Chapter 19
19
Hayden
senior year
I nudge Toby’s arm, urging him to slide over a few inches on the cafeteria bench to make room for me. As I sit, I look up to see Alex Spencer sitting next to Natalia at her table, surrounded by her friends. They’re facing each other, with his hands moving wildly in front of him before his movements pause and Natalia shakes her head. Her lips mouth an “I’m sorry” before his shoulders slump and he squeezes her shoulder. His hand lingers on her arm longer than necessary before sliding over her hand.
I smirk. He doesn’t stand a chance. A girl like Natalia needs someone complex, not superficial and dull like Alex. She needs someone who understands her witty sarcasm and dry humor. Most of all, she needs someone who understands that underneath all of that, there’s someone who is sweet and caring and thoughtful. While Natalia gives off the illusion of someone that doesn’t give a shit about all the frills and drama of high school, she still cares. She cares about the people important to her, like her friends and her family, especially her sisters. She cares about books and learning what the stories are trying to tell. And even though she’s rolled her eyes at me enough times to cause them to permanently remain in the back of her head, she cares about me too. She cares enough to make me smile when I need it, to listen to me when I need someone to talk to. She’s the only person in this whole school that knows about the situation with my dad, and yet she hasn’t judged me for my lack of will to fight for my future.
My eyes stay on Natalia, watching as Alex inches closer to her and offers her half of his Snickers bar before she takes a bite. I’m taken by surprise when Jenny approaches me. Her gaze follows mine to see me watching Natalia and Alex a little too closely.
“Natalia’s your lab partner, isn’t she?” she asks, more of a statement of fact than a question. Her tone carries the telltale signs of irritation as her eyes ping-pong from Natalia back to me. “She’s kind of cute, no?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
Jenny crosses her arms in front of her. “So you think she’s cute?”
I finally look away from Natalia and land my eyes on Jenny. Her arms remain crossed, her right foot sitting just a couple of inches in front of her left with her hip jutted outwards. Her brows curve upward, waiting for my answer.
“No,” I say, annoyed that the conversation has somehow shifted to my questioned attraction toward Natalia. “That’s not what I meant.”
Instead of questioning me further, she turns and stomps off.
“Jenny,” I call, hopping off the table and going after her.
present
My and Natalia’s eyes are level with the showcase of various bobbleheads, each figure dressed in different themes ranging from cartoon characters to superheroes.
“So tell me again why we’re here?”
I round the end of an aisle lined with Star Wars bobbleheads, a Princess Leia in a gold bikini smiling at me as I meet Natalia. Her eyes track me up and down. Her gaze lingers on the slim-fitting Henley I paired with my faded jeans on my day off, different from the chef’s uniforms I’m sure she’s grown accustomed to.
“Ashton and Carly are both huge Game of Thrones fans, and I found out that this place does custom bobbleheads with character themes.”
“So you’re going to get them custom made Khaleesi and Khal Drogo bobbleheads?”
She holds up a bobblehead dressed in a Playboy bunny costume. Her smile beams with recognition, and her fingers toy with the figure, tracing over the bright colors and fragile lines before she carefully places it back on the shelf.
“That’s exactly it,” I answer. My attention piques, discovering that Natalia’s pop culture knowledge on Game of Thrones may be more extensive than I thought if she’s able to tick off character names without a quick Google search.
“Sounds better than a toaster,” she says with an approving nod. “But why did you need my help? It sounds like you’ve pretty much settled on the gift. ”
I walk over to stand beside her. Our gazes face a shelf with over a dozen different variations of Khaleesi and Khal Drogo. “They have too many options.”
“Oh Mylanta,” she says breathlessly, her eyes scanning the selection.
“Yup.”
“You know,” she says with a soft voice, “maybe I should have picked my beef jerky over this.”
I wink in her direction. “I’ll get you something better.”
“How about an eeny, meeny, miny, moe pick?” she suggests. “And no backsies.”
“What did I tell you about rhyming?” I warn.
“It’s an involuntary tic,” she defends, shrugging her shoulders in feigned innocence.
“Fine,” I agree. “It’s better than my way.”
“What was your way?” she asks.
“Buying them all,” I joke, silently confessing the fact that I didn’t really come here with a game plan. She rolls her eyes at me before turning her attention back to the figures.
I watch as her fingers pluck along the selection of figures. Her mouth silently moves along as she finally lands on a Khaleesi figure with a blue dress and a miniature dragon perched on her shoulder. She smiles proudly at me with her selection nestled in her hands.
“Nice one,” I say, smiling down at her and watching the corners of her eyes crinkle. And then it’s my turn. I mimic her, hovering my fingers over the figures. I land on Khal Drogo holding a curved machete with war paint smeared across his face and chest.
“I think we have our winners.”
After providing pictures of Ashton and Carly at the register so that the bobbleheads look identical to the bride and groom with instructions on when to pick up the final product, we exit the store .
