Page 26 of The Art of Scandal

It had been a while since Nathan accepted Dillon’s offer to get high, and it had been even longer since Bobbi joined them. Earlier that day, Joe had dropped off an invitation to their parents’ anniversary party. The envelope sat on Nathan’s coffee table, currently being used as a coaster. Bobbi grabbed the card and pinned it to his refrigerator with a magnet. “Forty years is a big deal,” she said. “Try to be happy for them.”

Bobbi viewed his parents the way everyone else did—as the Mexican Obamas, an untouchable power couple who still engaged in socially acceptable public displays of affection. But Nathan had seen the ugly side of his parents’ marriage more often than anyone realized. At sixteen, he’d overheard them arguing about a pregnant woman who had shown up at Beto’s office. Nathan didn’t stick around long enough to know whether his father had denied the baby was his. Secrets that big were parasitic. Life was easier when you kept it small: girls, parties, rinse, repeat. His parents taught him that he wasn’t built for marriage, or mortgages, or any other notarized lifelong commitment; not when he’d spent his whole life feeling like an obligation. He’d rather spend the rest of it being chosen.

Dillon slipped a vape between his lips and inhaled. He held his breath, speaking in tight bursts. “What aboutForged in Flames?”

They’d been debating movies for over an hour. Nathan had thought he was being clever by limiting their options to thePhoenix Propheciesseries, but he’d underestimated how deep their divisions on the subject ran. Bobbi shook her head and motioned for Dillon to pass the vape. “Not an option.”

Nathan sighed. “Dude, you know she hates that movie.”

“There’s nothing wrong withForged,” Dillon said. “You’re both biased becauseshe’snot in it.” He pointed to the new tattoo of Neptune on Bobbi’s shoulder.

Bobbi twisted her arm to admire the fresh ink. It looked good. Better than Nathan had expected. She propped her feet on the coffee table. “You’re just jealous because no one wants to draw you anything.”

“Nathan would draw me something,” Dillon said, nudging her sneakers away from his beer. “Right, Nate?”

Nathan smiled. “Sure, man. I’ll draw whatever you want. Name it.”

“No way.” Bobbi sat up quickly. “Don’t you dare waste your talent on mermaids with giant tits.”

“Oh my god,” Dillon groaned. “That wasoneanime, Bobbi.Nineyears ago. I thought the main character was cute.”

Bobbi smirked. “And you’ve been dating her ever since.”

Nathan took the pen from Bobbi’s outstretched hand while Dillon defended his tendency to swipe right on photos of girls with beach waves on paddleboards. He inhaled just as his phone vibrated. Rachel’s message made him choke.

Rachel:I’m checking my swimsuit bottoms for ticks.

Since his bib joke, they’d been texting nonstop for three days. But after an early morning confession about how she regretted throwing away her old journals (I was terrified some reporter would find them), she’d gone quiet for several hours. Nathan had nearly called her. Then he remembered that he’d only known this woman for two weeks. You couldn’t let your insecurities drip over relationships like a leaky faucet. You had to keep boundaries with people, otherwise they’d try to fix you.

Nathan:I hope that’s some kinky metaphor.

Rachel:No. They’re actual ticks. I signed up for a charity float trip that I thought would be in canoes. It was inner tubes on the river. You can picture the rest.

Nathan:I’m trying. Bikini or one piece?

Rachel:Trikini. A handkerchief and saucers. It was freezing but I needed the ego boost.

Nathan:Come find me if you ever need another one.

Rachel:Next time I go on vacation, you’re coming with me. Do you like the beach?

He thought about the last-minute trip he took to Miami two years ago with Dillon for spring break. All he remembered was puking up sugary mojitos and realizing he was too old for spring break.

Nathan:Sometimes. I liked visiting my grandmother’s family in Oaxaca. We’d visit Bahía Tangolunda and swim for hours.

He hadn’t thought about those trips in a long time. His family would go every year before Abuelita passed. His cousins would call him flaco and make fun of his terrible Spanish. Then they’d take him to clubs and tell everyone he was an American reality TV star so people would buy them drinks. Before the trip was over, they’d have him acting like a local. It gave him a glimpse of what it might be like to have a normal family, with brothers and sisters his own age.

Rachel:I just looked it up, and it’s beautiful. Your family lives there?

Nathan:Great-uncles and cousins. I haven’t seen them in a while.

As soon as he typed it, he knew she’d ask him why. So he quickly typed another message.

Nathan:You want to go? I’ll book some tickets.

Rachel:Ha ha.

“Nettles!” Bobbi snapped her fingers in his face. “Who are you talking to?”

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