Page 96 of Searching for Nova

“Will you ever tell me what happened after I left?”

She shakes her head.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

She turns to me. “I need you to let this go. I don’t want to talk about it, and if you’re going to keep asking, I can’t keep seeing you.”

“Okay.” I brush the hair off her forehead. “Is there anything I can do to make the nightmares stop?”

“Probably not. They’ll end eventually. They did before.”

“How long did they last before?”

“A few years.” She turns on her side again. “Goodnight, Sean.”

She called me Sean. She keeps doing that and then corrects herself. I feel strange when she says it, but I also kind of like it. It reminds me of being with Nova, back when I used to be Sean. Looking back, that kid seems like someone else. I have his memories, but it doesn’t seem like me. I’m someone totally different now, but I’m starting to wonder if I was happier when I was Sean.

* * *

In the morning,I wake up to my phone alarm going off. I set it last night to make sure I’d get up. My parents are always up early and I don’t want them calling Jace to see when I’ll be home. They wouldn’t call him this early, but they might after eight.

“Nova.” I gently shake her.

She rolls over to face me. “What time is it?”

“Seven. I need to go.” I kiss her cheek. “Thanks for the sleepover.”

“Thanks for the snacks. And the TV. But I’m not keeping it. You’re taking it back.”

“It’s staying here. We need something to do when I come over.”

“I could think of something we could do,” she says, running her hand down my chest.

“You’re agreeing to date me?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll be watching TV.” I get out of her bed, my cock standing at attention. It’s been up most of the night, pressed against her ass as I spooned her. It’s really pissed at me right now, but I wasn’t going to go against what I said. Nova and I need to remain friends, and only friends, until she agrees to at least admit we’re dating.

I’m back at my house just before eight. I hear my parents talking in the kitchen and quietly sneak up the stairs.

“Easton?” my mom yells. “Is that you?”

Sometimes I think they have superhuman hearing. The stairs aren’t anywhere near the kitchen and they still heard me.

“Yeah, Mom, what do you need?” I yell back.

“We want to talk to you.” Her slippers sound on the wood floor as she comes down the hall. She stops at the stairs, wearing her pink robe and glasses. She always waits until later to put her contacts in on the weekends. She looks me up and down. “Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. I told you I was staying at Jace’s last night.”

“Yes. You did.” She gives me a tight smile, the kind that tells me she’s angry about something. “Come to the kitchen. Your father and I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Easton,” she says, in a harsh tone. “In the kitchen. Now.”

I blow out a breath as I go down the stairs. I drop my backpack on the floor and follow her into the kitchen. It’s bigger than Nova’s kitchen and living room combined. I sit at the circular table by the window where we have breakfast. Dinners are always in the dining room.

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