Chapter 7
7
Nataly
I walk from the bus stop to the Warehouse with Joy, still feeling the weight of the day dragging behind me like a suitcase with a broken wheel. My camera’s gone. My self-pity is alive and kicking. But I’m here. And maybe that’s enough.
I register the people around me as I’m walking up to the door, and that’s when I see him.
Nathan. He’s outside, welcoming everyone in.
“Oh hi! It’s good to see you—it’s been a while!” My eyes widen as I spot him.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he says, all calm and confident.
It’s like someone struck a match and lit a sparkler right inside my chest. I haven’t seen him in months, and I wasn’t prepared for… that. The way he looks standing by the entrance, grinning.
“Nat, I’m going to go get us some seats, okay?” Joy says as she heads in.
I forgot I’m not wearing makeup. I groan inwardly. I’m pretty sure my face still has the remnants of my tragic crying session. I probably look like the human version of a melted candle—if that candle had been left out in the sun during a heatwave, run over by a bike, and then stepped on for good measure. Why does Nathan only seem to catch me when I’m really not at my best? The first time we met, I was sporting very tangled hair and my makeup was almost all gone because it was the end of the day. Now, I look even worse!
But Nathan’s face lights up like he hasn’t noticed any of that. Or maybe he has, and he doesn’t care.
“Aghhh, I lost my camera today,” I blurt. “I’ve been throwing myself a little pity party at home, but I figured I’d better crawl out of that hole and come to team night instead.”
“Oh no. What happened?” he asks.
“I left it on the seat next to me while I was waiting for the DLR, then panicked when I saw it was arriving. I doubled back… but of course, it’s London. It was gone.”
“Did you check with the station? Lost and found?”
“Yeah, I did. No one handed it in. I’ve been busy feeling sorry for myself for the rest of the afternoon. Hence why I look like this,” I motion to myself.
“Really? I think you look great.”
My stomach does a somersault.
“I better get going. Joy’s already gone in to save me seat. I’ll catch you around?” I say as I begin to walk toward the door.
“I’ll be seeing you,” he says, eyes lingering, lips quirking. I have a feeling that means something.
I felt a spark. And I think he felt one too. It was like there was an electric current zipping back and forth between us, one that had been more dormant the first time we met. It was there, but with all my Joel baggage being carried around, it got forgotten.
Tonight? It’s come alive.
I make a beeline for the bathroom, mascara in hand, determined to do some damage control so I don’t look like I’ve been starring in a dramatic breakup montage.
While I’m putting on my mascara, I’m contemplating. I have a boyfriend. I’m going to need to remind myself of this constantly, apparently. My thoughts clearly have a mind of their own and keep drifting to Nathan, and it makes me feel like the worst girlfriend ever.
But I wouldn’t cheat. That’s just not me. Even if my heart is all over the place—even if I’m unsure this relationship should continue—I won’t betray the commitment I’ve made. My morals aren’t in a mess. Just... everything else is.
Joel has been acting so strange lately. He barely calls. Barely texts. I even cried the other night because I just felt so unsettled about everything in our relationship. Because maybe I’m starting to not feel so comfortable with feeling like I don’t know where we stand or how we feel. It’s like the mixed signals are back. So if my thoughts are inclined toward a certain tall, dark-haired, five o’clock-shadowed, muscled man… then it’s just me wondering what I actually want in a man I want to marry.
Just thinking about Nathan makes the first thing on my list come rushing back to me. Not that muscles are the most important thing in a guy to me— duh , I’m not shallow. But it reminds me of the list.
Second on the list is Christian: in love with God. I don’t want to marry a guy who just goes to church, but someone who’s in love with God. Jesus is part of his non-negotiable package too.
I always think of my parents’ love story. They each wrote lists. And then, somehow, they found each other. I wrote my own list after my ex broke my heart, trying to make sense of what I really wanted in a man I want to spend the rest of my life with. And this is where things get complicated.
Because if I’m being honest, Joel doesn’t check all the boxes. He’s kind, he’s sweet, and he loves God—which is the most important thing. He’s the first Christian guy I’ve ever dated, and that feels significant. Like maybe it’s worth holding onto.
But then there’s Nathan.
And in the span of a five-minute conversation, he made me feel seen in a way Joel hasn’t. It’s like something in me flickered back on. Like part of me that had gone quiet suddenly started singing again.
Maybe my list isn’t just about shared faith or good qualities. Maybe it’s also about spark . About being with someone who makes me feel alive.
My parents got engaged three days after meeting because they knew—deep down—that they had found the person who met the list and lit up their heart. I grew up on that story. I grew up believing in that kind of love.
So of course I’ve been praying about it. Because I know God cares about the details. He’s in the details. He knows my heart’s desires—because He’s the one who placed them there.
So what if… what if the list I made wasn’t just my own wishful thinking?
