Rise Like The Sun

CHAPTER FORTY

NICK

They've been avoiding each other like the plague, for a few days now and it's been killing Nick.

School passes annoyingly slowly and slightly painfully. Nick keeps his head down and out of trouble, as best he can. He's been spending time with his mates, playing football and going to game stores, but in the nights, he keeps reaching out for Madison. A crushing disappointment and pain wracks his chest when his arms find nothing.

"Are you alright, Nick?" his mother is asking, through the phone. "Are you sure? I could cancel everything – I could come back, tonight."

"Nah," Nick says tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck, as he pads to the kitchen barefoot. "You need this meeting, don't you? You have to stay there and show all those old white men that their money should really be yours." He adds, as an afterthought, "And mine, by extension."

His gaze drags unwillingly, as it always does, to the counter Madison liked to seat herself on, the one he'd have to lift her onto because she was always too short to lift herself.

"Of course," his mother says, as she chuckles warmly. The sound is sweet. "I sent you a present."

"Is it more money?"

His gaze turns to the living room, where on the table there sits a rather large box, wrapped in a pretty pink bow. Nick's lips quirk a little and he moves eagerly. He's not had a lot of presents in his life, so he knows how to appreciate one.

"Go have a look, you goblin," his mother laughs at him.

Nick tears into the box impatiently, ripping apart the paper and the ribbon as it floats to the table in a soft heap. His brows furrow together in confusion.

"I think you've mistaken me for a girl," he tells her, as he brings out a bottle of some funny-looking stuff. Nick gives it a tentative shake. "Is this body butter?"

"Body butter isn't just limited to one gender," his mother tells him. "I was buying some stuff for my spa sessions, and I figured, why can't my son enjoy a spa, too? Body butter keeps your body soft. If that thing you're shaking is lotion, you better stop shaking it."

Nick rummages through the box quizzically.

Truth be told, a gift is a gift, and he doesn't really care about the gender-specifics. He's curious. He's never been in a spa before, but he's seen stuff on the television before. Just random girls with their towels wrapped around their heads. Before, he'd have been interested to attend a spa, more than interested, maybe even asked the girl if she wanted help with the towel-wrapping, but he keeps thinking of Madison's soft smile.

"This stuff smells nice," he says. "It's called face scrub. What's it do?"

"Exfoliates your skin, keeps it soft and acne-free," she tells him.

"That's awesome," Nick tells her. "Why haven't I ever heard of this?"

"Because men like to make fun of everything women like," his mother says. "I'm raising you to be better."

"Uh-huh, sure," he says distractedly, continuing to look through the box, his fingers pulling out different bottles that promise different results.

"Ask your girlfriend to sort through the specifics with you," his mother tells him. "I've got to go, honey. I love you, bye."

"Wait, I don't have a –," Nick begins, before his mother cuts the call, and he ends up staring at the phone, his cheeks warm.

His gaze turns back to the box again and Nick wonders if he could call Madison. Truthfully, he misses her deeply, and he'd give anything to have the days turn back to how they used to. Nick can just imagine the burst of laughter the box would emit from Madison, the way they'd experiment with everything in the package. The thought of it brings a bittersweet ache to his heart.