Page 19 of Fun at Parties
Chapter 6
The next morning, I waketo a tentative but persistent knocking at my bedroom door.
“Quinn?” Nate calls softly.
I roll onto my side, away from the door. My sleep was fitful last night. Nate and Logan stayed out late on the deck, the low hum of their voices audible through my window for hours.
“Quinn,” Nate calls again.
I press my forehead against the cool wood of the headboard and groan. “Coming.” It feels a little early for clearing the air or whatever he wants to do right now, but I’m not going to hide in my room anymore.
A few minutes in the bathroom leave me washed, brushed, and moisturized. I change out of my rumpled pajamas into a pastel tie-dye workout set from one of my favorite brands, All & Every, and throw a sheer cotton tee over the sports bra. Nate’s wringing his hands in the kitchen when I make my entrance. He seems preoccupied, but he briefly scans the full length of my body, his eyes lingering on the strip of stomach visible through my shirt.
This is how he looked at you before, and he still didn’t want to date you,I remind myself.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Logan’s gone,” he says. “I have no idea where he went.”
I glance out the window. “He didn’t take the car.”
Nate shakes his head. “There’s no way he went for a walk. He always sleeps in. I tried calling him but then remembered he mailed his phone home. I’m getting worried.”
“Are you sure he went to bed last night? Could he have somehow gotten a ride and gone out?”
He presses the heels of his hands to his temples. “Maybe.” There’s more worry in his voice than makes sense, given that we both know this scenario likely ends with Logan strolling in the door twenty minutes from now with a fresh tattoo of a sunny-side-up egg on his forearm, acquired with a quirky girl he fell in love with at a bar last night.
“What am I missing?” I ask.
He crosses to a window with a view of the driveway. “We argued last night. I was trying to talk to him about something serious, and he kept changing the subject. I said a few things I shouldn’t have.”
From the set of his mouth I don’t think Nate is planning on spilling the full story. “Can you tell me, like, two words you used during this argument?”
“Lazy.” He rubs his throat, remorse weighing down his expression. “Child.”
I bite the inside of my lip. “Okay, let me get my phone so I can see what’s in walking distance. Where did he leave his stuff? Why don’t you check whether he tookanything that might give us a clue, maybe see which shoes he wore?”
Nate nods, and we split up. When I unplug my phone, I’m planning to head straight for Google Maps, but I have a missed call from Bailey and a text from Giana in the group chat. The preview includes the wordLOGANin all caps, so I open it.YOU AND LOGAN IN LOVE AT WHOLE FOODS HAHAHAHA, it shouts.
My brain is swimming in confusion, but there’s a link below the message, which takes me to a video. “Have you ever had two of your niche interests cross over in a way that completely blows your mind?” says a young woman sitting in her car. “I’m a die-hardBeach Housefan, I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m also a die-hard CycleLove rider. So earlier today, this photo was posted on aBeach Housefan account, and I swear my soul left my body.”
It’s a grainy picture of us in the Whole Foods parking lot yesterday. Those girls in the tennis skorts—they caught us with Logan kissing the side of my head, Nate trailing behind and barely in the frame. The woman goes on to explain who we are, kindly including a bunch of mostly incorrect details of my breakup with Caleb. “I’d love to know how these two people met, because I cannot imagine it.”
Everything falls into place when I read the comments.Nooooooooois a big one.I understand a rebound but not HIM, somebody says. Below that, someone else:Honestly he’s the worst but he gives off sexual golden retriever vibes, so I completely get him as a rebound. As long as it’s ONLY a rebound.The top comment isWe must protect her from him!!
I groan when I see the questionWhy does it not surprise me that you’re obsessed with one of those fitness cults?I’ve heard the sentiment before, but it’s total bullshit. I know all too well what a cult is. It ruins people’s lives. CycleLove isn’t that; it makes people’s livesbetter.
Then there’s this, with a ton of upvotes:Bestie I thought we were doing single girl september :(
AndThese are also two of my niche interests but I never imagined they’d collide in the worst way possible. I hope she’s on birth control
They’re mostly supportive of me, in a weird and intrusive way, but they’re completely dragging Logan. If he saw these comments, he’d be upset.
“Nate!” He’s not in the living room, so I fly up the stairs and down the hall, unsure where he could’ve gone.Oh,the video game room,that’swhere Logan left his luggage—which I realize too late, when Nate emerges from it as I’m jogging by, and we collide.
Oof. Direct face-to-chest contact. For the briefest moment my nose is buried in his soft, faded T-shirt, and the faintest hint of body wash or deodorant—something with a scent, but not too assertive—rises off the warmth of his skin underneath. My brain registersmuscleandbreathingandhands.Wait, hands? His left one is grasping my shoulder and his right one has landed on my waist, the exact spot he stared at a few minutes ago, the flimsiest layer of cotton between his fingertips and my skin.
I take a big electric-slide-style step backward. His hand, the one that was just holding my waist, twitches at his side.
