Without thinking, I change direction. I walk back up the stairs, taking two at a time while finding it oddly coincidental that I’m at the station closest to her apartment.
“Well,then,” I call a little breathlessly as I pick up my steps. “I’m glad you’re holding up your end of the deal.”
“I guess I am,” she answers quietly.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, evening my breaths as I round the corner to where Natalia’s brownstone sits. The sidewalks are thankfully empty, making it easier to maneuver around.
“It’s ten o’clock at night,” she answers.
“Actually, it’s 10:27,” I say, checking the time while remembering the lie I told Lena about my early morning. “But people get hungry at all hours of the day. And night.”
I finally reach her apartment, coming to a stop at the steps leading up to her door.
“I guess you have a point,” she says. “In that case, I’m starving.”
I look up at the fourth floor. The window looking into her apartment is lit. A small shadow of light cascades out onto the fire escape surrounding the windows. I can’t see her, but I can practically picture her up there, messy hair and swimming in an oversized sweater.
“Good. Cause I am too.”
“How is that a good thing? You’re all the way across the bridge.”
“Or I’m downstairs.”
17
Hayden
present
When I hearthe click of Natalia’s door, the heavy double doors leading up to her building creaking and straining, I see Natalia walk through. She’s exactly how I imagined. The mess of her wavy hair is piled on top of her head, with a fringe of curls trailing down her nape. Her small body is practically enveloped by the oversized hoodie she’s wearing with a tweed coat draped over her shoulders. She sticks her arms through the sleeves as she carefully walks down the steps before coming to a stop with a light hop in front of me.
While I expect some sharp, witty comment to leave her mouth, something about how my late-night escapades resulted in this impromptu snack hankering, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she smiles sheepishly as she wiggles her fingers in front of her.
“Hi,” she whispers shyly, which I find completely adorable.
“Hey,” I say back. And then, she full-on laughs. “What’s so funny?”
“Just that…you’re here.” Her hand, half covered by the sleeve of her jacket, comes up to cover her mouth.
“Well, you called.”
“I didn’t think you’d show up,” she says through her smile, and her nose does that little dip again.
“You know the tip of your nose twitches when you smile?”
“It does?” Her eyes cross, trying to look at her nose.
“Yeah.” I laugh and pinch her nose between my fingers. “It always has.”
She pulls my hand away and tugs on my thumb. “What are you even doing here?”
“I, uh…” My voice trails, and I awkwardly shuffle my feet. “I had a date. At a bar a couple of blocks down,” I confess.
Her smile fades almost instantly. She leans backward in a way that looks as though she’s examining me, stretching her neck to the side to get a better look at my face as her hands grip my shoulders. Her cold fingers move to my chin, tugging it side to side before a hum of disapproval purrs through her closed mouth.
“What?”
Her lips form a firm line as she squints her eyes. “I’m checking to make sure that your date cleaned up her seat properly after using it.”