Page 42 of Searching for Nova

“You’rewalkinghome?” he says like I’m crazy.

“It’s only a mile.”

“Whatever,” he mutters as he goes back inside.

Kevin picked me up tonight, but he’s been drinking so I don’t want him driving me home. I don’t mind walking. A mile’s not that far.

As I’m going down the sidewalk, my mind goes to Nova, wondering what she’s doing tonight and if she’s out with that guy she claims is just a friend. Does she really think I’m that stupid? A guy doesn’t have a girl stay the night without something happening. Even I don’t think I could do it, despite my commitment to only be friends with her. If Nova were in my bed, in my arms, and we kissed, I don’t see either of us stopping. That kiss at the park was enough to tell me we both feel something for each other. And the sounds she made, those soft moans coming from her throat, turned me on so fucking bad. I’m sure she could feel what she did to me. She was on my lap, her ass pressing down on my cock. Just thinking about that has me getting hard again.

When I reach my house, I sit on the front steps, not wanting to go inside yet. I get out my phone and look through my texts. I see Nova’s name and read the last text she sent me, the one where she told me she couldn’t see me again. It’s followed by a week’s worth of texts from me, begging her to reconsider.

I stare at her text, trying to think of what I might’ve done to piss her off. I keep thinking this is my fault—that I did something—because if it’s that, I might be able to fix it. If it’s something else, I don’t know what to do.

“One last time,” I say, calling her, praying she’ll pick up.

She doesn’t. I get her voicemail, which is just the generic one that comes with the phone.

I leave yet another message. “Nova, it’s me. If you’re not talking to me because of something I did, give me a chance to fix it. I can be really stupid sometimes, which you already know. I did stupid shit all the time as a kid, like when I tried to dye my hair with green Kool-Aid. I was trying to make you smile after you sprained your ankle, but it didn’t work. The hair thing. I did make you smile.” I smile, remembering that. “Okay, well, I guess this is it. I won’t keep calling. I just wanted to try one last time. Goodbye, Nova.”

The front door opens and Jenna walks out. “What are you doing out here? I thought you were with Jace.”

“I was. I decided to come home early.”

“Who were you talking to?”

“Nobody.” I get up and go past her.

She follows me into the house. “I swear, sometimes I can’t believe we’re related.”

We’re not, but I can’t tell her that. It’s a secret. But sometimes I wish people knew. If they did, maybe I could be myself again, instead of the guy they expect me to be. I’ve played that role for years now and was starting to believe it was really me. But then Nova walked into my life, and now I don’t know who the hell I am anymore.

12

Nova

“I was tryingto make you smile after you sprained your ankle, but it didn’t work. The hair thing. I did make you smile. Okay, well, I guess this is it. I won’t keep calling. I just wanted to try one last time. Goodbye, Nova.”

I’ve listened to Easton’s message at least thirty times since he left it last night. I remember that day he tried to dye his hair. He thought he’d look funny with green hair. He was trying to make me feel better after I fell out of a tree and hurt my ankle. The doctor said I couldn’t run on it for over a month, which made me sad because Easton and I loved chasing each other around the back yard.

When he showed up in my room with green liquid all over his hair, running down his face, I couldn’t stop laughing. He looked sad that it didn’t actually dye his hair, which made me love him even more. He was always doing stuff like that, silly things to make me laugh or smile.

Listening to his message again, I’m tearing up. It’s less about the memory and more about never seeing him again. It’s been almost a week since we went out for dinner, and as much as I’ve tried to forget about him, I’ve thought about him nonstop. I blame the kiss. I’ve never had a kiss like that, one that had me wanting more, my body begging for him to keep going. I wasn’t supposed to feel that way with Easton, but the fact that I did left me confused, questioning my feelings for him. I’ve tried to convince myself that’s the reason I can’t stop thinking about him. But I’m not sure that’s it.

Putting my phone in my pocket, I walk over to the mirror to check my face. My eyes are red, but the tears are gone. Every time I listen to that damn message, I tear up. Knowing that, I shouldn’t have been listening to it at work, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Every time I go to delete Easton’s message, I end up listening to it again.

“You leaving?” Kym says, coming in the break room.

“Yeah.” I turn away from the mirror and go to my locker. “Lenny sent me home since we’re slow.”

Kym walks up to me, smiling. “So who was that guy who was here?”

“What guy?”

“The one who was looking for you.”

My heart races, thinking Easton came by again. He’s been to the diner a few times this week, but I hid in the back, refusing to talk to him. He’s also been calling me and texting me all week, but I’ve ignored him. His message last night was probably the last one I’ll get. He’s not going to keep trying to see me when I’ve made it clear we can’t be friends. As much as it hurts knowing I won’t see him again, it’s for the best, or that’s what I’m telling myself every time I feel the urge to call him.

“Easton,” I say to Kym. “Is that who you’re talking about?”

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