Page 73 of Searching for Nova

“Right here.” I pick it up off the floor and hand it to her.

She puts her bra on, but stops before putting on her shirt. “You sure you don’t want to, you know, finish what we started?”

“No. Tonight was about you.”

“Meaning tomorrow is your turn?” she asks as she puts her shirt on.

“No. This isn’t about me.” I grab her jeans and panties from the floor and hand them to her. “Why aren’t you getting that?”

“I just don’t understand it. Why would you do that without expecting something in return?”

“Because I like you. And I like seeing you happy.”

She smiles as she put on her panties, and then her jeans. “I’ll be happy all night after that. I never would’ve thought you’d grow up to be so skilled in that area.”

“Why? What’d you think I’d be like?”

She shrugs. “Smart. Kind of nerdy. I thought you’d still be scrawny and that you’d wear glasses.”

“You thought I’d be a nerd?” I ask, pretending to be offended.

“You were smart as a kid.”

“Not really.”

“You were smarter than me. I was better at sports. But now look at you. You’ve got a college scholarship to play hockey.”

“Do you still play sports?”

“No. I lost interest in them when I got older.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t have anyone to pick me up after practice or after the games. And the stuff you need to be on the team is expensive.”

It makes me sad knowing that’s the reason. My parents bought me whatever I needed for hockey and came to every game. They paid for coaches and camps. They would’ve done anything to support me in whatever sport I wanted to play, even if I wasn’t good at it.

“If you could’ve played sports,” I ask, “what would you have played?”

“Probably softball, or maybe basketball if I was taller.”

“Did you do any other activities? Plays? Music? Cheerleading?”

She laughs. “No. I didn’t have time for that stuff. I was taking care of Ted.”

“That’s just wrong,” I say, shaking my head. “He should be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

Nova sits back against the seat, pulling the blanket over her as she looks out the front window.

“Are you cold?” I ask.

“A little.”

I should take her home, but I’m not ready to. There’s so much I want to know about her and we never seem to have enough time.

“How’s this?” I pull her against my side and wrap my arm around her.

“Better,” she says, smiling at me. She looks back out the window. “Don’t you have to get home?”

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