Leila nods. “Okaaaaay. OK, well, surprise!” She hands out the burger cartons. “I bought you all a meat-free burger!”
“Meat-free?” Nate frowns.
Leila nods. “MEAT … free.”
“Right,” Nate says. “So, no meat?”
Leila fixes Nate with a meaningful stare. “We’re at a vegetarian festival, so this is meat, I repeat meat … free.”
Nate looks totally confused.
“It’s meat, Nate, it’s fully real meat, Leila’s just trying to be discreet,” I sigh.
Nate’s eyes light up and he’s got the thing in his mouth in next to no time. I manage a small smile as everyone else tucks in, but I’m feeling less enthusiastic about mine. I’m not hungry for some reason.
“Thanks so much for the MEAT-FREE burger,” Nate says, between mouthfuls.
“Thank Jack,” Leila replies. “His idea.”
Nate raises his eyebrows.
“He told me you’d be beside yourself with the food on offer here, and I had to pop to the nearest town anyway to pick up some more shampoo, so thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”
Nate nods at me, which I suppose means “thank you”.
“And this is dessert,” I say, holding up the Curly Wurlys. “Hope it cheers you up a bit?” And I flick my eyes to Elliot because, actually, it seems like Nate has found something to cheer him up now, so perhaps all this wasn’t necessary.
“You’re amazing,” Nate tells me.
“Uh-huh,” I reply. I sigh and look down at the ground.
“Are you OK, Jack?” Leila asks.
I glance back up at her. “Oh … yeah, I’m just… I think maybe I’m tired, that’s all. I might go back to the tent and rest for a bit.” I don’t know why, but I’m not really feeling any of this. I glance at Nate, and he’s staring at me, burger in hand, frozen in mid-chew. I swallow. “Nice?” I ask him.
He nods and starts chewing again.
“Good,” I say. I take my phone out and get Nate, with his cheeks full like a hamster, Elliot and Leila in the frame. I think I’ll sit this one out, but it’s too good not to post and you gotta maintain the illusion on social media. Top street food tonight with the boys. #Vegetarian #caring #loveanimals I caption it, even though some of the hashtags aren’t technically accurate.
The band start playing “Changes” by David Bowie and I feel like the only way the music could be any more of a metaphor would be if the song was “Why Does It Always Rain on Me?” by Travis, except why am I feeling like this and what the hell?
Thankfully, there’s no time for any further analysis of my messed-up head, because Nate suddenly says,
“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?”
And I follow his horrified stare across the crowds of people to where Mrs Nate is sitting on some guy’s shoulders, waving her arms in the air to this classic Bowie song, with a rainbow flag painted on her cheek and an open can of beer in her hand.
“Jack?” Nate says.
I turn back to him. “That’s your mum.”
“I know it’s my mum, Jack. What have you done?”
I blow out a breath. “What makes you think this has anything to do with—”
“Jack!” he interrupts. “My mother does not simply sit aloft some random dude’s shoulders at a festival without some kind of intervention from a third party. What have you done?”
“OK, so, I may have booked her a session with a yoga guru, but—”
“OK,” Nate says. “Please can you do something? I don’t care what, but this is … you’ve no idea, if this goes viral or something, if Auntie Karen gets to see it, she’ll call social services and have me and Rose taken away, I swear to god.”
“Why would it go viral?” I ask him.
“There are quite a lot of phones being waved about, to be fair,” Leila says.
“See!” Nate says.
“OK! OK, I’ll go and— I’ll…” And I back off, not sure exactly what it is I am going to do, but kind of thankful for an excuse to leave, and kind of thankful to have something else to think about. Because if you’re not in the middle of it, and you’re not thinking about it, then it’s almost as if it’s not real, not happening, and right now, that’s exactly what I need, because I’m not stupid, I know what the problem is, I just can’t figure out how it’s happened or what I’m supposed to do about it now.
Damn it to hell.
I like Nate.
I like him like him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
NATE
I turn my back on the horror that is my mum off her face and accidentally lock eyes with Elliot, who immediately looks straight down at his burger and continues eating.
Great. He’s feeling awkward. I’ve messed up.
I look at Leila, who gives me a sympathetic smile. “I bumped into your dad and little sister again,” she says. “She’s quite a character!”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, no, what did Rose say? Why are you saying she’s a ‘character’?”
Leila smiles. “She’s convinced you and Jack should be husbands.”
“Oh.”
“She’s asked if I want to be a bridesmaid. Just a regular one – she’s head bridesmaid, apparently.”
“Right. Well. No one’s being a bridesmaid, sorry to disappoint.”
I press my lips firmly together and glance over to where Jack is attempting to get my insane mother’s attention by jumping up in front of her and waving his arms about. Unfortunately, he just looks like all the other revellers around her, so I’m not sure it’s an effective technique.
“He’s certainly a loyal friend,” I hear Leila say.
I turn and see she’s looking at Jack too. She flicks her eyes to mine. “I know,” I smile. I look over at Jack again, who is now having some sort of shouty conversation with my mum. He’s standing on tiptoes, trying to get closer to her so she can hear him, and he’s looking pretty exasperated. It makes me smile. And she’s right. He is loyal. He’s a good friend. I’m happy to have him back.
Leila tugs at my T-shirt. “I haven’t mentioned this to Jack yet, because I
