Chapter 16
16
Hayden
senior year
“Take five and meet back at the line of scrimmage,” Coach Burns announces as he huddles together with our offensive and defensive coaches on the field. A collective sigh leaves every member of the team, all tired with still an hour left of practice.
We all trudge to the sidelines, our helmets held loosely in our hands, where we reach for our water bottles. I see Tyler kick up his steps as he practically skips to the bleachers, his dopey grin all wide and bright for his “not-girlfriend” Yuri Kim. I watch as she leans down on the metal railing with her long dark hair blowing in the wind. Behind Yuri, on the bench closest to the railing, I see Natalia, smiling along as Tyler and Yuri flirt with playful giggles and excessively touchy hands.
I’m surprised Natalia is here. When I last talked to her in bio class today, she told me her flight would be leaving early for New York tomorrow morning. I thought she would have been at home already, readying for her trip. But seeing her warm smile and laugh that I can hear without actually hearing, I’m glad she hasn’t gone home for the day. I’m glad she’s here, her heart still in our hometown instead of a city hundreds of miles away.
I glance back at our coaches. They’re still deep in conversation with their hands on their hips and brows furrowed, so I jog over to where Tyler’s standing.
“Hey, Nat,” I call, nodding my head in her direction. She stands, smiling even brighter than before as she leans against the railing, mirroring Yuri’s stance.
I half expect her to greet me with the shy side of her. The side that I’ve grown accustomed to, as it’s the only side she’s trusted me with so far. I don’t expect her to be so…open. Almost as if she’s as happy to see me as I’m to see her. In fact, ever since our run-in at Starbucks, it seems that this side of Natalia has been pulled to the surface, front and center. Smiling more, willing to fork out more pieces of her without me having to coax them out. I’m beginning to feel myself getting comfortable with Natalia and her finally acknowledging us as actual friends instead of just lab partners.
“Hey, Hayden,” she calls. She rests her chin on the heel of her hand, and the tip of her nose does that little dip before she scrunches it.
“I thought you’d be halfway to the airport by now,” I tease, flicking my shaggy hair, wet from the sweat soaking the dark strands.
“Caught me about fourteen hours too early,” she answers.
“So you decided to ogle the football team instead,” I joke, nudging my helmet in her direction. “Got those priorities in order, I see.”
She rolls her eyes, smiling as she looks away. Her long hair, straightened and looking longer than when she has it curled or crimped, billows against the wind as she lets a light giggle escape through her lips.
“She came to keep me company,” Yuri answers, linking her arm through Natalia’s. The two share a quick look, one that says more secrets than answers, before they both face me and Tyler.
“Line up!” Coach Burns calls from the field.
“That’s our cue,” Tyler says, raising his helmet over his head. He flashes a quick wink at Yuri before he jogs toward the field.
I look at Natalia, her eyes still twinkling with her grin.
“Make sure to bring back a souvenir for me,” I call, following Tyler.
Before my cleats step onto the field, I turn back one more time. I see Natalia still watching me, still smiling, still beaming. I bring my hand up to wave at her before she waves back. And a feeling starts to bubble in my chest. Something that feels like warmth and sweetness and home.
present
My thumb runs along the slick glass covered in frosty condensation, the tumbler holding my drink growing more and more appetizing as this conversation drags on. I’m on my second glass of whiskey, and the conversation hasn’t grown any more interesting than it was when I first sat down in this dingy bar. It especially doesn’t help when the person I’m having that conversation with refuses to talk about anything else besides rescue kittens or The Vampire Diaries .
“All I’m saying is, if everyone got their pets spayed or neutered, we would have fewer on the streets.”
I nod, unable to disagree.
