Chapter 7
Wednesday, in the early afternoon, Nash and I were stretched out in the grass at the Jeanne Mance park, by the Mount Royal. We were near the soccer field, under a tree—our usual spot.
“I messed up my guacamole, didn’t I?” Nash asked, out of the blue. We’d been silent in the last minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts.
“No, it was really good, I’m just not that hungry.” I usually devoured our cold lunches in a matter of minutes, while Nash nibbled on crackers and sipped iced coffee, but in the last days, I’d lost my appetite. Damn butterflies. I couldn’t control these little surges of excitement I’d get every once in a while. I kept thinking of Lei on and off. He was so my type! And yes, I was attracted to him. But was he straight? I couldn’t ask Lou, because if he was indeed
