Nash wanted to make it up to Lourde, and so the following morning found him waiting for her at the crack on sunrise. Like clockwork, he heard Lourde descend the stairs for her morning run. She arrived at the foot of the stair, wearing her signature loose workout shorts, and today, a black tank top.
"Nash!" She exclaimed, shrinking back.
"I didn't mean to spook you," Nash stood and held up two bottles of water. "I was hoping to join you for a run?"
"Don't you have school?" She caught the bottle that Nash tossed.
"I have time. Maybe we can go around the block a couple of times."
Lourde eyed him protractedly. "If you want to do this, we do it properly. No 'round the block' nonsense. Deal."
"Deal," Nash rattled timidly.
***
Lourde was true to her word and led Nash on a tour of the neighbourhood. Up through the hills that gave some of the best lookouts over the bay, and back down again.
And then they did a second loop. Nash didn't have time to take in the view or to say anything. He was too busy focusing on his breathing, of putting one foot in front of the other. It was exhilarating, intense, and arduous.
After the second loop, Nash was ready to collapse. Even Lourde was panting slightly and was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "Another loop?" she smiled.
"God no. That's it for me. Besides, I'm out of time."
"Quiter," she teased, stretching out one of her legs. Nash didn't even bother pretending not to admire her toned form.
"I've got you a present, by the way. Wait here." Nash rushed off, grabbed the parcel he'd bought the day before, and returned.
"Hair ties." Lourde accepted the gift.
"Yeah," Nash shuffled sheepishly. "You're always complaining about losing them, so I figured I'd buy you a whole bunch. I didn't know what colour you preferred so I got you fiery orange ones to match your eyes."
Nash was considering blabbering on some more when Lourde pulled him in for a hug. He was all too aware of his cheek resting against her sweaty neck.
"Thanks." she squeezed. " I love them."
"No problem. Nash inhaled.
The two of them entered the house to see Aisling and Nastasya having breakfast. Aisling moaned as Nash sat down and began wolfing down eggs.
"What's that for," Nastasya laughed.
"Just tired. Stayed up all night writing." Aisling yawned, and Nash eyed her suspiciously.
"I'm gonna grab a quick shower, and then we can ride to school together. Yeah?"
"Sure," Aisling smiled at him.
***
Nash had his drivers licence, and Nastasya herself drove to school. But he and Aisling preferred to ride to school. It had been somewhat of a tradition since childhood, and the bay was too beautiful to waste it by sitting in a car.
Besides, the town was small enough that a bike didn't feel like much of a disadvantage over a car. He'd had his wheel repaired last week after Monday's incident. Thankfully, Aisling didn't see the damage, so no awkward questions were asked.
"Fancy a race?" Aisling asked, slipping on her boots.
"What kind of person used 'fancy' like that?" Nash buttoned up his shirt. "And yes, I do fancy a race."
Thorne Academy was experimenting with what they called a semi-uniform. Students had to wear the pistachio green shirt, but could otherwise dress as they pleased. Aisling had paired it with a short canary-yellow skirt and dark leggings. Nash had just worn some dark blue jeans.
Their mom was a fashion designer, and she often stressed that half of the look was in getting the right fit. Nash had learnt how to get jeans that were form-fitting enough to look cool, but loose enough in the areas that mattered to be comfortable.
"Make sure to tell me what it's like," Aisling said.
"What's what like?"
"Losing!" And she was off, pedalling like a madwoman. Nash kicked off and tried to keep pace with her. She was taking the back way, Nash realised. One of the winding roads that looped around Thorne Bay. While technically a longer route, it avoided the middle of town. Fewer crossroads meant less stopping.
With the roads open, Nash could let loose. Aisling wasn't much into fitness, and despite her head start, he was closing the gap. He saw the opportunity for an overtake. A long, gradual curve to the left. He could take her on the outside. Nash engaged a higher gear, switched lanes and began pedalling as hard as he could.
A truck appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Just like the one that had hit him the previous week. Nash swerved. Hard. His shirt was violently ruffled by a wall of air as the truck roared past. He'd avoided the vehicle but was now facing entirely the wrong way. He careened into a field of hydrangeas, the flowers strawberry-red from the autumn chill.
Nash lay on his back, staring at the clear blue sky. All in all, it was a far less fatal crash than his last.
Aisling was by his side, saying something. She shook him back to reality. "Nash! Are you okay!"
"I'm fine," he pulled himself up by her offered hand and didn't let go. "One of those… almost hit me last week, too."
"It's those new driverless things. They're everywhere these days." Aisling's lip was curled in fury.
"Hey," he squeezed her hand, it felt right in his. "I'm fine. Honestly." Her gaze softened when it met his.
"Damnit." Aisling glanced up and down the road, there were no cars in sight. "We're alone, so I'm gonna be candid. I know I said no relationship. But when you walked in this morning, covered in sweat. I wanted to fuck you right their own the breakfast table."
Nash was taken aback, he didn't know what to say. He could feel himself flustering under her fervorous gaze. "And now look at you, what if something happened. What if."
She cut herself short, and tackled him with her mouth, dropping them both onto a bed of flowers. It wasn't a kiss, it was a taking of ownership. Her tongue went immediately for his mouth, and it felt so fucking right. Nash used his tongue to press hers there. As if to say 'this is where it belongs, don't you dare move it.'
They might have been there for a minute. Or two. Or ten. Before they were interrupted. It was by the voice of Pavla, accompanied hand in hand by Sandro.
"Are you guys okay? We saw your bikes on the side of the- oh."
Aisling pulled herself free with a squelch. "It's not what it looks like." A line of saliva connecting their mouths.
