All those moments where Natalia sat next to me in high school while I silently urged for her to lean closer or brush her hand against mine. They peeled back from the years we spent apart that made those memories muggy and forgotten. But now they were clear, glistening and shining right in front of me as I realized I needed to cover them back up with something.Maybe with all the doubt coursing through me. Or with the idea that Natalia would never feel the same way. Either way, I need to tuck all of those feelings away because the last time I was here, it didn’t end well.
Once back at our table, Natalia drinks her water, making sure to finish the entire glass to keep whatever hangover symptoms at bay. We settle the tab and walk out onto the sidewalk where the city lights light up the dark sky.
Natalia smiles appreciatively at me, and I watch as she tucks her head down, keeping her gaze on the ground. Her smile, too shy and timid, doesn’t carry the same joy she had when we were releasing our worries through out-of-tune karaoke songs and slurping up fruit-flavored mixed drinks.
A cab pulls to a stop at the edge of the sidewalk, and my hand comes down from the air. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”
“Thank you for today, Hayden,” she says in a soft voice.
Right there, as she looks at me with her somber eyes and small smile, I tell myself that the kiss was a one-time thing. It can’t happen again. It’s too precious a price to pay to test out a theory that has the possibility of breaking us apart once again and leaving too many questions suspended between us like it did when we were seventeen. Especially when her heart is the furthest thing from exploring something new.
My hand pulls at the back of my neck as I smirk. “You’re welcome, Natalia,” I finally say.
I have a sudden need to be close to her. To assure her that we won’t change. And that this friendship we restamped in such a short time isn’t going anywhere. I lean down toward her, being careful not to pull her toward me so she can accept my embrace rather than give in to it. Her hands move up my back as she sinks into me, turning her cheek to press into my chest.
“Your ex didn’t deserve you,” I say clearly into herhair.
“You mean Matteo,” she muffles into my shirt.
“Whatever his name is,” I lie, pretending not to know his name while finally pulling away from her. “You deserve better.”
She lowers her face, a sad little pout poking out her lower lip. “You know, Carmen tells me the same thing.”
I tuck my curved index finger under her chin to bring her face up, and I look into her eyes, not caring that this feels too intimate even though I should.
“Then it must be true,” I say, willing every bit of truth into my voice.
Her smile finally spreads wider. My eyes flick to the tip of her nose, where it dips for a fraction of a second, and then further down to her lips before trailing back to her eyes.
“Thank you, Hayden.”
She doesn’t sound as defeated as before, almost as if she finally believes her worth and she hears me when I say she can do better than this Matteo guy. Because that’s the honest truth. Her bright spirit that seemed to dull when she stood in front of him should be sheltered. Saved for those that earn it and work for it. Not thrown around callously for it to be shut down with a simple hit at her heart.
“Anytime, Nat,” I say in a low voice through a forced smile.
She steps into the cab, and I close the door behind her. She peers out the window, waving at me one last time as the cab drives off into the night. And for a second, just a second, I remember what my life felt like when I was seventeen. When I said goodbye to her the first time.
22
Natalia
senior year
“I kind of likethe blue one,” I say to Yuri. “The one with all the pretty rhinestones on it.”
Yuri holds up the dress I’m talking about against the plain black one she’s already wearing, admiring the sparkly beadwork with a forlorn look on her face. “I know,” she says a little wistfully. “It’s Tyler’s favorite color.”
I nod, encouraging her to pick the one she’s obviously favoring.
She sighs. “But my mom would never let me wear a dress with a neckline that low.”
“You know he’s going to love whatever you wear,” I say, watching as Yuri, with her long hair that runs down to her lower back all swept up in a loose ponytail, admires the dress she really wants. She holds it up to her chest as she swivels side to side in front of the mirror.
“What about you?” Yuri asks, steppingbehind the heavy curtain of the dressing room to change back into her street clothes. “Did you find a dress you like?”
“I think I should worry about finding a prom date before shopping for a dress,” I answer, flicking through a small rack of dresses in the open area of the dressing room.
“I say you go solo,” she calls from behind the curtain. “It’s 2014. We girls don’t need a boy to have a good time. Plus, you’ll have me there.”