What if it’s the map God’s using to lead me toward the person He had in mind all along? I know not everyone believes that God has one person for them—and that’s okay. But I like to think that if He created me, then I can trust Him with the big and the small. Including the person He knows will fit me best.
My inner debate team is always contemplating the deepest questions in life. Sometimes it’s a good thing, and other times I watch a movie to escape the incessant questions going around in my head. I may be avoiding some questions that beg for answers, but they’re clearly horrible at playing hide and seek because they’re right there for me to look at in my mind’s eye.
Things are off with Joel. That is what it is for the time being. But also... I have male friends.
There’s no reason Nathan and I can’t just be friends.
I finish putting my mascara on, rush to the bathroom stall, and of course—the mascara goes straight into the toilet. Because why not? At this point, I half expect the toilet to start swirling ominously and drag my entire bag in after it. Honestly, it would be a fitting end to the day I’m having. How does this happen to me?! I mean, I know I’m clumsy, but COME ON! I can’t catch a break today .
“NOOO!” I wail.
The bathroom door swings open, and Joy pokes her head in. “What did you do now?”
“My mascara. The toilet. They are now one.”
Joy bursts out laughing. “Girl, your life is a sitcom.”
I hear N’Sync in the back of my mind singing, “bye, bye, bye” to my mascara. Or like it’s that Friends episode where they’re all at Ross & Rachel’s standing over the crib, all waving goodbye to Emma—but instead it’s my mascara. I don’t even know how I’m going to get it out of there. The thought of fishing it out makes me feel like I would need to bathe myself immediately and for the rest of eternity. But maybe a toilet brush?! That probably won’t grip it but maybe it’ll get it out. I settle on that. It works.
“I’m aware,” I grumble as I use the toilet brush to get it out. “Can you please tell me I don’t look like a disaster?” I ask, retrieving the sad, soggy tube with the least contact humanly possible.
Joy eyes me. “Girl, you look great. Even though, yes, you’ve clearly been crying today. But Nathan was totally checking you out, so I don’t think he cared.”
My stomach flips. “He was not.”
“Oh, he so was. I saw the way he looked at you. And you,” she wags a finger, “are in trouble.” She knows the situation between Joel and I and has never been totally a fan of the fact we’re not crazy in love.
“Joy, stop.” I say as I scrub my hands like a surgeon.
She shrugs as I look at her through the mirror. “Hey, I’m just saying… I think I hear some fireworks going off.”
Team night’s over, and it's time to head home. As I make my way to the door, I catch sight of him. Nathan. He’s standing near the exit, almost like he's waiting for something, or maybe someone.
The second he sees me, he straightens up, his eyes locking onto mine, and suddenly he’s walking toward me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Hey, are you catching the bus to Canada Water?” he asks, voice low, casual.
“Yeah we are!” I reply for Joy and me. My stomach apparently took gymnastics classes when it was younger because the somersaults it’s doing should win the Olympic gold medal right about now.
“Great, I’ll walk with you,” he replies so casually, as if we’re new friends. And maybe that’s exactly what we are.
We fall into step beside each other, strolling along the sidewalk from the Warehouse to the bus stop.
“So, Nataly, how long have you been in London?”
I glance over, and he’s looking straight at me. Not at the pavement. Not at the buildings. At me. Like he doesn’t need to see where he’s going—like watching me is the point.
If I tried that, I’d one hundred percent walk into a lamppost.
“Sorry, what?” I blink, realizing I completely missed his question.
His accent is still occasionally confusing to me. I’ve only ever heard it once before. One of my old managers at Hollister was from Belfast. The first time she spoke, I thought she was American because she rolled her "r"s. But after a few seconds, I realized, nope , definitely not.
Nathan just said my name, and I may not have totally understood the rest of his sentence, but I did catch that. And I love how he says it. The way he rolls the ‘t’ feels like a little piece of home—how my name sounded growing up in America.
And paired with his deep voice? Oh my.
I have a thing for deep voices. It’s something I definitely inherited from my mom. She always said that if she was going to listen to a man talk for the rest of her life, he better have a voice that makes her melt. I didn’t realize until recently that this was something I love too. And my name on his lips makes me melt inwardly. In a friendly way.
Friendly .
FRIENDLY.
Must repeat until I believe it.
“I asked how long you’ve been in London?” he repeats, a small grin tugging at his lips.
“Oh! Right.” I laugh, shaking off my little mental detour. “It might take me a bit to get used to your accent. It’s like a world away from what I grew up with. But I’ve been here since September. Before that, I was in Bournemouth. Before that , Atlanta. But I was born in Brazil. Oh , and I’m Italian. So basically, I’m from the entire world.” I laugh as I give him the full run-down of my history.
