Chapter 29
29
Hayden
senior year
I pulled into the school parking lot Thursday morning with Jenny sitting in the passenger seat. She texted me the night before, asking if I wouldn’t mind picking her up since her car was in the shop. While that may have been true, it was obvious she wanted to make a point by coming to me instead of one of her friends.
“I have to meet Tina before first period,” she announces, her door opening a few inches before she starts to exit the car. “She wanted to talk about something.”
I nod, my gaze narrowed in on a familiar silver BMW parked a couple of rows over.
“Is everything okay?” Jenny asks.
I don’t turn to face her. Instead, I silently nod again, reaching for my backpack in the back seat before exiting the car. I don’t check to see if Jenny’s following. Instead, I stalk toward the car I’ve been eyeing, checking to see if the driver is still anywhere nearby.
When I round a row of cars, I see Alex Spencer. He’s leaned up against the hood of his car, a small group of people gathered around him, all smiles with the low rumble of chitter chatter before the first bell.
Prom should have been remembered as a benchmark for every memorable moment of our senior year, right alongside graduation and the last day of school. It should have been something that I, along with everyone who attended, remembered and reminisced about. But I can’t. Not anymore. Knowing how it ended for Natalia, knowing that she was all alone with Alex fucking Spencer to grope her, made me so fucking angry. I’ve become a ball of fury ever since Natalia told me what happened. Whenever I close my eyes, all I can think of is beating the shit out of Alex. And that extremely fine line that borders between me being a friend for Natalia, one that she turned to when the pain from that night became too much to bear, and me acting on every simmer of hate that I have toward Alex, begins to blur.
“Hey, Spencer!” I call. I don’t even bother trying to hide the anger seeping through my voice. My blood feels like it’s actually boiling, bubbling up inside me, making my entire body shake with rage.
When he hears his name, he looks up to face me, a stupid grin plastered on his face as if he didn’t even give what he did to Natalia a second thought. I drop my bag on the asphalt before taking my final step, stopping a few feet from his face with my hand gripped into a tight fist.
“Hey, Marshall,” he answers, tilting his chin toward me.
And before I know it, my fist hits him square in the face. The impact makes him stumble, bracing his palms against his own car before staggering to the floor. I know it’s a low blow, sucker punching him when he least expects it, but I don’t even care. Every time I think about Natalia with her head ducked low and flinching when I moved a little too close to her, it makes me furious. I want to pound his face into the ground until he can’t smile that smug-ass grin, until he knows that I know what he did.
Everyone starts to gather around us. Alex sits on the ground, wiping the trickle of blood oozing from his nose.
“What the fuck, Hayden!” he shrieks.
“I swear to God, if you touch Natalia again…if you even look at her, I will come after you,” I growl, my fist still clenched and wound so tight that my nails dig into my palms.
Just as the words leave my mouth, I feel someone jerk my arm. I turn to see Jenny looking up at me, confused and angry.
“ Hayden!” she shouts.
I don’t say anything to her. I don’t fucking care anymore. So she walks away. I watch as she does, not even bothering to go after her.
“Okay, people! That’s enough!”
We’re interrupted as Mr. Walton stands between me and Alex, instructing the crowd to disperse. He turns to face me.
“You,” he says, pointing at me. “In my office. Now.”
I take one last look at Alex, his dumbfounded face not even bothering to fight me back. Instead, he keeps his gaze on the ground, wiping his nose again as the blood continues to trickle.
I pick up my backpack and follow Mr. Walton to his office.
present
I know being alone with Natalia is starting to become reckless. The more time we spend just the two of us, I feel this pull toward her. This current that seems to thicken when she wraps her hand around my arm or when she smiles up at me, her eyes twinkling as her nose crinkles in the most adorable way.
But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to be near her. To bathe in the presence of her, drinking in her infectious laugh. It’s what keeps me going. To call her when I’m feeling lonely. Or when she’s the only one that makes me feel like I’m not lonely. Regardless, I’m looking for ways to be around her while maintaining that length that extends from my shoulders to the tips of my fingers, knowing it probably isn’t the smartest thing to be doing.