Her name is Lena. Twenty-seven, born and raised in Jersey, and works in PR. Oh, and has a little bit of a problem with her roommate who’s allergic to cats but should suck it up because it’s “not life or death.” Lena messaged me on Cupid’s Bet. When I responded, she eagerly messaged me back asking if I was free for drinks tonight. And I obliged. My other option to assuage the lingering loneliness that settled over me was to answer the text message I received from Jacky this morning. It was almost as if her ears were burning with smoke signals as she asked me in her message if I had a date to Ashton’s wedding.
Ugh, Ashton’s wedding. Maybe I can ask Lena?
I revert my attention back to Lena, her voice, a little too high-pitched and nasally, droning on and on about her cat’s botched surgery when she had him neutered.
No, never mind.
“So, uh, how many cats do you have?” I ask, attempting to carry on this conversation.
“Five,” she answers proudly. “My newest rescue just found his forever home with me two weeks ago. I named him Klaus.”
“Oh, that’s unique,” I comment, slightly surprised that she would think of such a strong name for a cat. “Is it a German breed?”
Her brow furrows in disapproval. “You don’t know Klaus? The original hybrid? He’s half vampire, half werewolf.”
I shrug in a way that’s meant to apologize for my lack of vampire-slash-werewolf knowledge, but it comes off as an I couldn’t give two shits kind of shrug.
She waves a hand at me. “Anyway, he’s been having some trouble adjusting with all of his brothers and sisters.”
“All four of them,” I add matter-of-factly while trying my best to keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice. And if it accidentally slips, she doesn’t notice.
“Yes!” she exclaims. “You see why he’s having so much trouble adjusting?”
I nod, adding an uncomfortably forced smile. My gaze lands on the raised bar top where our drinks left behind wet rings on the wooden surface. Her small hand reaches mine, gently wrapping around my fingers as I still clutch my drink as if it were my lifeline.
“Did you want another?” she asks, her blue eyes peering at me through her lashes. It’s getting late. And even though I don’t really need to be up early tomorrow since my shift at the restaurant doesn’t start until close to noon, I’ve already grown weary from this date.
“I actually have to be up early,” I lie, taking a cursory glance at my watch.
“Oh,” she says softly. “That’s too bad.” She adds a suggestive brow raise and a squeeze to my hand before leaning closer. “I thought you might want to come over.”
She’s bold, I’ll give her that.
“Maybe next time.”
I wave the waitress over to close our tab. Once that’s settled, we both exit the bar and exchange awkward hugs before Lena heads home toward Midtown and I walk to the subway station to cross the bridge. Just as I set my eyes on the green rails and concrete steps leading down to the train platform, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
The smile that splits my mouth in two hits me like a warm vanilla cake, spongy with a bounce light enough to lift my sourest of moods and so cozy it can heat my insides during the chilliest of Ohio winters.
It’s Natalia.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime, Marquez? ”
“I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on my bedtime,” she calls through the phone.
“I keep tabs on a lot of things about you,” I quip. “Like how many drinks it takes for your neck to turn pink or that you have the weirdest taste buds of anyone in the tri-state area.”
“I do not!”
“Says the person who once offered me a bag of butter popcorn flavored Jelly Bellys.”
“You remember that?”
“How could I not? They were disgusting.”
She giggles.
“So, to what do I owe this late-night call?”
She pauses. “It’s nothing.”
I’m halfway down the stairs before I stop. “Nat, what is it?”
“I just…I guess…” She pauses before letting out a light hum. As if by doing that, she can hide the underlying reason she called me.
I wait patiently, knowing that pushing Natalia isn’t the way to get her to open up. She says what she says and does what she does on her own terms. Not because she’s stubborn but more because she’s shy and reserved. That’s how she was in high school, and she’s still the same way now, uncovering layers of herself according to her own comfort level while peeling them back as she grows more assured and less vulnerable.
“I was just feeling a little…lonely,” she finally says, breathing out the last word as if she doesn’t want to use the full force of her voice to make it lack its certainty. And it isn’t that she’s not actually lonely. It’s that she doesn’t want to fully admit it.
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.”