Page 13 of Searching for Nova

I shrug. “I guess you could call him that. I just call him Ted.”

“You guys get along?”

“Not really, but we don’t really spend time with each other. I’m always at school or work or hanging out a friend’s place. Like tonight, Ted has a date, so I’ll be crashing on someone’s couch.”

“He’s kicking you out?” Easton asks, that concerned tone back again.

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t mind staying somewhere else.”

We both get quiet as he continues to my apartment. I have so much I want to ask him, but there isn’t enough time. And I’m not sure I want the answers.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, breaking the silence.

“Paris wants to go out,” he says.

“Is that your girlfriend?”

“Yeah. You met her last night. Red-hair, dressed like a fairy?”

“Yeah. I remember.” I remember she was a bitch to me. But she was also gorgeous, which is probably why he’s dating her. Hot guys date gorgeous girls, even if they’re bitches.

“What about you? You doing anything?”

“I’ll probably go to Mateo’s house.”

Easton glances at me. “Your boyfriend?”

“Um, not really. We kinda just hang out.”

He nods, but I notice his jaw clenching. He clears his throat. “It’s that building right there?”

I look up and see the tall, brown apartment building. “Yeah, that’s it. You can just drop me off by the door.”

“You’re not going to invite me in?” he says in a kidding tone.

“Believe me, I’m doing you a favor. You don’t want to meet Ted.”

Easton pulls up by the door and stops. “But he treats you okay, right? I mean, I know he’s your grandpa, but that doesn’t mean that—”

“Yeah, Ted’s okay. He’s just a grumpy old man.”

He’s actually an asshole who treats me like shit, but Easton doesn’t need to know that. I’m not his problem. We’re not even friends, not anymore.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say, getting out.

“Wait! When can I see you again?”

I look away, then back at him. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea. We have different lives now and a lot has changed so…” I don’t know how to finish that thought. There’s a part of me that desperately wants to see him again, but the other part of me thinks it’s a bad idea. He broke my heart once. I don’t want him doing it again.

“I want to see you again.” His voice is desperate, almost begging. “Could we just go somewhere and talk sometime? I could pick you up at work. We could go for dinner, or coffee. Whatever you want.”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Can I get your number?” he asks, taking his phone out.

I hesitate, still not sure this is a good idea, but then give him my number.

“Okay, well, see ya around,” I shut the door and walk to my apartment building. As I’m going inside, I look back and see Easton watching me before finally driving away.

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