***
Nash was so embarrassed that he barely heard a word as Aisling tried to explain things to Pavla and Sandro. He barely heard her as he got back on his bike and rode to school. All day, he kept to himself. He didn't sit near or look at his sister or his two new friends.
His mind was ablaze with thoughts, and yet they were incoherent.
"Nash!" Nastasya slapped a ruler on his desk. "This is the third time telling you today. Pay attention." And then quieter, "Have you taken your meds?"
"Yeah. They don't help." His voice felt a million miles away.
"Then maybe you should go see her again." Nastasya frowned, and resumed her lesson, Nash had no idea what section they were doing. Maybe he should go, he was due an appointment anyway,
***
After school, Nash dragged himself to Dr Bellatrix Jain's clinic. A clinic that dealt directly with the kind of symptoms he had. He'd made an appointment, and before long he found himself sitting on the comfortable-but-uncomfortable red chair.
Dr Jain was an Indian woman in her thirties, and while she had the same cinnamon skin as the Inroh Island natives, her features were different. Her face was sharp and angular, except for her nose which was rounded and plump. Her hair was wavy, a look that she embraced and let hang in curls around her face.
"So, Nash Delaney. How's your ADHD treating you?" She had that firm kindness reserved for doctors and therapists.
"I have good days and bad," Nash found the words coming out before the thoughts did. "Some days it feels like I have no symptoms, and maybe I've been cured. Other days, like today, are very bad."
"What makes the symptoms worse?"
"Anxiety, I think? But sometimes I'll be in an intense situation, and everything clears up and I know just what to do. Just like how you said, we're better in the moment and bad at long term things. But other times, I'll just be overwhelmed. Everything gets too loud, and I just shut down. It's the only way I can cope without breaking down completely."
She paused to think. A clock ticked away on the wall. Why were clocks so loud?
"A few months ago you had a bad reaction during exams. Is there something that you may be reacting negatively to now?"
Nash sat forward slightly, restless, shuffling his feet and wringing hands. "Well, the school pressure's still there. But also…"
"Yes?" she urged him.
"There's a girl."
"Ah." Dr Jain smiled. "And things aren't going well?"
"I like her, and I think she likes me. She definitely likes me. But she doesn't want a relationship."
"Is that what you want? A serious relationship?"
"I don't know. We haven't really talked about it. I like being with her, and I'm very attracted to her. But there are some circumstances that make it awkward."
"What circumstances?"
"I'd rather not say."
"Well," Dr Jain adjusted her glasses. "I'm not exactly qualified to give out relationship advice. But perhaps there's a conflict because you both have a different idea of what a relationship is. Perhaps if you two had an honest conversation, that would clear the air?
"Maybe," Nash sank into his chair. "She doesn't really like to talk about it though."
"Communication is hard. Girls can sometimes feel vulnerable, and can be more subtle when trying to convey what they want."
"But I'm not subtle. I need things to be very clear or it won't penetrate my-" Nash waved at his head, "fogginess."
Dr Jain smiled, and scribbled something on her notepad. "What makes people wonderful is that we're complicated. You come here every month in an effort to understand yourself. If we struggle to understand ourselves, understanding others can seem monumental in comparison."
"So what should I do?"
Dr Jain shrugged. "People with ADHD are better in a crisis. Trust your gut. Now let's talk about your meds."
Dr Jain refilled Nash's prescription of ADHD meds. They were supposed to make things clearer, less loud, but Nash wasn't sure. The erraticness of his symptoms made it hard to judge if the medication was working or if he was just having a good day.
ADHD was apparently one of the most researched mental disorders, and yet he felt that he still barely understood it. Still, he'd have it for life, so he needed to find a way to cope.
***
Aisling avoided Nash all week. She kept to her room, rode to school on her own, and sat isolated. When Nash tried to engage with her, she quickly moved away. If he was handling things poorly, she was handling them worse.
Pavla and Sandro hadn't said much either. Nash wasn't quite sure how they felt about the situation, but it was clear that they too were increasingly worried about Aisling's condition. And so on Friday evening, after a busy shift at Yuya's, Nash couldn't take it anymore. He had to speak to somebody about what happened, and Pavla was there.
"We need to talk about what happened." Nash was packing clean plates away, his back turned on Pavla. Pavla and Sandro had chosen to handle the situation by pretending it had never happened. They still hung out with Nash, joked around, and had fun. But not once did they say anything about having caught him and Aisling with their hands and mouths all over each other.
"Well, Sandro and I spoke about it," Pavla began to pace around the empty diner, "and it's not our place to judge. Lord knows we have kind of an unusual relationship anyway."
Nash let out a sigh of relief, then frowned. "What do you mean you have an unusual relationship?"
"That doesn't matter right now!" she raised her hands in protest. "What matters is that we're fine with whatever you two have going on."
Nash began wiping down the bar. Yuya had gone home for the night and had trusted them to clean up and close down properly.
"Well, she's not talking to me. You're her best friend, aren't you? Can't you get her to open up?"
Pavla sat down at the bar opposite Nash and placed her hands on the table. Nash would never do anything to come in between her and Sandro's relationship, but he had to admit she was very pretty. Everything about her was delicate, her frame, her face, the tiny stud she wore on one ear and the beaded bracelets on her arms.
"For someone who likes words so much, she doesn't like talking about her feelings," Pavla waved a hand in the air as she explained. "Not directly, anyway."
"What are you getting at?" Nash took out two beers from the fridge.
"We get her to play D&D tomorrow, and then we gently ease her conscience." Pavla smiled.
"Pavla, you're a genius!" Nash shook her by her shoulders. Her hair fell into her eyes, and she deftly brushed it behind an ear.
"I know," she smirked, took a beer, and popped it open with her eye socket. She was a quiet badass, and Nash was starting to grow fond of her.
###