When we step outside, the sky is transitioning from the orangey-purple haze to a dark night sky. The air feels crisp, the remnants of summer blowing away with the incoming fall breeze, evident by the changing leaves feathering the backdrop as we slowly walk through the busy sidewalk. I fully expect Natalia to call it a night and head home, but then she peeks at me over her shoulder. Her lashes bat at me in an adorable way that comes off as playful and not flirty as she reaches for my forearm, pulling me toward her.
“Looks like the perfect night for some avocado froyo.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re back outside. We’re each holding a cup of froyo in our hands, avocado flavored for Natalia and salted caramel for me.
“Whoever invented avocado-flavored dessert should be committed,” I say, disgustingly eyeing the small cup in her hand as she hums with pleasure from her first bites.
“Hey, don’t yuck my yum,” she says, defending her dessert choice. “As if your car-mul flavored froyo is better.”
“At least it’s sweet,” I argue. “And don’t yuck your yum? Who talks like that?”
She scoops a small spoonful and points it toward me. “Here.”
I turn my head. “No thanks.”
“Come on, Hayden. You can’t knock it till you try it.”
I give in when Natalia’s brows bounce, her toothy grin, the type where her top teeth and her bottom teeth are equally exposed, urging me to sample a bite. When I pull the spoon between my lips, I taste all the hints of avocado that shouldn’t be in a dessert, mixed with cream and cold, along with the trace of chocolate drizzled on top.
“That was interesting,” I say, finding the combination of flavors mixing together too conflicting to say that it’s bad.
She then places the same spoon she just fed me with into her own mouth, sucking off the remaining cream coating the smooth surface. “See? It’s good, right?”
My eyes linger on the creases of her lips as she dips back into her cup, scooping another healthy serving. “It’s interesting,” I assure.
We continue our steps, walking in a lazy, comfortable pace with no direction yet having no intention of going our separate ways.
“So Dexter’s renting a car for the wedding, so we don’t have to worry about taking a train or a rideshare. Hopefully there won’t be too much traffic leaving the city,” I say, filling her in on our travel plans.
Natalia nods. “The venue looked really beautiful,” she says a little wistfully. “And the bride and groom look really happy together.”
She looks at me with a sad smile. The kind where her lower lip pokes out a little more than her upper and her jaw muscles tighten, causing those firm lines around her mouth to form like a parenthesis. It suddenly occurs to me that going to a wedding, one with a beautiful venue and a couple that truly loves each other, would only remind her how much she lacks those things. Those dreams were swiped out from underneath her like a rug when her ex-boyfriend dumped her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have asked her to go with me.
She nods, and her smile changes, the corners of her mouth quirking upward as her smile spreads toward her eyes. My smile mirrors hers, and we continue to walk in silence.
Once our dessert cups are empty, we toss them into the nearest trash bin while wiping our hands with the rough napkins it came with. I barely notice when Natalia’s steps are no longer in line with mine. When I finally do, I look back to see her with her mouth gaping and eyes wide before I walk back to her side.
“Nat, is everything okay?” She doesn’t answer. “Nat?”
“Huh?” She whips her head toward me as if she forgot I was with her.
“What’s wrong?”
She turns her face to look in the direction we’re walking, her eyes focused on a couple walking toward us. They’re happy, smiling, with their hands linked together between them, swinging and gleeful. The man leans down to kiss the woman on the cheek, which she accepts with a contented smile.
“Nothing,” Natalia finally answers, her voice harsh and urgent. “Let’s get out of here.” Her hand, now frigid from the cold air and the dessert we just finished, grips mine as she hurriedly tries to leave our current spot.
Then it finally clicks.
“Is that…” My question trails off, watching as her worried eyes ping-pong back and forth from me to the couple in front of us, all while looking as if she’s hoping the ground will swallow her whole.
It’s her ex-boyfriend, Matteo. It has to be. And the woman he’s holding hands with, looking blissfully happy as one half of an engaged couple. It’s her ex-boyfriend with his fiancée.
Oh god, this is bad. I quickly glance at Natalia to see her face is still shock-ridden.
I don’t know what makes me do what I do next. Maybe it’s the fact that if I saw my ex-girlfriend in the arms of another man, I’d be fuming, no matter how much I claim I’m over her. Or maybe it’s to let this ex-boyfriend know that Natalia is over him, no longer spending her nights in tears over the loss of their relationship, regardless of how far from the truth that is.
I pull Natalia to me, lowering my face to her. One arm wraps around her back as my other hand moves to the curve of her jaw, letting the rough pad of my thumb pull gently at her chin. I expect her to swat my hand away or screech, What the hell are you doing?! but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even bat an eye when I lean in closer, inching toward her in slow, deliberate movements.
And I kiss her.
Her soft, warm lips slowly open up to mine as our teeth graze against each other and our tongues tangle somewhat awkwardly. Like we’re trying to figure out how the other moves. And it doesn’t take long because as soon as we find our rhythm, it feels like a song. One that’ll play in the background of my life forever. And I’ll never grow tired of it. Instead, I’ll build my life around it, weaving my future and my past as I discover what forever feels like.
