Title: Good Enough
Chapter 5
*****
I've been avoiding Greg for two days. Usually, I can suck it up and talk to him at work. But ever since his visit to my place the other day, I've been a nervous wreck every time I see him. And to make things worse, I'm pretty sure Greg has been avoiding me, too.
I had to find out from Sara that the DNA from the soda bottle we found at the scene was not a match to Daniel Kincaid.
Cody Briers' dad confirmed that his son was in the house when he arrived home from work at 8:30 the night Daniel Kincaid died. Even so, we asked Cody to come down and give us a sample of his DNA. Not that it would prove much. We know he was in the house. So, Mr. Briers brought his son in. As it turns out, he has the same sunny disposition as his wife.
I can't help but notice how unhappy Cody Briers seems to be. I don't know. Maybe I'm projecting. It's just that he reminds me so much of myself as a teenager. His mom and dad are too much like my folks for comfort.
I should probably stop overanalyzing the situation with Cody. I should concentrate on the victim.
Speaking of dads, mine called and read me the riot act for hanging up on my mom. I apologized like a good son, and then listened to my dad tell me all about my sisters and their wonderful lives.
Sometimes I don't know why I bother.
Letting out a breath, I step into the lab. "Hey, Greg," I say.
Greg flinches slightly, startled. "Hey, Nick." He keeps his eyes glued to the counter.
"Do you have the results back on that DNA?"
Greg darts his eyes up, and then quickly turns his back to me. He snatches a paper from the table beside him, spins back around, and hands the paper to me. "No match."
"So," I say awkwardly. "Daniel's parents said he didn't get much company."
"Well, he had some company at some point. That DNA doesn't match anyone I've tested."
Greg leans against the counter, shifting uncomfortably. Great. Now he's jumpy around me. Before he left my place the other day, Greg was being pretty cryptic. Said something about having "theories" about why I act weird around him. He must've figured out how I feel about him. Damn. This I do not need.
"Nick," Greg says suddenly.
"Yeah?"
He licks his lips and crosses his arms. "I, uh, I wanted to talk."
My muscles tense. "About what?"
"The other night."
No. No. No. "What about it?"
At that point, Warrick walks in. "Hey, Nick," he says. Turning to Greg, he says, "Got something for me, Sanders?"
Greg looks like he's going to be sick. "No. No, I'm on it." He glances at me, and then starts processing Warrick's evidence.
Warrick narrows his eyes at me. "No offense, Nick. But you look terrible."
"Thanks, man," I say.
"You all right?"
I exhale. "Why the hell do people keep asking me that?"
He crosses his arms. "Because you've been out of it for weeks."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I know perfectly well what he means. I've been losing my grip, and people are starting to notice.
"It means you've been walking around in a fog. It means you've been snapping at people." He frowns. "I heard you snapped at a tech today."
"He's never snapped at me," Greg says over his shoulder.
Warrick smiles. "There are other techs, Greg."
Greg turns around. "Nick, you've been cheating on me with another tech?" Almost as soon as the words come out of his mouth, a look of panic washes across Greg's face. He turns his back to me.
Well, that confirms my suspicions. Greg knows how I feel about him, and he's freaked out about it.
I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Swallowing, I say, "I didn't snap at anyone. We had a slight disagreement."
Warrick nods. "A slight disagreement that ended with you telling the guy he's an incompetent."
I look down at the ground. "It slipped out."
I chance a look at Greg, who still has his back to me. I don't know what I'm going to do now. How can I ever face him again? I can't stand to see that disgusted look on his face.
"Well, you've had 'slight disagreements' with other people, Nick."
I look up. "What?"
Warrick is staring at me. "Now, see. That is what I'm talking about. People talk to you, and you just space out on them."
I shake my head, trying to snap myself back to reality. "I was thinking about something."
Greg has turned back around, and now he's staring at me, too.
"This just isn't like you," Warrick says.
I laugh bitterly. "This isn't like me? What the hell do you know?"
Warrick takes a step toward me. 'Look, Nick—"
I plunge on. "Maybe this is exactly like me. Maybe I'm not one hundred percent perfect, like everyone thinks." I'm shaking now, and my breath is haggard.
Clenching my jaw, I turn and bolt out of the room, and run headlong into Grissom.
Grissom reaches out and places one hand on each shoulder, steadying me. "Whoa," he says. He looks over my shoulder at Warrick, who has followed me out of the lab. "Is something wrong?"
Warrick sighs. "No," he says. Then he looks at me, as if to tell me our conversation isn't over.
Grissom narrows his eyes at me. "Is everything okay, Nicky?"
No, Gris, I think to myself. I hardly sleep. I can't measure up to anyone's expectations of me. Not yours. Not my parents. I'm slipping up at my job. And the icing on top of the whole mess is I'm in love with my male best friend, who's freaking about it.
Yeah," I say. "Everything's one hundred percent."