Willa & the Extraordinary Internship

CH. 40

"So, um, I didn't mention it before but I reached out to Cyn."

"You did what?" Nate blinked, looking adorably befuddled. His face pinched together in disbelief before he smoothed out his features, striving for a supportive boyfriend face.

"I sent Cyn a letter," said Willa, matter of fact in her response. Her eyes continued to skim her manuscript, double-checking one final time for any misplaced apostrophes, run-on sentences, and double negatives.

"You can't just drop a bombshell like that and then just continue doing—" Nate made a noise that was half wheeze, half scoff. With a pained sigh, he sat down on his couch, pushed his cat out of the way, and gave Willa a hard look.

Her back was against the armrest and with the fur ball out of the way, that was all the invitation she needed to prop her legs on his lap. Absently, he began to rub her feet, taking her hint by instinct.

"I thought things were over between the three of you," he said.

Willa glanced at him from the top of her laptop. She hadn't told him about Luke's unexpected visit and even though it wasn't a secret, it wasn't something she felt like going into. Her past relationship was like the Hilarie Duff song she played on repeat when she was in middle school - so yesterday.

"They are." She wiggled her toes to remind him to keep pressing her toes when she felt his hands still.

"So what's the deal?" For the first time, a note of frustration entered Nate's voice, surprising her.

"I wanted to clear the air."

He ignored her wiggling toes. "So you apologized?"

"No." Willa peeked at him again, wondering if he was pissed at her.

"Good. You shouldn't have to. I don't think people can be friends again after such harsh words have been said."

Willa nodded. "I have no intention of being friends with them again." The moment she said the words, she felt weird, like he'd pushed her into saying them.

"I just don't want you to get sucked back in and fall back into the same patterns with those people," said Nate. "There's this quasi-religious belief that when friendships get tested, the friends come out stronger than they were before. That's bullshit."

He was looking at her so expectantly that Willa wasn't sure what to say, so she settled for another nod. His pessimistic zeal bothered her sometimes, but she didn't think he was wrong either - just that sometimes the force of his opinions could be overwhelming.

"If you had a problem with someone before, you're probably going to have the same or similar problem with them again." Nate resumed Willa's foot massage, but now his hands felt too hard and his knuckles too bony against her sensitive sole.

Willa's fingers stilled over her keyboard. "Are there any relationships you think highly of?"

Nate froze, looking at her with something akin to surprise. "Of course." He stared at her bright mustard nail paint. "I didn't—"

"No," Willa hastened to say. "Forget it. I wasn't, like, judging you or anything. I was just—"

"You're right," Nate said, loud enough to drown out her voice. "I'm really good at the cons and not so great at the pros." He gave her a rueful smile. "Sorry."

"I don't want you to apologize if that's how you feel."

"Once you start looking at people like loaves of bread, you start to feel less invested in their friendship," he explained, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

"Bread?" Willa's smile was amused.

"You know. Like, they have a sell-by," explained Nate. "An expiration date." He threaded his fingers through her toes and held it there. "Once I realized that people—friends—were just transient fixtures in my life, they lost most of their meaning. I don't want to be friends with people who are going to move on. I don't want to be friends with people who are using me in order to fill their social quota so they don't feel inferior to their more popular peers." He snorted. "I guess there's not a lot of people with my views on friendships."

"I don't want my friendships to be fake, either," said Willa. "Your views are great in theory, but people aren't like that in real life. People are messy." She curled her toes around his fingers and he looked up at her, smiling.

"You're not," Nate countered.

A giggle escaped her. "Yes," she said, grinning at him, "I really am."

Nate reached over and ruffled her hair, ignoring Willa's half-hearted hey! and mussing up her straightened locks. "I want to freeze you."

"Cryogenic humor," drawled Willa. "Very sexy." Her hands smoothed down her flyaway hair, trying to maintain a semblance of neatness.

Nate smirked. "You're my bread, Willa. I don't want you to have an expiration date. So I'm going to put you in the fridge and hold all those green, moldy spots at bay." The tips of his fingers grazed the soles of her feet until she wriggled them at his ticklish touch.

He leaned forward as if about to impart a big secret. "I'm going to keep you," he declared.

Willa smiled. "You've kinda put me in the mood for a sandwich." She twitched her toes. "Subway?"

Nate nodded toward her laptop. "Jackie gave you a week to send your manuscript to her. Are you sure you have the time to head out and grab food?"

Willa's eyes darted over the laptop screen. "Mhm." She saved her progress and pushed down on the screen of her Macbook Pro until the laptop closed. "I think," she said after a long, pregnant pause, "I'm finally done."

Author's Note: eep! So Willa's feeling pretty confident about this story, right? :) What do you guys think will be next for her? And do you think her relationship with Nate is strong - or on the rocks? Is it a case of opposites attract? ;)