Kisses like this don’t exist. There’s no way a kiss could leave someone this feather light, like they’re floating in air while feeling like complete mush at the same time. No, this kind of kiss only exists in fairy tales and at the end of cheesy rom-coms. Right?
Her body, tense and rigid from the shock of our kiss, falls pliant as our kiss deepens. I feel her grow heavy in my arms, making me want to take advantage of this moment while poking at the thought that I shouldn’t be enjoying this. That this kiss has a purpose.
When I pull away with my hand still wrapped around her back, her closed eyes pop open. They search mine with an urgency full of questions. Questions that both of us have. Like why I did what I just did. Why my hands are still clinging to her body, the same way her hands are clinging to mine. Or how I’ve spent the last eight years of my life without her in it. And how in the hell I’m supposed to go back to living a life where I didn’t spend my time kissing her.
We stand there, seconds passing as she peers up at me with a look of flustered shock, her chest rising and falling against mine. And suddenly, my heart starts to pound in my chest, thinking of a time when she looked at me the same way, eyes full of fear and confusion .
This was a bad idea.
“Hay—”
“Natalia?”
Whatever breathless words Natalia is about to whisper are cut off as we’re interrupted by the sound of her name.
“Matteo!” she gasps, confirming my assumptions. She finally pushes me away, her hands fumbling with her purse strap as it slides off her shoulder. “Hi!” she screeches awkwardly.
“It’s so good to see you,” he says, grinning at Natalia with his head held high.
Natalia stands to my side. Her arms cross her chest, then her hands come together, one fist twisting into the other hand before she drops them to her side. Her feet shift below her, and she creates a small inch of space between us before quickly peering up at me. All before turning back to smiling back at him. She’s so flustered and worried. And I wish I could take her away from this. I wish we could simply say “no, thank you” to whatever’s going to happen next and leave.
But instead, I stay by Natalia’s side and take in this guy, this shitty ex-boyfriend, to see who the fuck broke her heart to the point of hopelessness. His dress shirt, the color of day-old coffee and hanging a bit too loosely off his shoulders, looks awkward and tawdry. And a layer of stubble lines his chin, something that I assume is meant to make him look broody or suave but comes off as unkempt. I inwardly smirk, thinking how much better Natalia could do, knowing that this guy isn’t worth whatever heartache is still ailing her.
As I’m thinking all this, marking his flaws and pointing them out in my mind, he leans forward to embrace Natalia. I watch her close her eyes and nuzzle her nose into his shoulder as if everything around them disappeared. A quick flash of pain deepens the crease between her brows before she pulls away, causing something in me to twist as my hate for Matteo grows .
“It’s good to see you too,” she whispers. She looks down at her feet, and everything about her shrinks into a meek mess of sorrow.
“I’m Hayden.” I smile smugly, looking at Matteo while extending my hand toward him.
He shakes my hand, completely oblivious to the effect he’s having on Natalia, with a smile and a smirk I almost imagine.
“This is my fiancée, Jacinda.” He proudly wraps his arm around Jacinda, pulling her close to him. Jacinda looks at me and Natalia with a friendly smile, looking completely clueless to the awkwardness in the air.
Natalia slowly lifts her head, her sad smile barely lifting her lips as her hunched shoulders keep her from faking her way through this introduction. I reach for her and bring her closer to me, squeezing her small, limp hand to remind her that I’m right here. Matteo’s gaze lands on our connected hands.
“Is this your friend?” Matteo asks, eyeing the way I tuck Natalia closer to me.
“Boyfriend, actually,” I answer for Natalia when she stays quiet.
His eyes narrow, and he tilts his chin up, barely nodding to acknowledge my answer, almost as if gauging the truth in Natalia’s new relationship status.
“My parents said they sent you an invitation to the wedding,” he says, his voice tight and uncomfortable. “I hope you’ll be there, Natalia.”
“Sure,” Natalia says softly with that same sad smile I want to wipe off her face.
I tug on her hand again, pulling her attention and causing her to look up at me. When she does, a sudden switch turns on, making her realize that I’m still by her side, not letting go. Her free hand reaches to wrap around my forearm, and she finally smiles at me. A real smile. Not a fake one or a pained one, but one that slowly brightens up her face.
I lean down, brushing my lips close to her ear .
“I gotchu,” I whisper quietly. I quickly peck the top of her head, and I question myself whether it too is for show or if it’s to appease the twisting ache in her heart that I know is there.
I turn back to Matteo. “We actually have somewhere to be.” I release her hand and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pressing her against my side.
“Oh, of course,” he says, a crease forming between his brows as he watches Natalia lean herself into me. “It was good running into you, Natalia. And it was nice meeting you, Hardin.”
“Hayden,” I correct him. My eyes narrow, catching the way he purposely mispronounced my name. And there’s no missing the smirk he makes this time when I catch an obvious eye roll and annoyed head shake.
“Right,” he answers flatly. He then turns to Jacinda, looking exasperated and angry. “Let’s go, baby.”