Head Down

Chapter 10

KATIE'S POV

The thing is, I can't. Nate might know about the way John treats me, but there's no reason for him to see the extent of it. If he did he -or Laura- could change their mind and tell the police, or worse begin to pity me. With all of the kindness and consideration Nate has showed me there was never an ounce of pity, and I intend to keep it that way.

I shake my head and walk away from him feeling inexplicably guilty. It's not my fault my brother is an abusive, controlling ass! Why should I feel guilty about keeping things from a guy I hardly know -though have decided isn't exactly a stranger with all the help he's given me- when it would only cause problems? It doesn't make sense. Just because my heart has completely lost it when it comes to Nate doesn't mean my brain has.

Even so, I avoid looking at the hurt expression I feel for sure to be on his face for the rest of lunch.

~

I'm walking down the hallway taking my own sweet time. School has just let out so everyone is in a rush like yesterday, but I unlike them am not eager to get home. Lunch had ended fine with me walking out with Claire, talking about maybe her and the other girls taking me out to see a movie or something on Saturday night -a celebration for my first week in Murphy. I told her I might be able to go, but I have a feeling John isn't going to want me out on a social gathering. Maybe I could just sneak out and he wouldn't notice.

I reach my locker and get my stuff together slowly, hoping to prolong my time before having to see John in his prolific Alpha mood again. There will be no climbing on the ivy this time, and I am sure to get more bruised. It's going to be difficult to hide them if what happened last time is any indication -especially from Nate. I don't want him to know I have been breaking my promise already.

I hear the metallic thump of something heavy hitting the lockers, and peek behind my door to see Nate leaning with his back up against them. He has his backpack on over one shoulder, and it has absorbed most of the blow, which for some reason I find pleasing. It not like the locker would've hurt him, but I still think it would've bothered me to see him in any kind of pain.

What is happening to me? He really isn't the one I have to worry about right now. Maybe it's just my being slammed against a wall this morning.

"Hey," he says. I smile in return and shut my locker, done with the homework preparations. "Ready?" he asks.

"For what?" I reply, though I have a sinking feeling I know the answer. It's not the being around him that bothers me at all -in fact I like it way more than I should- but the getting home so much quicker. While walking would take at least two hours, his truck is only twenty minutes.

"To drive of course," he says, shifting himself off the lockers. We begin to walk down the hall, and he randomly asks, "Why are your shoes orange?"

"What?" I say, confused.

"Why the orange color? There has to be a story behind it," he explains.

"Not really, it was the only thing in stock," I reply.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"You're sure?" he's doing this to be funny now. Despite my better instincts, it's working.

"Positive. Why can't I have orange shoes without a back story?"

He shrugs, "It's just not the usual color. I guess I'm being kind of sound shoe racist."

"Shoe racist?" I ask, holding back a laugh. Everyone else is gone from the hallway -my lolly gagging successful- so I'm the only one to hear how ridiculous he's being. It's a shame.