Page 55 of Best I Never Had

When we slump back into our seats, weak from our hysterical fits of laughter, I clutch onto Hayden’s arm. “Please don’teverdo that again,” I beg, wiping the tears from the corner of my eyes.

“What?!” he exclaims. “We still have two more songs on the list. Plus a very promising Carrie Underwood duet. Something about a baseball bat and leather seats.”

“No, no,” I say, waving my hands in front of him. “You’re cut off. No one should ever give you an amp.”

Hayden’s mouth drops open as if to sayhow dare youbefore he sits in the seat next to mine. Instead of squawking through more songs about breakups and revenge, we open a tab while tallying up glasses of beer and cocktails. Our lingering laughter dies down to a comfortable silence as the bar continues to fill with more people and the music grows louder.

A man appears from the crowd and takes the stage rather confidently. He starts singing the smooth tunes of “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran, sounding very close to Ed Sheeran himself with his low, sultry voice before smiling modestly toward a small table full of people cheering him on. I turn to look at Hayden, the gratitude shining off every surface of my face.

“Thanks, Hayden.”

His face is turned toward the singer when I voice my appreciation. For everything he did to make me forget, even for a moment. Instead of turning to face me, he continues to stare at the singer, making me think that he didn’t hear me over the music. But then he reaches over and covers my hand with his, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

21

Hayden

senior year

“I hate high school,”Natalia says with a pout.

“I’m sure I can contribute to that statement, but please elaborate,” I tease.

“My mom wants me to go to prom.”

“And that makes high school the worst place in the world because…”

She sighs, slumping her shoulders forward as she removes her notebook from her backpack. “I don’t have a date,” she mumbles.

“Oh. And you absolutely have to go?”

She rolls her eyes, her mechanical pencil clicking against the pad of her thumb. “My mom said that I should participate in as many high school experiences as possible. That includes prom and senior ditch day.”

“Wait,she’s actually encouraging you to ditch school?” I ask, surprised her mom would want her to partake in an illegal activity while my mom grounded me the last time I skipped seventh period.

She side-eyes me. “That’s not the point, Hayden.”

We stay silent as Mr. Khan claps to get the class’s attention, his hands gliding across the whiteboard as he makes the poorest attempt at drawing a plant cell.

Twenty minutes into our lecture, I rip a triangle of paper off my notebook and scribble a note before sliding it across the table to Natalia. She looks down next to her elbow, reading themessily written words:Prom? With me?before looking up at me as if I have horns growing out the sides of my head.

When she doesn’t answer and continues writing notes on her own notepad, I nudge the paper against her arm again. She then huffs a small sigh and reaches for the paper, scribbling something in response.

When I look at the paper, she’s written in her neat handwriting: You already have a date.Your girlfriend?

In response, I shake my head. She eyes me curiously, taking the paper back.

You guys broke up?

I nod, thankful that our forced silence is keeping me from sharing the details of my and Jenny’s messy—and weirdly ambiguous—breakup. Insteadof accepting my initial offer like I hoped Natalia would, she returns to face the front of the classroom.

“So that’s a no?” I whisper after a long stretch of silence.

“That’s a no, Hayden,” she answers, her voice matching my tone in whispers and discretion.

“Why not? Would my dancing embarrass you?” I whisper. I keep my eyes on her face, waiting for her answer. I watch as her eyes move off her paper and her scowl turns into an annoyed eye roll.

She finally turns to look at me. “I’m saying no because you don’t want to go with me.”

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