OK, so where do people get off asking this question? My god, I want to cancel Karen so badly.
Nate shakes his head, pushing a piece of carrot around his bowl.
But Karen isn’t giving up. “Really? I find that surprising, sixteen years old and no girlfriend. Jonty got together with Alice when they were fourteen, and they’re still together now.”
“No, I’m single,” Nate mutters.
“Haven’t got your eye on anyone?”
I mean, this woman really is not giving up.
“You’re not a bad-looking lad—”
Seriously? She actually said that?
“I’m sure there’s a young lady out there somewhere for you—”
Nate looks like he’s about cry. I can’t let this carry on. “Actually!” I say. “Nate, Elliot and I are all single and we’ve all had it up to here with love and romance. We’re over it. Nothing but trouble. People only let you down in the end, and like the words of wisdom on your wall say—” I point at the wall. “Give up. Stay angry.”
“No, that’s never give up. Never stay angry,” Karen says.
“Oh,” I say. “That’s confusing. All the words are so jumbled up and next to each other. I thought the ‘never’ was connected to the words below it: Never keep your promise.”
Karen scowls at me. “That’s just, Keep your promise.”
“Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.” I stretch and yawn. “I’m bushed. Time to cosy down with the other farmyard animals, boys. Karen, is it permitted to use your bathroom, or should I just go in the middle of a field?”
Karen narrows her eyes. “It’s up the stairs, first on the right.”
“Awesome.” I beat my fist on my chest. “Live, laugh, love, everyone!” and head out to find the bathroom.
Helpfully, the bathroom is also decked out with words on the wall, which is good because if it wasn’t for the “Shower, enjoy, relax, clean, bathe, tranquillity” how would I know what to do in there?
Truth is, I feel bad for Nate, and I feel bad for how I was with him earlier on this trip, at the cabin, and the Travel Inn, when I accused him of not telling people he was gay. Just because I guess I make it look easy, doesn’t mean it is for him. And also, it’s no one’s business but his. God, what if Karen’s continuing her interrogation right now? What if poor Nate’s cracking under the pressure? I send him a text, just to let him know he’s got this, and what better than one of the many quotes on Karen’s bathroom wall:
Walk like a champion.
Moments later, Nate replies with,
I swear to god, go fuck yourself.
I chuckle, because any response but especially that sort of response means he’s probably OK and there’s only a small chance he’s furious with me for behaving like I did in front of Karen.
I’m walking along the landing towards the stairs when I hear voices. It’s Mr and Mrs Nate, having a hissed conversation by the door to their bedroom.
“I don’t know, Mick,” Mrs Nate is saying. “She just always makes me feel so bad about myself.”
“Well, don’t let her!” Mr Nate replies.
“It’s always a competition!” Mrs Nate continues. “She always has to prove how much more money they have, or how their house is bigger, their kids more successful!”
“Is all this because she’s going on a cruise?”
“No, Mick, it’s not because she’s going on a cruise, it’s … well, it’s bloody everything, isn’t it?”
And then I hear the door slam, and Mr Nate sigh heavily.
When I get down to the barn, Nate has already got my sleeping bag out and set it up next to his, with Elliot on his other side. “I got your sleeping bag ready,” he says to me.
A smile creeps across my face at his cute little way of being grateful. “Thanks, Nate.”
He gives me a small, slightly shy smile back, then sighs and says, “I know I should have told her I was gay.”
“Hey,” I say. “What you do or don’t tell people is entirely up to you. And I was wrong to suggest otherwise, so I’m sorry.”
Nate’s eyes widen.
“Also, no way would I want to come out to that utter passive-aggressive bitch – why does your mum put up with it? Literally, her sister is a monster.”
“She’s always been like that. Always trying to show us how much better she and her family are compared to ours.”
I nod. “Trust me, no one who has to have ‘laugh loud’ written on their kitchen wall is ever doing any laughing, and if you’re going to have ‘shower’ and ‘bathe’ written on your bathroom wall, then why not ‘urinate’ and ‘evacuate your bowels’?”
Nate and Elliot both laugh.
“Well, it’s OK, I added them,” I say.
Nate turns to me, deadly serious. “Oh god, please say you didn’t.”
I give him a little wink. “Night, night, sleep tight, hope all the fleas and ticks in this rank barn don’t bite!”
Nate scowls, pads over to the light switch, and flicks it off. I hear him stumble through the straw, back to our little camp, and get in his sleeping bag, doing a hell of a lot of huffing and puffing.
“Jack?” he says. “You didn’t?”
“I’m asleep.”
“Jack? I won’t sleep unless you tell me. I know you didn’t, but I need you to say it.”
“OK, then. I didn’t.”
There’s silence for a bit. I can almost hear his mind ticking over. “Argh!” Nate growls. “That makes it sound like you’re just saying that now!”
Elliot and I both chuckle.
“OK, something else,” Nate says. “That story you told Rose on the way here? About the prince and the ogre? Was that supposed to be about us?”
“Oh! Ho, ho!” I laugh. “Someone is clearly going to get a top grade in GCSE English!”
“Shut up, Jack.”
“Shut yourself up!”
“I actually hate you.”
“Oooooh!” Elliot coos. “Now, now, boys!”
“Nate, is it that you need a hug?” I say.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” Nate replies, with a real edge to his voice.
Nobody says a word, but Nate is clearly restless, and after a bit he growls, “Jack!
