Part 15 (1/2)
He picked up a folded s.h.i.+rt from the top of the stack and shook it out. ”It's part of me. Would you go to school without your hand?”
”I don't think that's a useful comparison.”
He laughed as he dragged the blade across the silk screen. ”So, this thing with you and Jack.”
”Yeah?”
He lifted the screen and examined the print before he looked up. When he did, he had a small smile on his face. ”Is it love?”
The question threw me. It didn't seem like a friend asking a friend. It felt more like Cole was defining boundaries. But maybe that was just my imagination.
I took a deep breath. ”Um...” I twisted toward the counter where the T-s.h.i.+rts had been stacked, but they were all gone. I looked at the floor. My fingernails. The paint. Everywhere but his face. Why was I fumbling all of a sudden? ”Um... Where'd that come from?” I finally lifted my gaze to meet his. Could I possibly have been any more fl.u.s.tered?
He raised an eyebrow and reached toward me. I flinched back before I realized he was reaching behind me, to where a second pile of s.h.i.+rts was stacked. At my reaction, he held his hands up in an innocent gesture, then pointed to the s.h.i.+rts. ”The s.h.i.+rts, Nik. I'm getting a s.h.i.+rt.”
”Right.” I shook my head and made a noise that sounded like a nervous giggle. ”So, um, why do you ask about ... me and Jack?” I couldn't bring myself to say the L-word.
He flattened the new s.h.i.+rt and then bladed another screen. ”I don't know. It's just that the more time I spend with you, I don't know. I don't see it. You and him.”
”You don't know him.”
He shook his head and drew in a breath. ”You know what? It's none of my business. You coming to the concert tomorrow night?”
”Where?”
”The Spur. It's already sold out.”
”Well, then, no. I didn't buy a ticket.”
He sighed. ”Nik, you never need to buy a ticket. You could watch it from backstage if you want.”
”Really?”
”Sure. It's no big deal.”
”It is to me. My friends will be so jealous.”
”You're only saying that to make me feel good.”
”Shut up. You know how much people love you around here.” I shook my head as I ran the paddle along my silk screen.
”Do you like me around here?”
I startled, and my hands fumbled with the paddle as my cheeks went pink. I didn't realize there was a fold on the s.h.i.+rt. ”Oh c.r.a.p. Sorry, I messed this one up.”
I held it up. It looked like Elvis's face had been cut in half and then put back together by Pica.s.so. I was about to toss it, but Cole grabbed it from me.
”No way. This one is going to be famous someday. Like that upside-down airplane stamp.”
I laughed, relieved the awkward moment had pa.s.sed. He grabbed a Sharpie off one of the counters and quickly autographed the s.h.i.+rt. He was beaming at it like it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen.
”Cole, in case I haven't mentioned it, I appreciate you letting me tag along lately,” I said.
He waved me away in response.
”No, really. Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you. I mean, it's sorta been a difficult week for me-”
”With Jack gone?”
”No. Well, yes, that too, but ... the man who was driving the car that killed my mom, he's on trial. And I'm trying not to watch, but it's everywhere. And everyone who knows me seems to think I want to talk about it, when really all I want to do is ignore it.” I didn't know why I was telling Cole all of this. I hadn't even told Jules. ”So ... thanks for the distraction.”
Cole brought the s.h.i.+rt over and put it in my hands. ”I like having you around,” he said. ”It's too bad football camp will be over so soon.”
At the mention of football camp, I thought back to his short reply about Meredith, and for some reason I wondered if he was holding back. ”That phone call from Meredith...”
He looked away. ”What about it?”
There it was. Evasiveness. I could see it.
”Did she say anything about Jack?”
He didn't look at me. ”Not that I can remember. Hey, the band is going to run the river this afternoon. You up for more distraction?”
I thought about pressing him, but why would he purposely hold something back? He'd probably think I was being paranoid, so I dropped it. ”Are you sure they won't mind if I come?”
”No. Who doesn't want a fifth wheel? Although it would be better if you weighed a little bit more.”
I grinned. ”I'll eat a few cheeseburgers on the drive.”
When I got to the upper banks of the Weber River, Cole and his bandmates were hoisting the raft off a large white van. They divvied up the life jackets, and then we were pus.h.i.+ng away from the sh.o.r.eline.
I knew the river well. The rapids were bunched up at the end of the run, so for the first half, I tilted my head back and let the sun warm my face. The weather was at that point where if the wind wasn't blowing and the sun was s.h.i.+ning, it was almost too warm. The first half went by fast.
An intense winter and a late spring runoff had left the river deeper than usual, and most of the tourist rafts bugged out at the West Table cutoff, as the brochures suggested. Before the rapids got too bad.
Experienced locals were known to gamble on the level-five rapids just after West Table, but never with the spring runoff we'd had.
Which is why I kind of freaked out when-a half hour later-Cole and Maxwell steered our little raft away from the West Table sh.o.r.e, the final exit point.
”Uh, guys, we should probably...” I pointed to the disappearing sh.o.r.eline and had a sudden panic attack. ”If we all paddle backward-”
”Live a little,” Maxwell said from his steering post at the back of the raft.
”There are serious rapids ahead.” I waved my hand toward the approaching bend in the river. ”And the canyon walls mean there are no banks.”
”No way out, dude,” the drummer-Gavin-said from near the front. ”Sounds like a song.”