Page 66 of Best I Never Had

I sit up straighter, fumbling with the beer bottle in my hand to place it on the coffee table.

“Dad.” It doesn’t sound like a question or even a statement. More like an acknowledgment, as if I’m answering a yes or no question.

“Hi, Hayden.”

There’s a long stretch of silence after he says my name. As if he hasn’t said it in so long that it feels foreign to him and he has to readjust to the feeling of it rolling off his tongue. I don’t say anything else but keep the silence ringing loud and clear between us. What am I supposed to say? Tell him that I’m sorry? That I made the wrong choices and I should have been seeking his approval this whole time? Is that what he wants to hear after all this time?

“I…” His voice sounds stiff, like he’s trying to find the right words even though it was he who called me. “I talked to Pat. He said you’re doing some great things over there.”

“Oh,” I answer.

“I just called to say that…we’re proud of you. Your mom and I.”

I hear shuffling on the other end, muffled voices and whispers that sound like my mom encouraging him to say more.

“I know I haven’t been supportive of your choices in the past,” he continues. “But I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. Pat seems to think that, anyway. That I was wrong. And that I was being an asshole father.” His words come out stuttered and rushed as if to fill the awkwardness with words.

“Uh…” I finally say after I’m left speechless. Utterly speechless. I’ve thought about this moment for years. My dad, finally realizing that his support is all I need. And that resentment, that built-up anger toward everything wrong in my life, starts to dissolve. Those layers of hurt and shame start to peel back, and I feel this weight of relief replace the guilt on my shoulders. “Thanks, Dad. It means a lot to hear you say that. Not that you’re an asshole dad, but that you’re proud of me.”

He chuckles. “Anyway, the holidays are coming up. We’d be really happy if you could visit. I know you’re going to be pretty busy with thisnew promotion and all, but Pat said he would give you some time off for Thanksgiving.”

His voice trails with the last word as if remembering the last Thanksgiving I was back home. “Sure, Dad. I’ll be there.”

“Okay,” he huffs, his voice lighter than the start of the conversation. “We’ll talk again soon.”

“Yeah,” I answer, my own voice mirroring his as the weight of worry lifts off of it. “We’ll talk soon.”

25

Natalia

senior year

“Is everything okay?”

I look to my left, Alex’s concerned eyes coaxing an answer from me, before realizing how this must look. Me, rushing to him after Hayden kissed me, only to find that Hayden was actually correct—Alex was getting high in the parking lot—before I pleaded with him to leave the dance early. Maybe I was being too dramatic; maybe it was nothing, barely a kiss. But…I don’t know. I feel so flustered and confused and scared.

I realize Alex is still waiting for me to answer, so I smile, giving a small nod in response with my fingers twisting on my lap. “I’m sorry we had to leave so early.”

He smiles. “It’s fine,” he answers. “I still had fun.”

I smile a little wider this time, tilting my face toward himwhile thinking how glad I am he didn’t make a scene, demanding that we stay or that I find a ride home on my own. I reach outto graze my hand against his arm, not realizing how intimate the act may seem while wanting him to know that he surprisingly made a pretty decent prom date.

He takes my hand into his, gently stroking his thumb over my knuckles as he looks at me. A warm smile spreads across his face, almost in a luring gaze, as his eyes flit to my mouth.

A sudden realization hits me: Hayden kissed me. Hekissedme. Why? We’re friends, lab partners. That’s supposed to be the extent of our friendship. So what are all of these swirling thoughts making everything so confusing and scary?

With my thoughts consumed with what happened between me and Hayden, Alex leans closer, bringing his face closer to mine. His hand, the one that isn’t gripping my hand, moves up to cup the back of my head before he closes the space between us.

It was Alex who I should have kissed…right? I mean, he’s the one that brought me to prom. He’s the one who spent the night making sure I stayed warm with his suit jacket draped over my shoulders and thought long enough to make sure my corsage matched the lavender tones of my dress. But when I can’t push away the gentleness of Hayden’s hands or the playful smile that lit up his face, I realize how wrong this kiss feels.

What happens next feels like two tidal waves crashing into each other. Like the currents fighting at the same time without realizing what they’re fighting. I start to retract my hand from Alex’s grip at the same time he pulls it toward him, crushing it against his crotch. I feel the fingertips of his hands threading through my hair push into my head harder, the hard points of pressure causing discomfort and pain.

“Alex,” I croak.

He must have taken it as some mixed sign of pleasure becausewhen I say his name, he moves more aggressively, his tongue pushing into my mouth. My free hand moves to his chest,failing at any attempt to push him away. When his hand frees mine, I think,He’s finally stopping.But then his hand moves to my knees, grazing his fingers along the hem of my dress and lifting it so it bunches along my thighs before he grips my knee.

“Alex, please,” I cry. My hands start to claw at his chest, wanting him to stop but scared to tell him to because I don’t want to upset him, while the words start to pile up in my throat.Just tell him no! Tell him to stop!

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