“Go on,” I urge. Nate’s hand slips into mine, his thumb rubbing over the nail marks gently.
“He said you’re using us for a place to live, just like you did with him. That Nate was deluded if he thought you actually liked him, because you’re fake. Then he said…fuck.” Henry drags his hand down his face and stares at the bedding. “I’m sorry, Stassie. I’m sorry I have to repeat this…He said no one will ever be able to love you, because how could they when your own parents couldn’t, and the ones who bought you only want you to fill up their trophy cabinet.”
“Fuck,” Nate snaps.
“And that’s when I punched him.”
“Nathan, you’re hurting me,” I whisper, looking at my pink fingers where he’s gripping me too tight.
“Thanks for telling me, Hen,” I say, steadying my voice. “And thanks for defending me. I’m sorry I brought this drama to your door.”
He looks uncomfortable and I feel it too. “Sabrina said I’m not allowed to talk about whether you two love each other or not, but I love you, Anastasia. I was serious when I said I want you to live here. Whether you two are together or not, if you get tired of Nathan you can sleep in my room. I’ll get the air mattress again.”
There’s a loud, dramatic sob threatening to rip out of me but I push it down, nodding my head instead. “I love you, too, Henry.”
He grabs his empty cereal bowl and leaves the room, and when the door closes, Nathan pulls me on top of him and leans back, cradling my head on his chest as I wrap myself around him. “Let it all out. You’re safe. I’m here.”
So, I let the dam break and hold him tight, while every emotion I’ve been suppressing hits me all at once.
Nathan lets me cry until I wear myself out, and when I’m finally silent, he tells me what he’s been patiently waiting for me to be ready to hear.
“I know you’re not using me. I know you’re not trying to trap me. I fucking love living with you. The guys love living with you, weallwant you here. I know you like me, even though you definitely hate it,” he adds, chuckling as he presses his lips to my forehead.
“Really, really hate it.”
“I don’t know how much you care about my opinion on this, but you’re an incredibly talented skater. I have every faith you’re going to achieve all your goals. I would not be forcing my tree trunk body into fucking yoga positions if I didn’t think you and your talent were worth it.”
“Nate…”
“I’m not done. You’re a good person, Anastasia. I’m sorry I don’t tell you every day. You make me feel cared for, feel listened to, and the other stuff I don’t even know how to put into words properly. You make me feel valued, for who I am as me, not who I am as team captain or whatever.”
“I do value you.”
“That isn’t a feeling I’ve had in a long time. Not since my mom was alive. I love the guys, but it’s not the same thing. I can’t think how to describe it…It’s like there’s a spot in your life you keep just for me. One I don’t have to share, one where you don’t expect anything from me. Do you know how amazing it is? How lucky I feel to know you? You make me want to be the best I can be.”
“Oh…”
“You’re smart and determined, and you are so fucking worthy of love, Anastasia.Soworthy. You’re surrounded by people who love you, and we’re all on your team. Aaron isn’t, and it’s why he’s trying to hurt you. I’m sorry you had to listen to it.”
“Thank you for saying, well, everything. You make me feel valued too.”
“It’s the truth, and I wish I’d told you before this. Look, I don’t feel like it’s my place to talk about your parents, but from what you’ve told me about them, it sounds like you’re the best thing to ever happen to them.”
I nod, saying nothing more. He’s answered every question or doubt in my mind. It’s not enough to stop the noise, but it has turned the volume down a little bit.
We lie on the bed in silence for a while, and when I promise I’m feeling a little better, Nate gives me the space I’m craving to process. He heads to the gym with Robbie and Henry, leaving me home with JJ and Sabrina, who claim thatworking out is for losers. In their ultimate wisdom, they’ve both decided to keep me distracted by furthering my culinary education.
Sabrina has been feeling guilty about the whole meal plan disaster, scolding herself for not paying closer attention. Like me, she doesn’t think Aaron did it on purpose, but she thinks she could have weighed in more and prevented the whole mess.
Since then, she’s been trying to teach me some more of her favorite dishes. Well, she was, until JJ banished her from the kitchen and told her to sit on the other side of the kitchen island when she started criticizing how I cut chicken.
JJ told her if she wasn’t going to play nicely, she wasn’t allowed to play. Brin called him Daddy and it all got very weird for a moment.
We’re making butter chicken because—quoting JJ—basic white girls like me love butter chicken. JJ has already told me it might suck because we haven’t marinated the chicken long enough, but we’re sticking to it anyway because Johal-Allali-Allens aren’t quitters.
He watched me add baking soda to the dry ingredients for our naans, checking I remember after he taught me last week. Now I’m flipping the fifth one on the tawa, he’s lost interest and is swiping on a dating app.
Learning to cook new recipes is healing my relationship with food. I’d be lying if I said looking at the cream we put into the chicken didn’t have my fingers twitching to open my calorie app, but I’m trying hard to enjoy the moment.