Chapter 21
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 the messily 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. Instead of 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.”
“Then why would I offer?”
“It’s fine, Hayden. Forget I brought it up.”
present
There was a time during our senior year, in the midst of the hurrah that was graduation and prom, where something shifted between me and Natalia. It was something that I buried deep, using an imaginary shovel to pat down everything that ever happened between us. And it stayed buried until recently, when she picked up that figurative shovel and encouraged me to begin digging. It was as if Natalia herself didn’t want to bring it up, to resurface those events without recounting something that neither one of us wanted to mention yet managed to pull from my mind and heart.
Until now.
It started to amble along the silent moments when she caught me staring at her a little longer than deemed normal. It lingered along the curves of my own lips and the pads of my fingers as everything from our past collided into our kiss.
And it becomes glaringly harder to ignore, even as I try to drown it all in a pool of alcohol and bad karaoke.
We settle into our seats, nestled in a small corner between an unoccupied pool table and a broken jukebox, creating our own little nook. The sounds of other karaoke patrons singing, sounding much better than my own, which sounded like a goat bleating along to music rather than actual singing, drifts over us in the crowded bar. We fill our time with stories that go as far back as middle school, even pulling an uncanny impression of our biology teacher, Mr. Khan, when he destroyed a set of cell samples by spilling his coffee on them, eliciting an awkward cry of distress that sounded like a duck and a beaver were tussling in an echoing cave. We laugh and talk and laugh some more as we push away everything that hangs in the air between us, stuffing them underneath the layers of our past.
“I’m getting some water,” Natalia announces, standing from her seat. “I need to hydrate, or this hangover is going to kick my ass in the morning.”
“I’ll get it,” I say, stopping her as I stand from my own seat. I watch as she sits back on her stool, a thoughtful smile peeking through her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. Just as I step away, I turn back around, needing to say the one thing that’s been nagging at my brain this whole time.
“Um…” I say hesitantly. My hand grips the table while my eyes trail my thumb tracing careful strokes along the curved edge. “I’m sorry about that kiss,” I finally say.
Her smile drops slightly as the flush already spread across her neck from the alcohol deepens into a dark cherry color. She has a cocktail straw in her hands, and she starts rolling it between her fingers as the plastic ends of the straw start to twirl frantically.
“Do you regret it?” She tilts her head to the side and her lips pucker outwards as she pulls the inside of her cheek between her teeth. She peers up at me through her thick lashes and her eyes stay wide, almost like a deer in the headlights. Like she’s scared.
Of all the responses I expect from her, this is the last.
“Do I regret kissing you?”
She silently nods, eyes still wide.
“No,” I say immediately. Her eyes flick to my mouth before looking back at me and she lets out a shaky sigh, almost as if she’s relieved.
“Then why are you apologizing?”
She knows why. At least, she should know why.
I clench my jaw, stopping myself from pointing out that the reason for my apology should be clear as day. And instead of saying why by reminding her that friends don’t kiss the way we did and clarifying the reason behind it, I take a slow, seductive step toward her. I pen her between myself and the wall behind her.
“I’m apologizing because…” My voice trails off. My voice sounds throaty. And thick. Like I have an entire collection of words stuck in my throat. Ones that matter, ones that I should keep to myself, and ones that want to be spoken but never will be. And I’m sifting through them, making sure to pick out those I should be saying and holding on to the ones I need to keep to myself, leaving them behind to fill that thickness in my throat.
I watch as her entire body tenses. The heat radiating off me wraps around her, causing an invisible force field to enclose us in our own bubble. Every nerve ending in my body buzzes as she leans back, her breath hitching through her parted lips as she peers up at me with her dark eyes. And they’re so dark. Like two hard rocks of cinder that liquefied, making my blood hot like lava as it runs through my heart in rapid beats.
“Because it was inappropriate.” My voice becomes a low rumble as my breath brushes across her cheek now angled sideways. That vanilla scent that screams Natalia Marquez fills the space between us, causing my heart to stutter. I fill the small remaining gap between us, inching even closer to her. This time, she doesn’t lean back.
“Um…did—I mean…” she stammers when our noses practically touch. Her chin tilts up and her eyelids flutter in front of me, making my breathing raspy and uneven. My eyes trail down her neck as she exposes it toward me, and I can practically see her pulse threading against her skin.
“I should have run it by you first,” I say hoarsely.
She looks up at me, our faces less than an inch away from each other. “Oh,” she finally whispers. “I–it’s fine. We didn’t really have time to…” Her warm breath brushes across my chin.
I step away, putting back that safe space between us. I nod, agreeing with her. “I guess…” I trail. “I thought that it would make your ex jealous. Or something like that…”
She nods. “I know,” she says, so low I can barely hear her over the light chatter surrounding us.
“I’ll get you that water,” I whisper, turning away from her before I walk away.
I watch Natalia from the bar, her eyes wandering over the rumbling crowd and music tracks playing in the background of enthused karaoke singers. I wait for the crowd to thin before I order two glasses of water. My own mouth suddenly feels too dry, and I roll a lodged knot down my throat as I tear through every memory I’ve all but forgotten about.
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 her hair.
“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.