Jack: He doesn’t.
Nate: Damn.
Nate: I’d be going mad too.
Jack: That’s not advice.
Nate: It’s not.
Nate: But I don’t have one.
Nate: Because I’m dumb and I’m already struggling to get my shit in order.
Jack: What do you mean? You’re seeing someone?
Nate: No.
Nate: I wish.
Nate: It’s a mess, really.
Jack: Do you want to talk about it?
Nate: Maybe later.
Nate: But not over text.
Nate: I’ll need a beer.
Jack: Let’s do something tonight.
Jack: Just you and I, like old times.
Jack: Nuri and Prue will be glad to be left alone for a night.
Nate: Sure. You can come over to my place.
Nate: It’s accessible to wheelchairs.
Jack: No way, I’ll walk. It’ll be fine.
Nate: You sure?
Jack: Yeah.
Nate: Okay then.
Nate: I hear noises upstairs. Prue might still be alive after all.
Jack: Alright. See you later at the restaurant. I’ll text you the address.
NATE
I smile to myself when I hear her soft voice cursing upstairs. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of her drunk state to talk. I did stop myself from kissing her, though, and I’m giving myself bonus points for that alone.
But she started talking. All her thoughts were just exposed. And I felt bad, but I couldn’t stop myself from drinking every one of them. And now, I know. I know that, subconsciously, being near me makes her feel the same thing I feel when I’m near her. Just intoxicated by her scent, her voice, her gaze.
I hoped she wouldn’t remember what we both said, but I’ve changed my mind. I want her to remember. Especially whatIsaid. To know how I feel, how I’ve always felt, about her. I’ll talk to Jack. Sunday, I’ll tell him. I have to. I want to move on with her, but I don’t want to go behind his back. He has to know that I’m serious, that I’ve wanted this since that first time I met her, in that cozy coffee place on campus where he introduced us.
