19th January.

Nathan drives us to mom's house and I do my best not to think about how this feels like such a family thing to do. The radio is on, I'm in the passenger seat, Lydia is in her booster in the back.

She softly hums along to an Adele song and I keep catching Nathan peeping in the rear view mirror with a smile.

I think about how he was brushing her hair earlier, letting her chat to him while he stood there with intense focus and a furrowed brow, as if he was dedicated to brushing her hair perfectly. He had no idea I was watching, but I was, watching with more longing than I had a right to.

Lydia's definitely taken a liking to him and he has a lot of patience for her. Which I'm grateful for, because we couldn't have lived with him if they didn't get along.

We stop at the diner and get burgers for lunch, per Lydia's request. Nathan opted for a pasta salad instead. He's always been a health nut but he never pushes that on anyone else.

When mom sent the text this morning, asking if I would bring Lydia to see her, I'd wanted to tell her no and I've never felt like that before. What made it worse was Lydia making it clear she had no interest in seeing mom. I understood that and I never wanted to force people on her life, relative or not.

My skin tingles when I remember Nathan holding me in his bedroom, how he'd run his hands up and down my back, comforted me, wiped my tears. I should've felt embarrassed, but I didn't. He'd found the perfect way to help us get to mom's this morning and as we pulled up to her house, I still couldn't believe he'd volunteered his time like that.

We walk up to the door, Nathan holds the bag of food and Lydia kicks snow on the footpath. I open the door and mom is vacuuming. She quickly flicks it off with her slippered foot. Leggings cling to her firm legs and her hoodie swallows her up.

"Hey, my girls," she smiles at me, so I return it. I'm not going to be hostile unless she gives me a reason to be.

Lydia gives her a hug, but she doesn't say hello. It's probably a good thing we moved out when we did, mom was at risk of alienating Lydia with the way she was going. Mom looks past me at Nathan who comes in last and closes the door behind him. Her brow furrows. I hadn't mentioned he'd be coming.

"Hey, Ms Laurel," he takes his boots off at the door. "How's it going?"

Mom looks at me, her expression curious as she answers, "Good. How are you, Nathan?"

"Same old, same old," he ditches his coat when I take the bag of food from him. He's wearing a hoodie and slacks that hug his thighs. He wears short sleeves at home because the fire keeps us warm. I told him that wouldn't be the case here.

"We made a squirrel house," Lydia tells mom. "Nathan and me."

Mom takes Lydia's hand and leads her into the kitchen, gesturing for me to follow. "Did you? Tell me all about it, sweetheart."

Lydia does tell her all about it. She blabbers on while I get plates out of the cupboard and set the kitchen table. Nathan sidles up to me while I'm unboxing the food and leans in close.

"Can I help?"

Looking up, I smile and try not to stare at his thick lashes and familiar mouth. "You're doing enough by being here."

He leans back against the counter next to me and slips his hands into his pockets, watching.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

As I'm putting Lydia's burger onto a plate, a little bit of sauce drips onto my finger. I quickly stick it in my mouth and lick it off. Looking up, I find Nathan focused on my lips, finger still between them. His jaw flutters and my stomach bottoms out.

"What?" I ask, feeling heat crawling up my neck.

His voice lowers into that deep gravel tone that grips me by the throat. "I could've done that for you."

I quickly look at my mom and Lydia, relieved to find that neither of them are listening to us. Nathan smirks when I look back at him and I wish I had the wit to respond. But mostly I'm wound up, overheated and confused.

So confused because I have no idea what's going on between us but I love it when he looks at me like that.

             The four of us sit at the table and eat, Nathan next to me and Lydia next to mom. There's no terse silence between them, no uncomfortable pauses. Lydia behaves as she usually does when we visit and I'm relieved. Not for myself or mom. But for Lydia. She's already lost her dad, I don't want her to lose another family member who she loves so much.

Halfway into her burger, Lydia gets up and goes to the toilet. Mom, pushing her braids behind her shoulder looks at Nathan and I and narrows her stare.

"You two together?"

Nathan almost chokes on his mouthful of pasta. This line of questioning comes at no surprise to me, I just didn't think she would do it in front of him.

"No," I answer with boredom. "Lydia has just made a friend of Nathan and she wanted him to come. That's all."

