
“I
can
clean. I don’t like it much, though.”

             
Joshua smiles at me. “Me neither. I hate cleaning, but this guy,” he points his finger at Nathan, “refuses to take no for an answer.”

             
“We all do our share, buddy.”

             
Alright, but she chips in
.

             
I shake my head. This is nothing like that night. Nathan isn’t Danny. He doesn’t expect me to please him, bend to his will. He’s helping me because he cares.
Right?

             
“I’ll be here at three,” Nathan yells at Joshua, who closes the door before Nathan’s done speaking and bounds up the stairs to the school. I watch as he talks to his friends, talks to a girl, gives her a shy smile. It’s all so normal, so innocent, that I find myself jealous. Of a twelve year old boy.
I’m pathetic.

             
“I have to run some errands. You wanna tag along?” Nathan’s voice tears my thoughts away from Joshua.

             
“Yeah, that’s fine.”

             
But two hours later, as I’m waiting in the car and Nathan’s in the bank, I realize that it wasn’t a good idea to
tag along
. I’m itching for another hit. I need out of this car.
What’s taking him so long?
The handle clicks underneath my hand and before I know what I’m doing, I’m walking away, down the sidewalk, pacing like a, well, a druggie who needs another hit. Tilting my head to the sky, I take a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly through my mouth. But the rush of midafternoon traffic is messing with my calming breaths. Horns are blaring, tires are squealing. It’s making me jumpy.
Maybe I was better off in the car.

             
I turn on my heel, about ready to run back to the safety of the car, and run straight into Nathan. He catches me easily, as if he was expecting me to run into him. Taking a step back, I straighten my shirt, fidget with the hem. Anything to keep my hands steady.

             
“What are you doing?” he asks. There’s something in his eyes. Something that looks a lot like too much knowledge.

             
“I got bored,” I answer quickly.

             
He nods, his eyes still on me. “Sorry that took so long. I had to deal with some house stuff.”

             
“It’s fine, really. I just, I needed some fresh air.”

             
“Because you were bored.” The way he says it makes it obvious that it’s not a question.

             
“Yeah. I don’t do well sitting still.” His eyes search me. They’re always searching, probing, wondering. It makes me uncomfortable, to say the least. “What’s next?”