He chuckles, interrupting me. “Uncomfortable. Yeah, I guess that’s one way to say it.”
I frown, confused, and anything I could have said is cut off by him ripping the drawing delicately out of the notepad.
“Can I keep that?”
“Uh… I guess? If you want to.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
Oh my god, where have my brain cells gone?
“Right. Sure, you can keep it.”
He folds it and slides it in his back pocket, our eyes meeting again.
“See you around, Prudence.”
And with that he’s gone. And I’m standing in front of the closed door—the damn mirror—wondering what weird universe I have set foot in.
14
TINY, CUTE, AND A LITTLE FUSSY
Nate: Jack told me you still didn’t get your car back.
Nate: I’ll pick you up when you’re done at the precinct.
Prudence: You don’t have to drive meeverywhere, I can take an Uber. It’s not raining anymore, there shouldn’t be any problem.
Nate: 5:30 p.m, right? I’ll wait for you down the steps.
Prudence: How the hell do you know what time I’m supposed to be off?
Nate: You are friends with my little spies.
Nate: By the way, I know you don’t like surprises, but I’m supposed to bring you to the bar to celebrate your first month.
Nate: Act surprised.
Prudence: I was actually hoping for some time with Jack.
Nate: He’ll be there.
Nate: 5:30. No Uber. I’ll wait outside.
PRUDENCE
I’m doodling angrily on my notepad. Something that looks strangely like Nate but with a mustache and devil’s horns.
He’s obviously doing all this to poke Jack. Even if it’s just picking me up and driving me somewhere for a whole month, the old Jack would have gone feral to the idea of Nate and I alone together for more than five minutes. I know he’s trying to get a reaction out of him. But he won’t. Because Jack has changed. He no longer cares who I date, and doesn’t freak out like he used to.
Nate is wasting his time.
And annoying me in the process.
For a whole month, he’s been playing with my sanity, driving me and picking me up to and from the precinct, standing really close to me every time we were in the same room—overwhelming me with his heavenly damned scent—sending little jabs at Jack who played it off as jokes but whose smiles were forced nonetheless.
We’ve been seeing each other everyday. At least twice, if not more when I count the moments he came to the house to take care of Jack.