As much as I want to tell her to mind her own business, I'm not going to start an argument in front of company. And that's what would happen.

"Him being here is not why I asked," mom wipes her hand on a paper towel. "You two look cozy."

I see Nathan look at me from my peripheral but I keep my stare empty and straight forward. Momma looks for my reactions, my tells. A simple flinch in my facials will have her jumping to conclusions. I refuse to give her that fuel.

"A man and a woman can be friends without it being more, mom," I bite my burger and a drip of sauce slips down my chin.

It's abhorrent really, to think of such an idea when I'm sitting in front of my mother, but Nathan gets the upper hand with me a little too often. So I wipe the sauce off my chin with my thumb, stick it between my lips and suck it off slow.

This time I know exactly what I'm doing.

Nathan's whole body shifts next to me, he faces forward again, angling his body away and I have to fight off laughter and hope like hell my mom didn't notice the shameless flirting unfolding before her.

Mom seems oblivious when she says, "well alright then. That could be a little confusing for that girl if y'all started dating. Plus, Ivan was asking after you, his son was curious to see you back in town. He's single."

"You're not talking about Austin?" I ask with disdain. "Momma no. He's . . . no."

"He's nice," momma defends.

Austin is fake, that's what he is. He and Drayton had been friends in high school, sort of. Drayton knocked him out cold one thanksgiving when he'd been rude to Dallas and the friendship hadn't fully mended.

While a lot of our class had moved out of town and gone to college, he'd hung back, fallen into drugs, got clean, started working at the video game store, drugs again, clean again.

It's not the drugs that make him an asshole, he was like that long before his addiction and aside from being a bit of a hot headed flirt, he's harmless. But momma is a victim to his sweet talking and she thinks he's an absolute sweetheart. 

"I'd rather not, thanks momma."

"Well, that's for the best. You focus on Lydia. You don't need a man."

I smile at her, glad she let this one go. "That we can agree on."

I finally look at Nathan, his bowl empty and his arms folded on the table while he stares at nothing. Lydia comes bouncing back into the room then, the smell of hand sanitizer following.

She slides back onto her seat, picks up her burger and looks at me. "Can we go home now?"

Momma's brow furrows as she stares at Lydia, her mouth turning down in hurt.

"We have to finish our lunch, babe," I tell her.

"I want to finish my squirrel house."

Nathan stands up and takes both of our empty plates, which probably wasn't great timing when momma looks at him with that fierce scolding stare that I can't look directly at.

"She's not leaving right now," momma snaps at Nathan.

He stops half way to the sink and looks back at her. "I'm just clearing the dishes ma'am."

He wasn't disrespectful but his tone definitely implied she shouldn't talk to him like that and as someone who's all for boundaries, I kind of love it. 

Momma, perhaps a little embarrassed, doesn't say anything else and instead looks at Lydia. "I thought we could go to the mall and get a few things this afternoon. If mom doesn't mind?"

"You could've asked me that in private," I say, frustrated that she's put both Lydia and I on the spot.

Nathan rinses the plates, his back to us while I gesture for Lydia to follow me out of the room. He's a grown up, he'll be fine on his own for a few minutes.

"Where are you going?" Mom asks.

"To talk to her in private."

Out in the living room, I sit on the sofa and Lydia stands in front of me, an expectant look on her face, as if she can't understand why I've taken her from her food. The attitude sometimes.

"Do you want to go to the mall with Grandma? Or do you want to come home?"

She twists from side to side, humming in thought. "Well, I want to work on my squirrel house. But grandma might buy me stuff."

Always on a hustle.

"She might," I say. "But even if she doesn't, it's nice to spend time together."

"Yeah, sure."

I give her a warning look. "And listen, the squirrel house will be there when you get home. Nathan won't work on it without you."

She carries on humming in thought, her finger on her chin.

"It's up to you, babe. You don't have to go. If you don't want to, I'll tell Grandma we have things to do."

Her little shoulders shrug, stars all over her thermal. "Grandma is being nice today. I'll go. Hopefully she buys me a waffle cone."

"You just be grateful for whatever you end up doing."

She throws her arms around my neck and shouts, "yes mommy."

She's so loud sometimes but I know where she gets it from. I miss that energy. I feel like I'm so drained all the time and things don't enthuse me like they used to. I hug her a bit tighter, glad that she's exactly who she is.

