He and Tiny walked across the park to the West Side.
They walked quietly, not saying much, just coexisting in comfortable silence. It was always comfortable with Tiny.
Nathaniel didn’t feel like going home. Tobias had been packing for college all week, and the apartment was covered with suitcases, clothes, books, and all kinds of gadgets. There was no room for Nathaniel. Every time he was there, he felt like he was in the way or in the process of being crowded out.
He was happy for his brother, in theory. Tobias was smart and worked hard. It was just that he kind of got everything he wanted. He nailed every conceivable academic achievement. His parents worshipped everything he said and did. It was a little hard to compete. He felt like a carbon copy of his older brother—almost the same, but not quite as good.
He wondered what life would be like when Tobias was at college. Would he have to work twice as hard for their attention? He couldn’t help but be afraid that unless he was Tobias, they just wouldn’t care that Nathaniel was still right there.
It wasn’t just his parents who he was worried about. He stole a glance at Tiny, walking next to him.
Things were changing, whether he wanted them to or not. He felt . . . things.
It was just . . . he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure how.
But he thought about how Tobias always said that sometimes you have to take a risk, even if the odds are stacked against you. If you don’t experiment, the answer will always be no.
The day was hot and humid, and he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. He was sweating for other reasons too.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself,” said Tiny.
“So there’s this natural disaster movie film fest at IFC next weekend.”
“Cool,” said Tiny. “Are they showing Twister? Nothing is as good as Twister.”
“They are, indeed, showing Twister!” Nathaniel’s heart had migrated up behind his eyeballs, and he became momentarily blind from nerves. “Want to go?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Tiny. “Obviously. What else are they playing?” Nathaniel’s heart now popped happily in his brain. “Luella is going to be so excited. Are they playing Armageddon? That’s her favorite.”
The pieces of Nathaniel’s deflated heart sunk back down to his chest.
“Armageddon is not even a disaster movie,” he said. “It’s a space movie.”
“It is so a disaster movie. Are you kidding?”
“Well, they’re not playing it. Sorry.”
“Fine,” Tiny said. “Jeez. Why are you being weird?”
But while she was talking, a new fear was blooming in Nathaniel’s brain. Suddenly he wasn’t as scared of asking Tiny out. Suddenly he was more worried that once high school started, they wouldn’t stay friends at all.
“Because I am weird,” Nathaniel said. “This is how I am. I’m just being me.”
Heat lightning simmered in the distance.
“I don’t know. Maybe if you think I’m so weird, we shouldn’t even be friends anymore.”
“Stop,” Tiny said. “That’s not what I meant.” She exhaled loudly. “Besides, it’s not like I’m so normal, or whatever.”
But she was. At least, compared to him. And now the seed was planted in his head. Was he weird? Was it normal to be so obsessed with facts and hard science?
He thought about those charges colliding up in the sky, the necessary conditions for lightning. He realized it was true: nothing can stay the same; it went against every law of physics. Things were already in motion. And an object in motion stays in motion. It was just the way the world worked. It was just science.