Page 145 of Jaded

“Can I ask . . .”Caution, Olls. Proceed with caution, lest the walls of Fort Nat slam shut again. . . “What happened between you and Jess?”

I swear I hold my breath, like the flutter of air moving in and out of my lungs might disturb this delicate balance. I want him to open up. I want to be for Nat what he was to me, when he held me in the dark, helped me find the light again.

But I’m also not about to start poking sticks at his cracked walls.

At long last, he lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Nothing dramatic. He just . . . checked out of our relationship a long time ago.”

Let it go, Olls, I tell myself.He’ll come to you when he’s ready. But I’m not really alet it gokinda guy.

“When you were kids?” I guess, my voice quiet with caution.

“Yeah.” He scrapes a hand down his face. “Sounds stupid, right?”

“Not at all.” I’m certain there’s more to it than that, but I know better than to pry. So instead, I state the obvious. “Jesse’s basically a stranger . . . who took your daughter to his house.”

Nat swivels towards me, his brows pulled into a low furrow. “Yeah. I guess . . . I hadn't really thought about it like that.”

“Oh.” Not so obvious, then, apparently. “Then how do you think about it?”

“I dunno.” He leans back into the Zam, studying those hands again. “I'm just . . . angry. Pissed. Guilty ’cause I feel like I’m overreacting.”

“You’re not,” I say, and I watch his face soften in surprise. “I’d be pissed if a stranger who used to be my brother took my kid.”

“Shit.” A huffed half laugh escapes his lips. “How do youdothat? You know shit about me I don’t even know.”

Ain’t that the truth, buddy. “I overthink everything.”

“Apparently I don’t think enough.” He heaves another sigh, straightens up off the Zam. “I’ll be all right. He’ll leave soon enough. Thank you for . . . ”

He waves a finger between us, like he can’t even find the words to describe our little heart-to-heart.

I take the hint—the conversation’s closed. “Right.”

Not right.

Strange nerves beat against the inside of my veins as I leave the Zam behind, like icy drums, like pieces of my new town embedded in my flesh, pricking at my bones.

Everything’s been going so well. So many things have happened to make me believe that maybe I’m not just living a delusional pipe dream.

So why does everything feel so off-kilter? I know his problems with Jesse have nothing to do with me, but anxiety tells very ugly, very convincing lies.

I was supposed to help him and I couldn’t. I pried too much and now he’s realizing I’m annoying and useless and he doesn’t need me and he’s gonna forget me, ghost me . . .

Shoot. I’m spiraling.

But seriously.

It’s never been about whether he’s nearby. It’s about whether I know I have his smile. If I can text him, and he’ll want to talk. Want to see me. Whether he’s thinking of me, even if I’m not around.

Because anxiety will tell me the reverse—that if I’m not in front of him, I don’t exist. Out of sight, out of mind, right? And that is what terrifies me.

Now, Olli’s Anxiety is convinced something’s about to go very, very wrong.

Chapter 36

Nat

Themorningofthetournament dawns grey and ominous.

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