Back in the kitchen, Nathan is sitting at the table, momma listens while he talks about his curriculum this semester. Lydia and I quietly slide into our seats and I find myself mesmerised by the obvious passion in his voice.

He talks about his students too, their unique personalities and traits. Even the difficult students are among his favourites because he often sees their potential in other aspects of life. Their passion for things school might not offer but can still take them far. Often the more troublesome kids have the kindest hearts too, always being there for their peers.

I smile at him. "You sound like you were meant to teach."

There's a little flinch of surprise in his brow. But he's quick to cover it up. "I like it and the students are good. Yeah, I can't imagine what else I'd be doing."

"It's important to be passionate about that kind of career," I say. "It involves shaping young peoples lives. Being part of their development in some of their most important years."

He swallows hard and says, "well no pressure then."

We lightly laugh at his exaggerated fear and he nudges me with his shoulder.

I say, "you know what I mean. You have to love what you do when it comes to being a teacher. It's so important."

He watches me while he speaks. "Someone once gave me a really good statement on teaching when I was starting out. They said, if a teacher never leaves their desk, they don't love their job anymore."

I've never thought of that before but it makes sense.

"If they spend the whole lesson at their desk, not getting up, not moving, not lending their help to the students, they shouldn't be teaching anymore. Being there for the students is the most crucial part of the job."

"Well, you are the sports teacher," I say, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'd imagine you'd have to be pretty over it if you were at a desk all day."

"My office is just another storage room at this point," he grins. "I do more admin work at home than at my desk."

I laugh. "I've noticed."

For the last week and a bit that I've been living with Nathan, I've seen him hunched over his laptop at the breakfast bar, late at night with the lights off and his hair a mess from the way he runs his hands through it all the time. I've noticed more than I want to if I'm being honest.

Mom clears her throat and we both look at her, for a moment, I forgot she was here. "So," she says. "What did you decide about Lydia."

"Yeah, she can go. What time will you bring her back to me?"

Mom thinks about it for a moment, her shoulders lifted. "After dinner?"

My eyes cut to Lydia, who doesn't look like she's listening but that's how she gets her little head full of secrets. I'm not sure I want to let mom have her for dinner after what happened the other week. Mom must sense the hesitation because she sighs.

"Lydia can choose what we eat."

"Sushi?!"

Mom smiles, cupping her chin. "Sure, baby."

At least she's getting the hint that I'm not putting up with her crossing boundaries.

Nathan and I get home and walk into a warm house, the fire still burning low. We take off our coats and hats in quiet and I slip out of the living room to change into some comfortable pants and a shirt. It feels weird to be here alone.

Even when Lydia is in bed, I know she's in the house. Right now, Nathan and I are alone.

When I come back to the living room, Nathan is sprawled on the sofa watching television. I lower myself onto the floor in front of the fire, intending to read. I should probably find something productive to do but it's the weekend, Lydia isn't here and the house is clean enough.

I look at the television and realize Nathan is watching Supernatural.

"You like this show?" I ask.

"It's not bad," he shrugs. "You used to watch this, right? I remember it being on sometimes."

"I love this show. Dean Winchester is so hot."

He lightly laughs.

"You kind of look like him."

Nathan's head snaps toward me, hearing the meaning in what I just said. Bold move, but I figured, what the hell? Nathan is hot and he does remind me of Dean Winchester. I might as well own it.

"Oh, come on," I say, cheeks a little warmer as I swipe my phone unlocked and stare at the home screen. "You know you're hot."

"Well thanks," he drawls in his deep voice. "Would you like me more if I spent my spare time hunting demons?"

"Spare time you reckon?" I lift a brow at him. "That shits a full time job."

"Dealing with demons usually is," he says, his teasing grin becomes a little more somber.

"Don't I know it."

We fall quiet, the conversation having become a bit too real. Nathan sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the sofa and gives me a soft smile before heading to the kitchen. He starts emptying the dishwasher, cleaning the bench tops and wiping the sink out. Without giving it much thought, I go and get the vacuum cleaner from the hall closet and bring it back to the living room.

"What are you doing?" Nathan asks.

Foot on the switch, I stare at him. "Vacuuming?"

