Happiness

As the makeup artist placed the final touches on my face, all I could do was smile as Lily peppered me with questions about the night before. Finally, I confessed everything to her which didn't seem to surprise her much. I guess, I had to add mind reader to the many jobs she fulfilled.

As we giggled like school girls, a crew member came over and told us they were ready. I wore an oversized, white, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows with no bra underneath and only underwear on the bottom. The photographer pointed to the spot where he wanted me to stand, then motioned for me to move one side of my shirt down off my shoulder to expose more skin. I held my guitar purposefully in front of my underwear so only my bare legs showed.

"The perfect shot is all about the illusion," the photographer said.

The wind machine sat in front of me, blowing my hair just so. The cool breeze calmed my nerves as this was the sexiest photoshoot I had ever done. Just the fact that I knew Nate hadn't just discarded me to the side, like I previously thought all those years ago, made me feel lighter, more care-free, and less stressed about everything, including being half-naked in front of a room full of strangers.

When I arrived home, I swung by the main house to check on my father. Still all glam from the shoot but with appropriate clothes on, I saw my dad reading a book in the library. I popped my head in and told him I was home.

He glanced up from his book.

"Don't you look beautiful, honey," he said proudly.

"Thanks!"

"How was the shoot?" he asked.

"Fun," I quickly responded, realizing I felt happy, really happy as my smile permeated every part of my being. My father could not help but notice.

"Was that Nate I saw leaving the studio last night?" he said, glancing down nonchalantly at his book, like he was about to read again.

My smile disappeared at the thought of him noticing Reed, then Nate leaving my personal oasis.

My face turned bright red.

"Like I said, it's none of my business. I'm just glad you're still living here," he declared with a loving smile.

"Thanks, dad."

As I walked out of the library, I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I forgot to switch my ringer back on after I left the shoot. I retrieved my phone and glanced down.

It was a text from Nate:

You want to meet me at the Q Go-Karts at 6?

I quickly replied:

Sounds good!

There was no hesitation. I wanted to see Nate again.

I pulled into the busy, go-kart parking lot and found one of the last available spots. Before getting out of the car, I looked at myself in the rear-view mirror. My hair was tied back in a ponytail with a baseball cap covering my head. I also wore large, black sunglasses to disguise myself from anyone who might've recognized me.

Nate greeted me at my door as I got out of the car.

"You look great" he said with a grin.

He leaned in and gave me a warmer hug than the awkward one the night before.

"Thanks, you do, too," I smiled back nervously.

After we bought tickets, Nate and I headed over and joined the fairly, substantial line at the track.

"Do you remember the last time we did this?" I asked.

"When I beat you so badly, then you..."he said before I interrupted.

"You totally bumped my car. Remember, rule number one, NO CONTACT. You were totally disqualified," I said emphatically.

"Excuses, excuses," he said playfully tapping my arm softly like the good-old days until he realized he might've overstepped. He placed his hand back down.

I didn't mind his touch.

When we were finally seated side by side in our individual karts, we both placed our seatbelts on. He motioned with his fingers, pointing at his eyes then at mine, signaling he had me in his sights on the race track.

"You'll only see the back of my head," I shouted back.

I grinned as the attendant dropped the flag and the green light flashed on. We were off to the races.

All I remember was gunning it, pushing the pedal so hard my foot hurt. I left Nate in the dust until the last lap when I felt his presence hovering right behind me. I tried to go faster, but there wasn't anything I could do. He moved his car beside mine, and tried to pass me with his signature move, trying to illegally bump my car just a tad. This time, I was ready and avoided the contact. A few seconds later, he fell back behind me just as we crossed the finish line.

As we were waved off the race track, I wondered if I had really beaten Nate or if he had conveniently fallen behind in the last seconds of the race. His lackluster effort was suspect from his usual relentless self when it came to competitions where the two of us were pitted against one another.

It didn't matter if he did throw it or not, I was the winner. After celebrating the victory and rubbing the win in his face, he told me that the winner had to choose what we did next.

I immediately knew where the next stop would be.

When visiting Nashville, a person needed to experience hot chicken for themselves. We walked across the street to Roy's Flaming Chicken and sat outside on one of the picnic tables with a few baskets of chicken in front of us. I made sure all of the various degrees of the heat index were represented.

Nate was reluctant to try even the mildest of baskets they offered.

"What would you tell your freshman football players? Would you tell them it was fine to just give up before even attempting a new play?" I said, trying to guilt him into eating the chicken.

"Unfair," he shook his head, "but fine, I'll give it a try as long as you try it, too," he said picking up a piece of chicken from one of the baskets.

