Nova and Quinton: No Regrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

hate confrontation. I really, really do. “Which makes you such a good person.”
    I plaster on a smile, because I have to. He’s in a fragile state—I know that. And he relies on me a lot. If we weren’t friends, I have no idea what would happen with him. Whether he’d be able to take care of himself or slip back into old habits, and I don’t want to find out.
    I casually turn my head toward the windshield, pretending that the only reason is that I’m going to back up the car. “You’re so weird sometimes…” I crank the wheel to the left and finish backing out of the spot. “Always complimenting me.”
    “
I’m
weird.” He gapes at me, pointing at himself. “You’re the one who always says goofy things.”
    “I do not,” I protest, even though it’s true. I do say goofy things sometimes, when I get nervous.
    “You do, too,” he insists as I straighten up the wheel and drive out of the parking lot. “Like that one time you told me some random fact about a raccoon.”
    “I do that when I’m nervous.”
    “Still, it’s goofy.”
    “It’s not that goofy. It just means I have a colorful personality.”
    “A colorful, goofy personality.” He takes a drag on his cigarette and then starts hacking as he blows out the smoke. He hurries to roll the window down, coughing as he spits.
    “You’re so gross.” I pull a disgusted face. “Seriously.”
    “Hey, I have a cold,” he says defensively as he slumps back in the seat with his arm resting on the sill so most of the smoke goes out the window. “I can’t help it.”
    “You’ve had that cold for a couple of weeks now. Maybe it’s time to go get it checked out.” I turn out on the main road that goes straight through the center of town. It’s bordered by trees and, since it’s fall, the leaves have fallen onto the street and sidewalks. It’s a beautiful sight and fall is one of my favorite times of the year.
    “Okay, Mom.” He rolls his eyes as he takes another drag.
    “Or maybe stop smoking,” I say. “You know those things can kill you, right?”
    “You know, you’re sounding sort of preachy.” He ashes his cigarette out the window, grinning amusedly. “But that’s okay. I know you only do it because you’re secretly in love with me.”
    I give him a blank stare, working hard to restrain a smile because the big goofy grin on his face looks so silly. “You’re such a dork.”
    “Good. I can be the dork and you can be the goof and we can complete each other.”
    I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Okay, easy there, Jerry Maguire.”
    His face contorts with perplexity. “Who the hell’s Jerry Maguire?”
    My laughter shifts to shock. “Are you kidding me?”
    He shakes his head. “No, who is the guy?”
    “It’s not a guy… well, it is, but what you just said… it’s from the movie
Jerry Maguire
…” I trail off as his confusion deepens. “Never mind. But may I point out that the fact that you weren’t quoting the movie makes it ten times cheesier that you just said that.”
    Grinning, he raises his balled fist in the air, like he’s celebrating. “Yeah, now I’m a dork and cheesy. That makes us even more compatible.”
    I can’t help but smile again, despite the fact that I think he might be hitting on me, because it’s funny. And I need funny right now. Need happy, otherwise I’ll start focusing on the worry. Focusing on Quinton and if he’s okay.
    We continue to talk for the rest of the drive to the pizza place, about goofiness and being dorks. Eventually the topic shifts to school, like how many classes he’s going to sign up for next semester. By the end of the drive, he’s telling me again that I act like his mom. Well, not his mom, per se, because he rarely talks to her, something I don’t understand because he hasn’t opened up to me about it yet. But by the time we get back to our apartment, we’ve veered off the arguing and started chatting about the movie we rented,
Anchorman
, which he