“So you think I’m being crazy?”
“I think you’re being crazy.”
“Thanks, chica.” I sigh. “Should I should say something to Nico?”
“I don’t know, babe. It might start a fight, but if you need to do it for your peace of mind, then yeah, you should. But don’t frame it like an accusation,” she advises. “Maybe treat it more as a joke? Like, omigosh hon, can you believe that?”
“That’s a good approach.”
We hang up a few minutes later, and I’m left sitting on my bed with a snack plate in my lap.
I stare down at the mountain of cheese and crackers, but I don’t have much of an appetite anymore.
NICO: Good morning, bb. Meet for breakfast?
I stare at my boyfriend’s message for a good five minutes before assembling enough courage to respond.
ME: Sure. But I just woke up, so I need time to get ready. Pick me up in 45?
HIM: Sounds good :) I’ll msg u when I get 2 campus.
I’m nervous as I get ready. I decided I’m definitely going to confront him about what Hunter told me. I have no choice, because if I don’t, it’ll eat away at me like a slow-moving cancer, until I won’t even be able to look at him without wondering if he cheated.
Hunter has to be wrong, though. Like Pippa said, he’s either straight-up lying or he misinterpreted the situation. I’m hoping for the latter, because I enjoy our friendship and I don’t like the idea that he’s secretly been running a long con to get me into bed. That would be really shitty.
Nico texts when he’s outside. I step onto the porch and am greeted by his handsome face and beautiful dimpled smile. I find myself relaxing. I adore that smile, and I adore that face. He’s…well, he’s my first love. I’m always going to see him and have this giddy, schoolgirl reaction. And just because I’ve had some doubts about our relationship, some suspicions along the way, doesn’t mean we’re not a good couple.
“Hey mami.” He pulls me toward him for a hug, followed by a deep, tongue-tangling kiss.
I want to say it’s a lot of passion this early in the morning, but Nico is always this passionate. It’s the Cuban in him. He’s all about bold claims and romantic gestures.
“You look good enough to eat.” He smacks his lips together comically and I laugh.
“So do you. But I think I want some real food first.”
“You always want real food.”
“True.”
He snickers. “How was Boston last night?” he asks as we step off the porch.
“Good. My parents were bummed you weren’t there.”
“Me too. But I had to work.” He takes my hand. “Hopefully we can get up to see them before Thanksgiving.”
“I doubt it. I’ve got midterms, and in the beginning of November the sorority is planning that fundraiser for the animal shelter.”
His fingers loosely clasp mine as we walk towards the curb.
“Nice, you have your work truck,” I say. It’s one of the white pick-ups from the moving company, with their black and red logo stenciled onto the side.
“I know it’s only a ten-minute walk, but do you mind if we drive to Carver? I only have an hour.”
“You first class isn’t until two,” I remind him.
“I know, but I need to go to work for a few hours. I told Frank I’d do a small job before class.” He opens the passenger side door for me, then hurries around to get into the driver’s seat.
“You asked Frank about next Friday, right?”
Nico starts the engine. “Next Friday, like two weeks from now?”
“Yeah, it’s Corinne’s housewarming. You were supposed to tell Frank you couldn’t work that night.”
“Oh, right.” Nico nods, and a hunk of black hair falls on his forehead. I reach over to brush it away. “Sorry, I forgot because it’s so far away. But yes, I did talk to him. He promised I’d be outta there by seven.”
“Good.” I buckle my seatbelt. “Isn’t her new place so cute?”
“Honestly? I don’t remember what it looks like,” he says with a grin. “I’ve moved boxes into so many houses and apartments that they all blend together in my mind. Oh hey, I got you something.”
That piques my interest. “You did?”
“D and I were grabbing burgers in the city the other day, and the place had one of those gumball machines, except instead of gumballs it gave out little toys and trinkets. Cost me a buck, but”—Nico grins broadly—“I knew I had to get this for you.”
He pops open the small compartment in the center console and sticks a hand inside. Things rustle and keys jingle as he rummages around.
Finally, his hand emerges with a plastic yellow egg. “Here you go.”
Highly curious, I pry open the two plastic pieces, and a small baggie falls into my lap. I break out in a grin. The bag contains a pair of cheap, plastic earrings—enormous red hoops with black polka dots.