The S.U.N. and The Peter Pan Project

Chapter 8

Nate was eating a plate full of pancakes at the kitchen table when I got there.

Unsure of his current mood, I didn’t acknowledge him and poured myself some orange juice before sitting in front of him.

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry…”

In fact, I felt sick and it had nothing to do with Nate’s presence.

It was like there was an internal battle between my mind, which had accepted to play along until Nick brought some light on my presence among the boys, and my body, which rebelled against my resilience. 

“I get it, you know…” He said before shoving a huge mouthful of pancake dripping in maple syrup in his mouth. “Even though you’ve agreed to give us – or rather Matt – a try, deeply, it still feels wrong…”

What????

“How do you know that’s how I feel?!” I snapped.

“Sweetie…”

I exploded.

“I am NOT your SWEETIE. In fact I am NOT your anything! You don’t know me, so stop acting like you do. I don’t like you either, you know, but I don’t go and rub it in your face all the freaking time. You think I’m pathetic? Fine by me! I think you’re arrogant and presumptuous…”

I was so angry that I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I just want to go back home…

I knew I had to get away from him before I started “crying ugly” again and no way did I want to give him that satisfaction.

“I’m sorry.” 

“What?!” My voice broke.

He was blushing, his eyes staring embarrassedly at his plate.

“I’m used to treating girls that way. It has nothing to do with you per se. You’re clearly not my type of girl, no offence…” He paused.

“None taken. You’re clearly not my type either. Not that I have a type but you know what I mean…” I answered feeling much calmer all of a sudden.

“Yeah I know… Anyway, in the current context, you being my type or not shouldn’t affect the way I treat you. I’ve been acting like a ass and I’m really sorry about it.”

God! What’s happened to him?!

“I accept your apologies but can you be yourself again, well, minus the “Sweetie” and the patronizing tone?”

He chuckled.

“I’ve got the feeling it’d be too hard to hate you anyway…”

“Glad to see good ol’ Nate is back.” I replied with a playful tone.

“Ok, Miss Bitter…” I slapped his arm and he laughed. “You still need to eat something, though. Boss’s orders.”

I rolled my eyes but grabbed a croissant and bit into it.

“Happy?”

“Very!” He replied while grabbing two other pastries from the plate. “Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

I grabbed my bag and followed him.

“You’re driving me?!”

Once outside, I panicked when he opened the passenger door of his black S.U.V.

“I…I can’t drive. I mean, you can’t drive before you’re eighteen in France…”

He had this huge grin on as he shook his head slowly.