Chapter Fourteen

“I’ll get your backpack for you, okay?” Nick offers, leaning into the car to pick it up as I head towards the hotel lobby. I nod, handing him the credit card key, and he leans down to kiss me tenderly on the lips.

“What was that for?”

“I just wanted to thank you for making this trip with me, I know it’s not your first choice or anything, but you’re doing this for me, and don’t think I don’t know it. I know the only way you’d ever make this trip is if it were for someone you love. And I love you too.”

“Aww, Nick. If you don’t watch out, I’ll start crying.” I feel a goofy-looking smile coming on, so I quickly turn my head to the side and look off into the distance.

“Okay, go get your chap stick, or whatever it was you wanted to get, and then get your butt back into the room.”

“I will,” I say it shyly for some reason, and slowly wander off to my destination.

I glance back once, but Nick’s already closed the door so I can’t see him.

The air conditioning in the small store adjoining the lobby is an instant relief from the blazing sun outside, and I shiver as soon as the cool breath of a ceiling fan touches my skin.

I glance over the magazine rack. Though there are no pictures of Nick to be seen, the headline on the top of People Magazine reads, “Backstreet Boy takes leave of absence.” I wonder how Nick is so immune to everything said about him.

Even the good things. He ignores compliments along with the insults. He once told me that compliments from people he didn’t know were just insults in disguise. He never explained why.

Unable to find the moisturizer I was looking for, I settle for the closest thing and walk up to the register. A display of condoms catches my attention, and after a quick pause, I self consciously reach for the first package I see.

On the way back to the room, I skip a couple steps, just thinking about how great life is. In a moment of bliss, I laugh out loud and my shoulder moves up and I rest my cheek on it bashfully.

I am about to knock on the door when I notice it’s slightly adjar. I push it open and slide in.

It takes a couple moments for my eyes to adjust to the dark hotel room, and as soon they do, I see that Nick is sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, obviously distraught.

“Nick?”

He looks up, but doesn’t say anything. His eyes are dull and his mouth is pulled into a straight line.

“What’s going on, Nick?”

“I carried your back pack in, Amber.”

“I know you did, thank you.”

“It rang, Amber.”

“What?”

“Your bag rang.”

“Oh...” I finally pick up what he’s getting at.

He holds his cell phone out to me. “I found this.”

“Nick, I can explain...”

“Amber, I don’t even want to hear it.”

“But Nick, I was worried, I wanted us to be able to get help if we needed it. I wanted people to have some way to reach us...”

“Amber. I said I wasn’t going to bring the phone. That was a decision I made. And you went behind my back and did exactly what I told you not to do.”

“Nick, I’m sorry. It just seemed like it was the best thing to do at the time.”

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you? I wouldn’t do that to my family, just leave without a word. I’ve been calling them once a week.”

“From where?”

“Gas stations, mostly.”

“Nick, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You shouldn’t have to know. You should trust me to do the right thing.”

His eyes are filled with disappointment and I completely hate myself. I drop the small plastic bag on the floor and fall on the bed next to him.

I’m a child again and all I want to do is please him and make him love me again.

“I screwed up.”

“I know.” Nick turns his hips to face me. “I don’t even know what to say without yelling. I’m just really... angry, Amber. And confused.”

I feel the tears burning in my eyes, blurring my vision, and I know if I start crying I won’t stop. Because I miss my apartment and my life and my friends and I want to go home, but more than anything I want Nick to forgive me.

And I’m fighting back the tears because I don’t want him to forgive me out of pity. I don’t want to be the pathetic kid and cry my eyes out and make him feel bad for making me cry.

I screwed up.

Nick didn’t.

I’m almost angry at Nick for being so calm and rational about the whole thing. I want him to flip out and curse and brood so I’m not the only bad guy.

Is this what our relationship has taught me? Fights are okay as long as you’re not ‘the bad guy?’

It’s always me who plays the victim. Nick flys out of control and I’m the poor little girl with the temperamental boyfriend who just wants to be loved.

And Nick won’t let me do that this time.

The shit’s all on me and I can’t take it.

“Listen, Nick...”

“Amber, I don’t hate you, I just need to think about this, and figure this out. I know you meant well. Let me run this through my head.”

“Okay.”

“And Amber?”

“Yes?”

“My mother says she wants to meet you.”