Roommates with a Player

Chapter Twenty Seven: A Picture Says a Thousand Words

            “I’m sorry, Ricky. But I really want to see Nathan.”

            “Fine. Whatever,” he stomped off.

            I sighed, not in the mood to deal with him. My phone buzzed, distracting me. That meant Nate was here! I dashed downstairs and straight to the door.

            “Where are you off to now, Em?” Michelle called from the kitchen.

            “I’m going with Nate to his house. I’ve got my phone and I’ll be back in a bit!” I replied, whipping the door open and slamming it behind me.

            “Hey, Emma!” Nate shouted, waving excitedly from his beat-up truck.

            I ran towards Nathan, leaping over to him when I was in distance. He stumbled back onto his truck.

            “Nate!” I squealed, latching onto him like a koala on a tree branch. “What’s up, buddy?!”

            “Nothing much. Just been missing you over Thanksgiving!” he laughed.

            “I missed you, too! I’ve got so much to tell you.”

            “Well then, let’s get going,” he grinned, setting me back on the ground and opening the passenger door for me.

            I climbed inside and Nathan got in seconds later.

            Nathan’s truck was very run down and rusty, but I didn’t mind. I liked how old and vintage it was; not many cars around here were like that. The inside of the cab was toasty and comfortable. The leather seats were scratchy and holey and the radio looked like an antique. There was a hula dancer bobble-head on the dashboard, along with sunglasses and candy wrappers.

            The truck wheezed to life and we putted down the drive and onto the main road. I reached over to tinker with the radio, but all that came out was static.

            “Good luck with that. It only plays AM stations,” Nate said.

            “Damn. And I was really wanting to jam out,” I laughed.

            “So, tell me about this crazy weekend of yours,” he pressed.

            I quickly told him about the lake house, the Jet Skis, Brennan and Markus, the party, the almost-kiss, Ricky saving me, and the nightmare. I conveniently left out the part about Ricky’s island.

            “Jesus Christ almighty!” Nate exclaimed when I finished. “And I was thinking maybe you’d been kidnapped and probed by aliens.”

            I giggled. “Not this time.”

            We drove a bit longer and Nathan told me about his Thanksgiving break. He’d had dinner with his family and worked on homework most of the time. I laughed to myself, thinking about how nerdy he was.

            “Emma, I have to tell you something about my house,” he said suddenly.

            “What is it?” I asked.

            “Well, it’s not as…big as Ricky’s and James’. In fact, it’s really not that impressive at all,” Nate explained, a look of worry on his face.

            “That’s okay. I actually don’t like big houses, so you’re in the clear. I’m excited to see what it looks like,” I reassured him.