Nate hadnât talked to most of the old group in years; whether theyâd just lost contact, or refused to talk to him, or whatever. It didnât make much of a difference, logistically. It all hurt, but Nate would be lying if he said he didnât understand it. Heâd made terrible choices, and whether that resulted in someone getting hurt, or himself being forgotten, in the end he probably earned the cold shoulder he was facing. Somehow, in some twisted part of his mind, that made it a little easier to stomach.
He had been a little surprised when Jamie sent him a message, inviting him to a party. Jamie had walked away from the group without a glance back, gone on to better things. Nate had always assumed heâd moved on and didnât think of the rest of them as anything more than nostalgic pieces of his childhood. But apparently he missed them. Or, some of them, or maybe just the way being a part of a group made him feel. He had to work until right before the party, and as much as he wanted to see his old friends, everything had ended on such a bad note. He told Jamie he would try to come, and he left it at that. Then Camilla sent him a message, just checking in on him, and he decided that he would go.
He was going to be a little late, but when wasnât he? He had to head back home to shower and get changed; smelling like donuts wasnât the worst thing in the world, but it wasnât really what he was going for. Not that he had a signature smell, or even an actual look, but nobody enjoys smelling like work at a party.
Beautiful Strangers was in full swing when he arrived. Heâd always liked them okay, and he had to admit they were better than theyâd been back in high school. He scanned the crowd for a moment, trying to pick out what to do, who to see. He saw that Erin was manning the bar, which felt a little awkward to him, so he decided to put off getting a drink. He probably shouldnât drink too much, anyway; it looked like the kind of party Nate could easily ruin if he had too much to drink.
It wasnât long before Nate heard a familiar voice from beside him, âHey! You made it, after all.â
Nate turned to smile at Jamie, âYeah, I made it work.â Jamie seemed happy enough to see him, and Nate wasn't sure how he felt about that. Jamie had walked away from the group so easily when things got tough in the end, so he didn't really know what to think of him anymore.
Jamie started to say something else, but his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere. He flashed an apologetic smile at Nate, âI need to go talk to somebody, but Iâll see you later.â
Nate doubted that, but he decided not to dwell on it, and just waved Jamie away. A glance in the direction of the bar told him that Erin wasnât there, so that was his next destination. He didnât let the bar being unmanned stop him from getting a drink, but he didnât linger there for too long. He did some mingling, some people watching. He remembered these parties being a lot more fun. Maybe heâd just had more friends back then. âHey, Nate,â It was Jamie again, âCan I ask you something?â Nate wasnât sure what Jamie could possibly want from him, but he didnât get much of a chance to think it over before Jamie went on, âHow are you really doing?â
The question seemed nice enough, and Nate knew that Jamie was vaguely familiar with the fact that Nate had struggled in the not-so-distant past, but Nate couldnât say he fully understand the purpose of the question, âEverythingâs fine, I-â
âI just thought, isnât it a little embarrassing? Seeing all your old friends succeeding, and youâre doing what? Nothing?â Nate opened his mouth to try to say something, to defend himself, but Jamie didnât give him much of a chance, âI mean, if youâre happy, thatâs what matters, but I canât help but think about how you donât seem to have gotten over what happened to Kyle. You just seem a little stuck.â
Nate shook his head, âNo, I-â
Jamie interrupted him again, which was starting to get frustrating, âOr is that just an excuse Iâm making for you?â
Nate blinked a few times, as if he thought this was some sort of dream he could wake up from, or some trick of the eye, âWhat?â
âI mean, letâs be honest, Nate, I know life is easier when youâre relying on everyone around you to pick up the pieces-â
This time, Nate did the interrupting, âIs that why you invited me? To make you feel better about yourself?â Nate shook his head, he was fairly sure that whatever this was, it wasnât really about him.
Then Jamie opened his stupid mouth again, âI mean, itâs really not that hard to feel okay about myself when youâre such a lazy piece of shit.â Nate had heard those words, or some variation, for most of his life, and before he really knew what he was doing, he felt his hand connect squarely to Jamieâs smug face. Jamie held a hand to his jaw, looking more surprised than he had a right to, âWhat the hell?â
Nate knew immediately that he shouldnât have done that, but he was still seeing red; so, pointing right to Jamieâs chest, he replied with, âStay in your own fucking lane, asshole.â He could feel eyes on him, he knew people were staring. Shit. Turning to walk away only confirmed it, people were staring at him. Wonderful.