“So,” I say as casually as possible through my phone, “I was wondering if you were planning on feeling lonely this Friday.”
I called Natalia, finding any excuse to talk to her or see her. Dexter snagged an invitation to a Halloween party at some hot club that was exclusively guest list only, and it felt like the perfect excuse to call Natalia. Any excuse to see her without having to be all alone with her, feeling like the room is closing in on us.
“Service!” Stephan, my new sous chef who was promoted from his position as the chef de partie, calls from the service line, naturally ushering me out of the busy kitchen into the quieter walk-in refrigerator.
“Are you at work?” she asks through the phone.
“Yeah,” I answer, talking over the low hum of the motor fan while hunching forward to stay warm. “But it’s dying down out there. I had a minute to myself.”
“Perks of being the boss?”
I chuckle. “Something like that.”
I can hear her smile, a small breath filtering through the phone as I imagine that smile spreading across her face. “Um, so what did you have planned for Friday?” she asks.
I hear the opening of her door followed by her shoes clacking, most likely being kicked off as soon as she walks through her door. It’s late, nearing nine p.m., and she’s barely making it home from work. She sighs, following the clanking of her keys hitting her kitchen counter.
“Dexter invited me to this party. I guess one of his coworkers rented out a club to throw some big costume bash, so he asked if I wanted to come,” I say, my voice cautious. “And I got the night off so…”
“Oh, so it’s a Halloween party?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Well, it’s a good thing that I have my Playboy bunny costume hidden in the back of my closet,” she answers through a breathy laugh. I chuckle too, waiting for her answer. “Oh, but Carmen’s off that night. I think she wanted to do something.”
“Bring her,” I offer. “And David too,” I add.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I assure. “Dexter’s got a hand in the guest list, so I think we could invite my entire extended family and yours and get away with it.”
She giggles from the other side. “Okay,” she answers through a yawn that ends in a deep sigh.
“You sound tired.”
“I am.” Her voice stretches through another yawn. “My boss wanted to get started on this big project for a prospective client, and we had to stay late working on a pitch for the morning.”
“I…” I want to offer to come over to her house as soon as I get off work. To prop her feet on my lap while I rub out all the calloused tension. To bring her takeout while I silently listen to her talk about this big project that I’m sure she’s going to kick ass in .
But I don’t, of course. “I’ll talk to you later then. So you can get some rest.”
“Yep,” she answers through another yawn. “I’ll see you Friday, Marshall.”
“See you Friday, Marquez.”
Friday night comes and I’m sitting at home, anxiously waiting for Natalia to arrive with Carmen and David. Dexter is in his room, getting ready, while I stand in front of our kitchen counter, already dressed and ready to go an hour ago.
After some minor back and forth with Natalia, we settled on a matching-slash-couple’s themed costume. Something so that the other wouldn’t feel so out of place. We finally decided on the most relevant and allusive costume for us two: Hugh Hefner and a Playboy bunny. And while she confessed that she didn’t actually have a Playboy bunny costume, I’m looking forward to this party and seeing her in what will further deepen my attraction to her. I mean, I am still a member of male species with typical heterosexual tendencies.
I sigh, shake my head, and roll my eyes in one sweep. Great . What a way to set myself up.
I open the fridge for a bottle of water and then change my mind. I open the cupboard where I thought I had a stash of Reese’s peanut butter cups. When I come up empty-handed, I go back to the fridge for a beer. I’m restless. My fingers mindlessly tap on the counter, strumming along to the seconds ticking on the clock. When Dexter walks in, dressed in a flight suit jumper and aviators tucked into his collar, he sees me pacing the small area connecting our kitchen to our living room .
“What’s with you?”
“Huh?” I jump, swiveling to face him.
“Whoa,” he replies. “Easy there, big guy.”
My body slumps, leaning against the counter, and I drink the cold beer gripped in my hand. “What are you supposed to be?”
He straightens, smoothing out the material running down his chest. “Maverick. Top Gun ?”
I nod, wrapping my robe over my bare chest a little tighter.
“Do these ants in your pants have anything to do with how ridiculous you look in a silk robe? Or is it about Nat coming out with us tonight?” he asks, referring to my costume while flicking at the captain’s hat sitting on the top of my head.
