Page 20 of Best I Never Had

I do, in fact. It’s a couple of blocks over and perfect for a night of wallowing in self-pity and heartbreak.

Me: Be there in 15?

Hayden: Give me about 30. It’ll take me some time to get there.

Me: I’ll save a seat for you.

With that, I grab my keys, leaving my still steamy Chinese food on the counter, and walk out of my apartment.

8

Hayden

senior year

I huffas I round the corner into fifth period, still annoyed that Jenny was yelling at me, throwing her hands in front of my face while accusing me of…I don’t even know what she was accusing me of.

She saw me and Tina laughing over some stupid joke about Madame Martin and how annoying her fake French accent sounded describing our homework assignment on verb conjugation. Once she got a glimpse of us impersonating the way Madame Martin flung her hands in the air when she added an extra flair to the word “chapeau,” Jenny started accusingly asking me if I thought Tina was cute, even though she’s one of her closest friends, while demanding to know why I was talking to her in the first place. Apparently, I’m not allowed to talk to girls, even if it’s school related.

This whole thing with Jenny is so pointless. I don’t even know how I ended up in this situation. With a girl who boldly assigned herself as my girlfriend and is now scolding me like my mom whenever I so much as look at another girl.

God, why are high school girls so fucking dramatic? When I slump my backpack onto the counter, Natalia jumps before she reaches up to remove her earphones.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

Her brows rise as she coils her earphones into a neat lasso. “Trouble in paradise?”

I turn toward her, the scowl on my face deepening.

“I saw you two arguing outside,” she adds, her attention focused on the front pouch of her backpack as she stows away her earphones.

“It’s nothing,” I answer, roughly flipping through the textbook in front of me while the pages flick in sharp whips from my angry hands.

“If you ever want to talk about it…” she offers, her voice trailing off as she lifts a shoulder. “I’m a vault.”

When I turn my scowl toward her, she mimes the motion of locking her lips with an imaginary key and tosses it over the edge of our table, along with a purse-lipped smile implying trust. My frown loosens, and the wound-up muscles of my jaw relax into a smile.

“We have a pop quiz, people.” Mr. Khan’s voice cuts through the class. His announcement is followed by collective groans and the shuffling of papers as Mr. Khan passes his quiz down the class.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

Her tight smile softens, and I lightly tap her arm with my pinky as Mr. Khan walks by, giving us a warningcough.

present

When I walk through the doors of Butter, I spot Natalia quickly. She’s slouched over the bar, a red-tinged drink already in her hand as she stares down at her phone. She’s still dressed in what looks like her work clothes, a slim pencil skirt with a collared blouse neatly tucked in high at her waist. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail, purposefully curled at the edges as it wisps around her nape with a thick strand of hair around the base securing her hair in a tight knot.

I don’t know why she texted me, taking me up on my offer for a friendly drink, but I’m thankful she did. It’s been a rough week, even though it’s only Wednesday, and I need something to get my mind off things. Personal things that I most likely won’t tell Natalia about but things I need to drown in alcohol, nonetheless.

“Is this seat taken?” I whisper, low and close to Natalia’s ear. She jumps suddenly as she turns to face me. And before she locks her phone and tucks it away into her purse, I can’t help but notice the shiny image of her and another man splayed across the screen. I pretend not to notice and flag down the bartender instead.

“Saved it just for you,” she says, her voice weary. She still manages to tap the round leather stool with a smile before I slide onto it and tuck my legs beneath the sticky bar top.

The bartender stops in front of me, nodding his head, silently requesting my order.

“I’ll have a Blue Moon,” I say before turning to Natalia. “What are you having?”

“Vodka with cranberry.”

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