He stands in front of me, looking down. "Why?"

"Because. . . I don't know. To help."

He doesn't take his eyes off me as he takes the vacuum pole from my hand and gestures at the spot I'd been sitting before. "You don't have to get up and clean just because I do."

"I have to pull my weight," I murmur, folding my arms.

"You do. You keep this place clean, you cook, you have a cool little girl who likes to help me with literally whatever the fuck I'm doing," he laughs. "I have no complaints. Things are fine the way they are. If I want you to do more, I'll let you know. With words, not with passive aggressive actions."

He takes the vacuum cleaner back to the hall and my phone starts to blip from the floor, so does Nathan's from the sofa. He comes back to get his phone but I've already opened the group message from Dallas and I immediately burst into a squeal when I see the title.

"The engagement video," Nathan mumbles. "Damn, about time. Took fucking ages."

"Put it on the television," I suggest, practically bouncing on the spot. His gaze rakes over me, his lips lifting at the corner. "What? I'm excited. Let's watch it on the TV."

"Yeah, I'll screen cast it."

He sorts it out and we both sit on the sofa, I'm so excited I can hardly sit still. That's my best friend and the love of her life. I got to watch their love blossom in high school and go from strangers, to friends to being so in love they couldn't keep their eyes off each other. I can't think of two people who deserve this kind of happiness more.

Nathan settles in close to me and puts his phone down as the TV screen comes to life. Drayton is holding the phone at arms length, Dallas curled into his side. It's night time but the patio is illuminated with lantern lights and candles.

"We're in Venice," Drayton tells the camera. "Venice, California, not Italy. I'm not that romantic."

Dallas watches him, her face lit up as if her man holds the entire world in the palm of his hand.

Drayton looks down at her. "I'm about to bend my woman over the patio railing," he says and Nathan tips his head back with disgruntled sigh.

Drayton puts the phone down and the screen fades to black. When it comes back the angle has changed, as well as the quality. It's a professional video from a few meters back. The angle changes again, showing us Dallas's face and then once more to show us Drayton's. Three different angles of their romantic scene.

"Drones perhaps," Nathan suggests. "Might be far enough out that she can't see them in the dark.

"Yeah," I agree, focused on the picture perfect scene before us. It's beautiful, enchanting, something straight from the movies. Drayton has never done anything by halves when it comes to Dallas.

He cups her chin, looking at her, his heart on his sleeve. "This is the resort we stayed in when we got suspended and ran off to California in High School."

Nathan huffs a light laugh from his nose. "Fuck, that pissed me off."

Drayton kisses Dallas. "This is the resort that I sat in after you left to go and do your CalArts tour. I sat in that room and thought about how fucking much I wanted to follow you. I wanted to be part of your experiences, I wanted to be close enough to visit, I wanted to pick you up from that campus for dinner and for the weekends. And I realized while I sat in that room, in this resort, that I was in love with you and I wanted to be part of your life for the rest of it."

Dallas' chin was quivering now and as Drayton got to his knee and reached into his pocket, she covered her face and started to sob.

"Dallas Ashley Bryan," he looks up at her, ring box open in one hand, his other hand rests on her butt. "Please be my wife. I'm not above begging. I will spend every single day on my knees in front of you. There's a lot I could do from down here and I'm willing to work for it."

Dallas drops her hands from her face, which is covered in tears, and looks at him like she can't believe he even has to ask. "As if I would ever say no."

Drayton stands up, sweeping her into his arms and they kiss. Dallas doesn't even look at the ring. She wraps her legs around his waist and holds onto him. The cameras fade to black and I wonder if that's because it got inappropriate super fast. It wouldn't surprise me.

Nathan looks at me then and I wipe at the tears slipping down my cheeks. Suddenly, I realize that I'm holding Nathan's hand. Squeezing it is more accurate.

"How cute are they?" I sniff, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand.

He watches me, not letting go of my hand. "Yeah, cute," he tilts his head, focus on me. "You're cuter though."

"Whatever."

"I like that their happiness makes you so emotional, it's sweet."

My stomach turns over on itself. The way Nathan tells me what's on his mind, whether it's to tease me or flirt or even if he's pissed off, at least I know what he's thinking most of the time. It's what I should do with that information that makes me uncertain.