I grew up moving around a lot. My parents were Italian / Brazilian, and I was born in the heart of S?o Paulo. But when I was 5, my parents moved us to Atlanta. In my heart, I feel the most American. Even if my passport says I’m Italian, America has always had my heart.
My parents would also move us just five minutes down the road every couple of years because they would find a new house that they liked, and generally that meant a new school, even if it was around the corner. So moving around? I’m a pro.
Nathan gives a low laugh, shaking his head. “Wow. Italian, Brazilian, and American?” He pauses, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “That explains a lot.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What exactly does that explain?”
He smirks. “Your personality. You’re so…” He gestures vaguely, then locks eyes with me. “Bubbly. Full of life.”
His voice is casual.
His look is not.
No sir.
The next few minutes are a blur of easy conversation, laughter, and me mentally reminding myself not to read into every little thing. But then?—
We’re nearing the bus stop, I can see the train station just a little further down the road. Nathan notices some friends standing by the entrance, and I can practically hear the screeching brakes in my head as my mind goes into overdrive.
If he stays with them? Not interested.
If he says hi and keeps walking with me ?
Well.
I continue on with Joy, all my senses standing at attention while I stroll down the street. Casually ( so casually), I keep walking, keeping my expression neutral even though my brain is straight-up sprinting laps. I may have hated the mile run at school growing up, but my mind sure does make up for it and runs several miles an hour. Nathan slows his pace for a split second, greets his friends with a quick clap on the back, a couple of words—then, without hesitation, falls right back into step beside me.
Oh.
That’s when my mind starts playing its own soundtrack. Maybe some church bells and a gospel choir, too…okay, I’m exaggerating a little. But still. I mentally tell them to pipe down . It’s just the tiniest glimpse of interest. No big deal. We’re friends.
He falls back into our conversation as we near the bus stop. But now, there’s an extra little spark in the air.
We’re all about to board the bus. He makes his way up to the top of the double decker bus. I’m always terrified of going to the top because my clumsiness is not exclusive to mascara dropping down the toilet or forgetting my camera. I make my way up with no face planting thankfully, and plop down on the seat behind him.
Nathan turns, shifting so his back is against the window, one arm draped casually over the back of the seat. “So,” he says, grinning, “got any exciting plans for the rest of the week?”
He’s been mainly directing his questions towards me, but he’s always including Joy into the conversation. Polite, yet focusing his attention on me . Joy has dropped in and out of the conversation at times, looking at her phone and texting. I don’t mind that at all, and I know she probably knows. She has given me plenty of smirks along the way.
“Besides uni? Probably the cinema. I have a Cineworld card, so I basically live there. I walk in like, ‘honey, I’m home.’” I laugh.
He chuckles. “Yeah? You a big movie fan?”
“I LOVE movies. I love stories. I especially love romantic comedies and sci-fi movies like the Avengers. But they have to have happy endings. If they don’t, I’m devastated and feel like I’ve wasted my time.”
Nathan grins. “Noted. You’re all about the happy endings.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you planning on watching next?”
“I’m actually SO excited for Insurgent to come out,” I say, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’ve been waiting forever for the sequel!”
“What’s Insurgent ?” he asks, brows furrowing in confusion.
Wait. “What? You haven’t seen Divergent ?” I ask, completely shocked. “The dystopian movie with Shailene Woodley and Theo James? It’s basically iconic.”
“Hmm, not sure.” He shrugs. “I don’t really remember movies by their names.”
I stare at him, wide-eyed. This is a travesty. “Okay, I’m sending you the trailer later tonight once I’m home. Prepare to be blessed by the glorious Divergent series.”
He laughs. “Sounds good. I actually enjoy romantic comedies, too. I grew up watching them.”
I stare at him, mouth parting slightly. “You did?”
“Yeah. I’ve always enjoyed comedy. And my mum was always a good advocate for treating a girl right, so I didn’t mind the romance side, too.”
Wow. He likes romantic comedies? Of his own volition, not being coerced into watching them? I love that.
It’s a quick ride to Canada Water, so the bus has stopped at Canada Water station and we’re heading down the stairs. Phew. No clumsy falling down the stairs. Not that I would’ve been surprised after today.
We’re winding down the conversation as we approach our separate tubes.
“You live in East London?” he asks, standing just a little too close.
“Yep. I’d love to live in West London, but—” I let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s expensive.”
Nathan smirks. “Well, West London will welcome you any time whenever you’re ready. It’d be nice to have you close by,” he says with a wink.
A wink .
I think Nathan lives in flirting territory. Deep in the land.
“I’ll send you that video later. I’ll catch you soon.” I smile and wave at him.
He grins. “Looking forward to it.”
But as I make my way to my tube, my mind is still replaying the night’s events like a broken record. Nathan’s smile, the way his eyes lingered on mine just a little longer than necessary.
Was there something more there? Or was I just imagining it?