I side-eye him, almost slamming the amber-colored bottle onto the counter.
“It is, isn’t it!”
“No, Dex. It isn’t,” I deadpan.
“I knew it!” he exclaims, punching his fist into his opposite hand, completely ignoring my denial. “That’s why you got all pissed off when you ran into her ex the other night.”
“Dexter,” I scold. “Can you keep your mouth shut? I beg you.”
“I—”
He’s interrupted by a soft knock at the door. I look at the clock on our microwave, glowing neon green and forever running two minutes ahead. It’s just past ten p.m., and Natalia is a little early.
“Just,” I say, turning back to Dexter, “don’t say anything stupid.”
He responds by grinning as if holding back a big secret. And I glance at him one more time before rounding the corner to our door, giving him another silent warning.
When I open the door, Natalia is standing there alone. Her body is wrapped in a large trench coat, the belt bound tightly around her small waist. Large bunny ears rest on her head, all lopsided and adorable.
“It’s just you?” I ask, peering over her shoulder.
“Yeah. Carmen and David are going to meet us there.”
I step aside to let her in. When I close the door and face her, her apprehension is clear on her face. For a second, I think that she’s feeling the same tension that’s oozing out of every pore of my body. But then she starts fidgeting with the thick belt wrapped around her waist, and I realize that she’s shy about her costume. And just like that, all of the tension wrapped around the nerves settled in my chest dissipated.
“Are you going to show me your costume?” I ask, a playful smile dancing on my lips.
She smiles through pursed lips and shakes her head.
“What?!” I practically shriek. “I put on this ridiculous thing,” I say, gesturing to my silk robe. “You have to give me a peek at what you look like.”
She rolls her eyes, slowly undoing the ties of her belt. And then she peels back her coat, slowly revealing what’s underneath.
When we discussed costumes, we skimmed over various options from matching banana suits to superhero leotards. I knew what she was going to wear tonight would border that fine line between the Natalia I’ve grown all too familiar with and the Natalia burning through my most coveted fantasies.
I have to practically clamp my teeth into my fist because holy fuck . Each one of her legs is wrapped in fishnet stockings, all the way up to the creased curves of her hips. The skintight bodysuit she’s wearing cinches her waist and stops far below her neckline, only outlining the perfect cleavage that rounds the top of her breasts. She topped off the entire ensemble with a white collar and black bowtie wrapped around her delicate neck. And her pouty lips are painted a cherry red, matching the smoky-eye makeup that makes her brown eyes pop against the charcoal hues.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she demands with a small scowl when she sees the struggle on my face. Me? Laugh? What could I possibly find funny when all I can think about is slinging her over my shoulder and dragging her to my room?
I clear my throat. “It looks good on you,” I comment, my voice thick and low. And I don’t mean to, but I stalk toward her, all slow and authoritative, not even caring that I look as pained as I feel not being able to touch her how I want. My steps are deliberate and calculated as I come to a stop inches in front of her. My fingers start playing with the front flaps of her coat, flicking them open a little wider. The pads of my index and middle finger start brushing along the covered parts of her stomach when Dexter steps into the living room to greet Natalia.
“ Hellooo ,” Dexter calls, too eager and loud. Natalia smiles politely, her hand coming up to wave at Dexter as she turns to face him. “Wow, Nat,” he exclaims, looking her up and down. “You are wearing that costume.” He stoops down to hug her, lifting her off her feet as she giggles against his shoulder. He groans a little too enthusiastically while swinging her body side to side.
“Nice to see you too, Dex,” she says as her eyes curve and the apples of her cheeks round.
“All right, you two,” I say, stepping in between them. “Let’s break it up.”
Dexter finally places Natalia back on solid ground before nudging my ribs with his elbow, giving me a mischievous bounce of his brows. “So how’s that beautiful sister of yours?”
“Carmen?” Natalia asks, a little confused.
“Lucia!” he corrects.
“Oh, Lucy. She’s good.” She looks at me, a confused furrow between her brows deepening as if asking me what the hell that was about. I give a light shrug, continuing our silent back and forth as she takes a small step closer to me.