I did the same, chicken for chicken, as we took a bite at the same time. As he slowly chewed the hot tender, his face went from somewhat pleasant to pain. He dropped the chicken and reached for his ice water.

"Hot, very hot," he said, trying hard to wash his mouth out with the cold water.

I could only take a few more bites than him, then I dropped my chicken as well.

"It is hot," I replied as I reached for my water.

I started to laugh at the sight of us sweating over the hot food as I choked back water to relieve the pain and burning on my tongue. As my mouth started to feel better, I caught Nate staring at me.

"What?" I hesitantly asked.

"This is what I've missed the most," he confessed as he looked in my eyes.

Silence fell over our table as I placed my water down and wiped my hands with a napkin.

"We should probably get going," I said changing the subject.

I stood up and grabbed the half-eaten, chicken baskets and started to walk towards the trash.

Nate's honesty was a bit too much too soon for one girl to handle at that exact moment.

Nate convinced me to go back to his hotel and have a drink at the bar with him. When I walked in and saw the almost empty bar, I was relieved at the thought there would be no paparazzi or fans who might be in sight.

We sat at the bar and casually drank a beer as I tried making small talk about the must-see spots in the downtown area. As I spoke, I knew Nate was distracted, because he just kept nodding his head without adding to the conversation.

Then, he all of a sudden, he turned to me.

"I sometimes wonder what would've happened if my mom didn't put me in that football camp?" he blurted out.

"We probably would be living in the treehouse," I said lightheartedly as he laughed at my quick response.

"We would've had to change the wall color," he declared.

"What? I thought you liked the yellow?"

He smiled and simply shook his head.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" I asked.

"You liked it," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"So?" I asked.

"So? I liked seeing you happy," he confessed.

We stared at one another for a second until he retreated and sat forward again.

"Anyway..." his voice trailed off as he took a sip of his beer.

I glanced down at the bar, perplexed on what just transpired, then I noticed my watch and the time.

"I actually should be going. I have another early morning," I said grabbing my phone.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked with hope in his voice.

"Sure, my place at 7?" I said freely without hesitation, surprising even me, as I added, "We could order out?"

"Sounds like a plan," he nodded.

As I walked out of the bar, I was beginning to wonder if I knew what I was really doing. At that moment, I didn't really care.

All I could see were cameras as I parked my Jeep in front of the coffee shop and got out of the car. I wore my large sunglasses and tried covering my face slightly with my arm.

"Nicky, Nicky, over here," shouted the paparazzi, "How do you feel about all the album success?"

I quickly walked towards the coffee shop then turned back.

"Great," I replied flashing a smile for the cameras.

When I entered the coffee shop, I was relieved to escape the craziness outside. I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head and looked for Lily in our usual spot next to the window, but she was nowhere to be found. I scanned the room and found her waving her hand in the air in the far back corner away from any flashbulbs or glaring eyes.

"Sorry, I tried to warn you, but you weren't picking up your phone or answering any of my texts," she said to me as I approached the table.

I realized my phone was on silent again, like usual. I apologized for my phone etiquette and promised I would do better with keeping the lines of communication open at all times.

"This is going to get worse," she pointed outside at the circus like atmosphere. "I mean, it's great for your career, but you just have to be careful," she said as my friend, advisor, and protector.

"How did they even know I was coming here?" I asked somewhat naively.

Lily glanced over at me with an expression on her face like, "Are you kidding me?"

"We come here every Saturday morning. They obviously followed you," she said adamantly.

"That's just creepy. People following me, like some kind of stalker. I mean, Nate and I went go-karting last night and no one saw us, but I was still uneasy thinking people were lurking behind me," I said.

"Wait, what? I thought you went to his hotel bar?" she questioned.

"Yeah, after we went go-karting and got some hot chicken," I said, replaying the non-date in my head.

"You went to get chicken, too? OMG Nicky, you are seriously going to give me a heart attack," she said all animated while holding her hand to her chest.

I told her to calm down and just take it easy, everything would be fine. She quickly reassured me everything would be fine if I didn't go gallivanting around town without any sort of discretion.

"The album has skyrocketed. You're in a different league now and can't make mistakes," she said, reiterating her slight disapproval of my activities the night before.

"Ok, I get it. I have to be careful," I said appeasing Lily while nonchalantly sipping on coffee she so nicely purchased for me before I arrived.

Lily moved on from the conversation, knowing her point barely got across to me. She continued on, discussing my schedule for the following two weeks and how jammed pack it was. She asked if my head was going to be back in the game once Nate left to go back home to North Carolina.

I deflected, not really answering Lily's question. I realized I hadn't really thought about what would happen after Nate left and a wave of nausea immediately came over me.