The Play Page 70

Mom claps her hands. “Yessss! Let’s do it!”

Dora smiles at her daughter. “Go find those charades cards we wrote up last year, mami. They should be in the game drawer in the family room.”

Alicia hurries off excitedly.

I get up from my perch on the leather sofa. “I’m going to steal some candy from the bowl in the dining room. Anyone want some?”

“I’m surprised your teeth haven’t rotted off by now,” Nico’s mother chides with a sigh.

“Good genes,” I say, flashing my pearly whites. I’m a sugar fiend, yet I’ve never had a single cavity.

I pop into the other room and rummage through the bowl for something cherry-flavored. I’m barely gone five seconds before Nico’s gruff voice comes from the doorway.

“Can we talk?”

I’ve been dreading this. “There’s really nothing to say.”

He steps into the room. “Look, I’m not going to try to win you back, if that’s what you’re worried about. I get it, we’re done.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“But I did want to say I’m sorry. Not just for what happened with us, but for what I did to your hockey friend. I was drunk that night.” He shifts his feet, looking sheepish.

“You can save your apologies for Hunter. As for me, no apology is going to make up for what you did to me.” I suck in my cheeks as anger ripples through me. “We were together for so long and you played me like that?”

“I know. I’m sorry, D. I was an idiot, okay?”

“A horny idiot.”

Nico shakes his head. “No. It was about more than just sex. I…”

“You what?”

He makes a frustrated sound. “I can’t explain why I did it. It’s just…it’s hard to live up to your expectations sometimes, okay?”

My eyebrows fly out. “My expectations? Nico. The only expectation I ever had of you was to not stick your dick in anyone else. I hadn’t realized that was an impossible standard to meet,” I say sarcastically.

He scrapes one hand through his black hair. “You don’t get it. You’re so smart and you’ve always known exactly what you want to do with your life. And I’m just a fucked-up loser from Miami.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re too perfect, Demi. Even back when we were just friends, I always felt this need to impress you. And then we started dating and the pressure got even worse. I felt like I was trying to live up to something. And those other chicks, they threw themselves at me, made me feel like a big man, and I just ate it up, okay?” He avoids my gaze. “Whatever, it’s pathetic, but it’s the truth.”

“Yeah, it’s pathetic,” I agree, but my psychologist brain has already kicked in. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought that I was emasculating him. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, Nico. All I ever wanted was the best for you.”

“I get it. And I tried to be that dude you wanted. I worked my ass off to get into an Ivy League—”

“I never asked you to do that,” I protest.

“I felt like I had to. I knew I’d lose you if we went to different colleges. But…” He sounds frazzled. “But it’s so goddamn hard, D. I study so fucking hard. And I work even fucking harder because my family’s not as well-off as yours.”

“I never asked you to do any of that,” I maintain. But the guilt trip is having an effect on me. “You pushed yourself, Nico. Whatever urge was pushing you to do it, you still created that pressure within yourself. But if I gave off the impression that I needed you to be some perfect specimen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I always liked you exactly the way you were.”

“Liked?” he says sadly.

“Yeah. That’s usually what happens when you sleep with someone who isn’t me.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m disgusting. There’s no excuse.”

“Nope. But here’s a tip for next time, with the next girl—maybe you could talk to her about any insecurities you might be having, instead of needing to go out and get an ego boost from other women.”

“You make me sound even more pathetic when you phrase it like that.”

I sigh quietly. “The fact that you couldn’t talk to me about how you were feeling only shows that our relationship was never going to work. We were kids when we started going out. We were naïve to think it was going to last forever.”

“It would have, if I hadn’t screwed up.”

“But you did, and now we’ll never know what would’ve happened.” I brush past him, heading for the doorway. “It’s Christmas, Nico. Let’s go spend time with our families.”

“Demi.”

I glance over my shoulder and find remorse swimming in his dark eyes. “What is it?”

“There’s really no chance, is there?”

“No. There isn’t.”

 

 

On the car ride home, I send Happy Holidays! texts to TJ, Pax, and the other Lost Boys, and then I finally get a chance to text Hunter, who’s spending the holidays in Connecticut. Apparently his father’s company held a holiday party tonight, which Hunter and his mother were expected to attend because, well, because they’re nothing but props for his father.

ME: How’d it go tonight?

 

 

HIM: Not terrible. Open bar, good food. Danced with my mother to a live version of Baby It’s Cold Outside, which was awkward.

 

 

ME: Awkward? More like hot!

 

 

HIM: FFS! We’re talking about my mother here.

 

 

ME: Was your dad on his best behavior?

 

 

HIM: Of course. He’s gotta put on a show for his adoring fans.

 

 

“Demi,” Dad says from the driver’s seat. “Could you please close your window? Your mother’s cold.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” I absently hit the automatic button, but I press it the wrong way and end up opening the window fully rather than doing the opposite. “Oh shoot. Sorry, Mom.” I drop my phone on the seat beside me and click the button again.

“Who are you texting with?” she asks curiously.

“Just a friend.”

Dad pounces instantly. “This Hunter boy you mentioned earlier?”

I wrinkle my forehead. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment. When he does, suspicion colors his tone. “Nico doesn’t think much of him.”

Interesting. Looks like Nico had more to say when the men went out for their second round of cigars.

“I see.” I nod politely. “Because Nico’s opinion is the mantle by which we measure all wisdom and purity.”

“Demi,” Mom chides from the passenger side.

“What? It’s true? His moral compass isn’t exactly in working order.” I meet Dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “When you were outside talking about my friend, did Nico also tell you how he beat Hunter up?”

Mom gasps. “He didn’t! Did he?”