Dexter nods, licking his lips before reaching for his keys by the door. “Well, tell her I said hi.” He turns to face me, his movements slightly rushed as if he’s late as he heads toward the door. “I’ve got to stop by somewhere on the way. I’ll see you guys there.”
“Oh,” I answer, unaware that our plans have changed. “So we’re going to meet you there instead?”
He nods. “Just let them know you’re on my guest list. You shouldn’t have to wait in the line.”
I nod back.
“Natalia.” He lowers his head. “I will see you and a shot of tequila with your name on it later tonight,” Dexter says as he tips an imaginary hat and walks out the door, leaving me and Natalia. Alone.
I clear my throat, the sudden noise cutting through the silence.
“It’s a little early,” I announce. “You want a drink before we go?”
“Sure,” Natalia says softly. “So this is the fancy ol’ bachelor pad, huh?” She shifts her feet, moving to walk through the semi-cluttered living room as she follows me to the kitchen.
“Yep,” I answer, my back turned to her as I talk to her over my shoulder. “We hide the blow-up dolls and lava lamps when guests come over. We don’t want people knowing how provocative our single lifestyles really are.”
She giggles as I walk to the fridge to retrieve a beer. I open it with the edge of the counter by slapping my palm against the metal bottle cap, causing a ribbon of mist to float out the top from the broken pressure.
“Thank you,” she whispers softly with a small smile. An awkward silence lingers as she drinks her beer, the glugging of it leaving the bottle sounding louder than it actually is. “So…” she says meekly, her fingers twiddling in front of her. “I have some news.”
“Oh? ”
Her lips press together in a firm line. “I may have an impending date…in the near future.”
Those words feel like a punch to my gut, the force from it hitting me like a wrecking ball. Demolishing all the senseless daydreaming I’ve been doing, imagining how it would feel like to be with Natalia.
“It’s with Shawn. That guy who was at lunch with me and José the other day? At your restaurant.”
“Oh,” I answer softly.
She nods. “He hasn’t asked me out or anything, but José’s been so persistent that I entertain the idea and at least go on one date with him. But I don’t know.”
There’s a strain of annoyance in her voice, and I believe her. She looks so hesitant, equivocating between going and not going on this possible date. So I do the one thing that I don’t want to do. The one thing that any supportive and caring friend would do.
“I think you should go.” My voice sounds forced. As if I don’t want to say the words and I’m holding them back as far as I can because I know it would be wrong. Because that isn’t what friends do. “I mean, you know, when he asks you on a date.”
“You do?” She lifts her face and her eyes round, giving her a full puppy dog effect with the added twinkle from the kitchen lights. No, I don’t , I think.
“Yeah,” I answer, failing in an attempt to sound convincing. “He seemed nice.”
“You mean in the two seconds that you met him?” she teases.
“No, I–I mean,” I stutter, huffing a laugh at how much difficulty I’m having just trying to convince Natalia to do something I don’t want her to do. “It wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot. You know, get out there and meet someone. ”
“What if it’s horrible? Like, he ends up being some weird stalker or worse…” She lowers her voice in a hushed tone, bringing the sideways plane of her hand against her mouth as if she were telling me a secret before saying, “He’s a mama’s boy.”
I chuckle as I watch what little humor she has about the looming possible date trickling through her jokes. “Are you scared?” I finally ask.
“No. I mean…I don’t know, Hayden.” She lightly brings her hand to her face, avoiding her eyes to prevent smudging her makeup. “I guess I’m just looking for excuses to get out of it.”
“Nat,” I say softly. My whole body softens, not just my voice. My face, my posture, even my hands as they move to lightly grip her shoulders. “Just go and see what happens.”
She looks up at me, smiling sadly with downturned eyes. Instead of fighting me like I wish she would, she gives a sad nod.
“Best case scenario, your kids would have pretty blue eyes.”
She rolls her eyes, pushing me away. “Oh my god, Hayden. I don’t need that kind of pressure.”
I chuckle. “Come on,” I say, taking the beer bottle from her hand. “We have a party to get to.”