Chapter 4: Seeing danger spots

NATE

"Nate. Hello? Earth to Nathaniel. Your mother's been talking to you for the last five minutes."

I glanced up from my plate. "What?"

My parents exchanged a look I was all too familiar with: worry and anxiety thinly veiled with amusement. They were wondering if me being preoccupied meant something was brewing inside me, something that could threaten my health and possibly land me in the hospital for days. And of course, along with that concern came the fear that this could be a symptom that my disease was progressing. I knew it was what they dreaded. Hell, I did, too. I'd been maintaining for so long, rolling along on a careful regiment of meds, monitored exercise and an enforced eight hours of sleep each night. It would be easy to fall into the trap of complacency, but after seventeen plus years of battling this motherfucker, health was nothing I ever took for granted.

"I'm fine." I stressed the two words. "I feel great. Not hiding anything. I'm just in a bad mood. You guys have to remember I'm a teenager. Aren't you, like, supposed to be ready for me being sullen and rude?"

My dad nodded, his expression solemn. "Sher, this is the day we've been waiting for. Get out his baby book. Mark down the day. Our son is being a moody teenager."

"If you think this is a first, you haven't been paying attention." My mother shook her head and resumed eating. "He's been surly and mopey before tonight." She winked at me. "On occasion, of course."

"I must've missed that." My dad took another serving of carrots, but I could feel his eyes on me. "Practice go okay today?"

"It was canceled." I dragged my fork through the white sauce my mom had made for the chicken.

"He walked home." My mom was trying to keep her tone casual, but I detected that underlying curiosity. "With Quinn, right?"

"Yeah." I pushed the plate away from me, my appetite gone. I knew that if I asked to be excused right now, it would only ramp up their worry. Instead, I leaned back in my chair, stretching out my legs beneath the table.

"Hey, Sheri, don't you have your chick meet up tonight? It's almost seven." My dad glanced at the clock on the microwave.

"Crap." My mother slid back her chair and jumped up. "I didn't realize it was so late. Can you guys-"

"We got clean up here. Go on, get going. Don't forget the wine, and tell Lisa and Carrie I said hey."

"You two are my heroes." Mom dropped a quick kiss on my dad's lips, patted my shoulder, snagged a bottle of wine and her keys from the counter and dashed out the back door. My father grinned at me, shaking his head.

"I swear that woman would be late to her own funeral." He stood up, carrying his plate to the sink. "You cool to scrape and load if I clear and wipe?"

"Sure." That was our normal mode; any time I could stand still to do something, it worked out better for everyone.

We handled the dishes in comfortable silence, until I couldn't take it anymore. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Ah, are you finally going to break down and ask me to teach you my killer dance moves?" He executed a spin in the middle of the kitchen floor, complete with jazz hands. It was the kind of stuff that cracked my mom up, and I just shook my head, sighing.

"Sorry, no. How did you know Mom was the one?"

He brought me two empty bowls and leaned a hip against the counter. "The one what?"

"The one. You know. The one you wanted to marry. To love forever. Your soul mate, or whatever." I ran a plate under the water.

"Nate, you know, I'm not sure I believe in that stuff. The one? Like if I hadn't met your mother, I'd never have fallen in love with anyone, ever, and I'd have been alone my whole life? No, I don't buy that." When I shot him an incredulous look, he laughed. "That doesn't mean I don't love your mom. I do. She's awesome, and she's hot."

"Dad. Ew. God, who wants to hear that?"

"You asked, bud. Okay, I'm assuming you mean how did I fall in love with your mom." He crossed his arms over his chest. "It was the way she stood."

That made no sense at all to me. "What do you mean?"

"We were both working on a float for homecoming. My fraternity and her sorority were co-sponsoring it. I walked into this garage, down the college motor pool, and it was crowded with people milling around, drinking beer-hey, it was college." Dad smirked. "Tons of people there, but I headed for the trailer where they were building the float. They had the chicken wire up already, and all these girls were stuffing it with tissue paper. Some of them were cute, but there was this chick standing off to the side, watching them, and she had her hands in the back pockets of her jeans-" He demonstrated. "And there was just something about the way she stood there. I'm not going to lie about it. A good part of her appeal was physical. I was twenty years old, and my first thought was, hey, I'd tap that."

