Next-Door Nemesis(25)

His deep chuckle, both bone-achingly familiar and deeply foreign, washes over me.

“I honestly don’t even know if they argue.” I mean, I’m sure they do; all couples argue. But I’ve never witnessed it. “When I walked into the kitchen this morning, they were holding hands while they drank their coffee. It’s sick.”

“It’s nice,” he corrects with a bite in his voice that wasn’t there seconds ago. “You’re lucky.”

I am lucky.

Kimberly and Anderson Carter are my touchstone. When it felt as though the world was crumbling around me, I still knew I’d be okay. There’s a safety that comes from knowing, no matter what is happening, you have a support system who will love you through everything. It gives you the confidence to conquer the world and the grace to regroup when you don’t.

Even if you have to go to Ohio to do it.

“I know,” I say simply.

I can tell Nate was expecting me to say more, but my family is the one thing I don’t feel the need to argue about or prove.

“I’m back!” My mom bursts through the front door with the subtlety of a rhinoceros. She’s holding a tray with two glasses of lemonade and a plate of snacks, but it doesn’t distract from her blond hair, which has been brushed, or the fresh pink lip gloss that wasn’t there before.

She’s so extra. I love her so much.

“Ooooh!” I forget about any and all tension and awkwardness lingering between Nate and me when I set my eyes on the cheese plate my mom threw together. “I didn’t know we had all of these cheeses. And cashews!”

I scoot over to make room as my mom sets the tray between Nate and me. I’m giddy. If I could have charcuterie for dinner every single night, I would.

“Glad to see at least this hasn’t changed, huh, Mouse?” Nate says.

It’s a throwaway comment. One I’m not sure he even realizes he’s said until my gaze shifts from the tasty tray to his face. For as much as I’ve enjoyed harping on Nate’s worst qualities and the demise of our friendship, it only takes a moment—a single syllable—for my defenses to crumble to the ground. My chest aches with a yearning so deep, I didn’t know it was possible.

All because of that stupid nickname I didn’t realize I missed.

It’s been twelve years since our friendship fell to pieces and I’m still not sure how it happened. It started like all other summers. I went over to his house and talked his ear off while he packed up for a month at his grandparents’ farm. He’d be back in the middle of July and I had big plans for making my mom drive us to Cincinnati for the weekend to go to Kings Island and a Reds baseball game. I hated baseball, but he loved it, and even as a teenager I knew anything could be made bearable with giant hot dogs and cinnamon-sugar-covered soft pretzels. He seemed really excited too. He loved getting away from his dad and spending time with my family. A trip to Cinci and a couple of nights in a hotel? I didn’t have to twist his arm to get him to agree.

Not surprisingly, his grandparents’ farm wasn’t the most technologically advanced place to be and it was in the middle of nowhere. So when he wasn’t responding to texts or answering my calls, I assumed it was an issue of service. I never thought he was avoiding me. But then the day he was supposed to come home came and went and I never heard from him. When I went to his dad’s to look for him, Mr. Adams always had an excuse. Ruby ended up going with me to Cincinnati. We had a blast, but there was a cloud looming over the entire trip. I was worried about him, and at the same time, I was frantically trying to recall what I could’ve said to make him so mad at me.

When the first day of school came, we still hadn’t talked. And when I saw him huddled up with all the popular kids he claimed to hate so much, holding hands with the girl who’d made my life hell, everything became crystal clear. I’d been ditched. He found a new group of friends who were more popular and had more money.

He didn’t need me anymore, and I didn’t need him.

“Oh, Mouse. I forgot all about that.” Mom looks at me with a wistful smile, her eyes shiny beneath the bright afternoon sun. “What did you call Nathanial?”

This feels like a trap.

Part of me wants to lie, pretend I don’t remember. But the other part of me can’t deny that, even if it had a bad ending, once upon a time, Nate and I meant a lot to each other.

I look to my mom and drop my voice to a whisper. “Bear.”

I avoid looking at Nate, but I can feel the heat of his gaze burning a hole through the side of my face.

“Oh, that’s right! Mouse and Bear, together again. How wonderful.” She clasps her hands together and looks at Nate and me like we’re the most precious beings on planet Earth. “You two catch up and enjoy. And don’t be a stranger, Nathanial. I expect to see you much more often now.”

“Of course, Mrs. Carter. It was nice to see you.” Nate stands up and hugs my mom once more.

It’s cute.

I hate it.

My mom finally turns to leave, but my appetite has already been ruined. Stupid Nate and his stupid nickname. How dare he taint this perfect spread?

I grab a cashew anyway, popping it into my mouth and chewing it, just not with the joy it usually brings.

“So . . .” The word lingers. I try to think of anything to say that won’t make me remember how much I hate him. Or worse . . . how much I don’t. “Do you like cheese yet?”