"Dad, this isn't what I was talking about." I loaded the last glass into the dishwasher and closed the door. "I get that you thought Mom was a total babe. But how did you get the ba-the guts to do something about it?"

"There wasn't any choice. I couldn't not walk over to her. I couldn't stop myself from talking to her. It was a while before she took me seriously, but once she did, I was smart enough not to let her go. Not to screw it up, you know?"

"Uh huh."

My father took the dish towel from my hand and folded it, draping the damp cloth over the handle of the dishwasher. "So. Quinn, huh?"

"Hmmm?" I pretended to be occupied with brushing crumbs off the counter. "What about Quinn?"

"Buddy, your mom and I might not be experts in many fields-well, okay, not in any. But we are very proficient in reading our only child. Mom's been a little worried about your feelings for Quinn for quite a while."

My shoulders slumped. "Why?"

Dad sighed and pulled out a chair, spinning it around to sit backward on it. I wondered if he realized how much I wished I could do the same, but I'd end up tangled up when my legs didn't do what I needed them to do. I leaned against the sink instead.

"Nate, like it or not, we're always going to be protective parents. We gave up apologizing for that a long time ago, and we give each other a lot of credit for the areas where we've been able to give you a little latitude. Like crew. But don't fool yourself-it isn't easy. We're always looking ahead to see where there may be danger spots for you. Risks." He took a deep breath and blew it out. "And Quinn is one of those."

When I began to protest, my father held up one hand. "Not on purpose. Your mom and I love that girl like she's our daughter, and we know she loves you, too. But maybe ...maybe not the same way you love her."

My face was flushed; I could feel the warmth spreading down my neck. "How do you know that? Maybe she does and she just doesn't realize it yet."

"Nate." Dad's eyes locked on me. "Come on, son. One thing we've never done is lie to each other, right? I'm straight with you, and I expect you to be the same with me. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that Quinn's got it pretty bad for Leo."

My father was right. This wasn't news to me. I'd realized that Quinn loved Leo when we were in eighth grade, probably even before she knew it herself. Every day since that time, I'd waited for her to figure out that he was never going to return those feelings, but that I did. I held my breath for the moment when she looked at me and saw a guy who was going to love her with all he was for the rest of his life.

But it didn't happen. To Quinn, I was still just Nate, the kid she'd been sticking up for and championing as long as we could both remember. I'd fantasized about just yanking her into my arms and kissing her until she felt the truth. The only thing that stopped me was the fear that she'd kiss me back out of pity. Out of love for a friend, not out of passion.

"He doesn't deserve her." The words, filled with bitterness and yes, jealousy, flew from my mouth. "He's not even a good friend anymore. And he's fucking anything in a skirt." Any other time, I'd have been shocked at dropping the F-bomb in front of my father, but tonight, nothing mattered. What was he going to do? Ground me?

But my dad didn't even blink. He rubbed his forehead, frowning as he looked off into the distance, over my shoulder.

"Leo's feeling his oats, for sure. Lisa and Joe are a little worried about him. He's been partying hard, and his grades are slipping. You know, Simon and Danny were pretty hot on the basketball court, but nothing like what Leo's doing in football. Joe thinks he'll get a full ride at any college he likes-providing he doesn't screw it up."

"Which is just one more reason to keep Quinn away from him. He'd make her miserable."

"Or maybe she'd be the one to help him turn it all around. We don't know. But that's all out of our control, Nate. The only thing I can do in this situation is tell you to be careful. Don't build up your hopes about Quinn, okay, son? You're a terrific guy, and there's a shit-ton of girls who'd love to date someone like you. Don't tell your mom I said that." He grinned, but it began to fade as soon as he realized I wasn't smiling, too. "We don't want to see you waste your high school years pining away after someone who just can't return those feelings. Be Quinn's friend, but please, accept that she's never going to be more than that. Okay?"

He searched my face for acquiescence, and I knew if I didn't give in, he'd keep talking, keep saying the same shit that was tearing at my heart. He was worried, I got that. It was no secret that deep emotion could trigger a flare or make me more vulnerable to getting seriously sick. He and my mom thought that if my heart broke, it would put me at risk.

So I swallowed hard, gave a curt nod and stalked out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom, where I could be alone with my stubbornly unshattered dreams.