My fingers tighten around the candy in my pocket. “They’re fun size,” I argue. “Who can eat only one?”
Mrs. Jones makes atsksound and turns back to the copier.
When I get back to my classroom, I pop the second candy bar into my mouth. Lunch will be over soon, and my classroom will fill with loud, well-meaning, mostly obnoxious sixteen and seventeen-year-olds. For now, I’m enjoying the final few minutes of peace.
Sitting down at my desk, I pull out my phone and see a message from Natalie.
I need a boozy lunch.
What? Since when does ‘little missday drinking doesn’t agree with me’need a boozy lunch?
I was with her on the day she made that rule for herself. I remember precisely why, too. She day drank, passed out at three in the afternoon, and I broke the lock on her dorm room door trying to get to her because I was worried she had alcohol poisoning. I was plastered too, and it didn’t occur to me to find her roommate to unlock the door.
What’s going on?I ask, but she doesn’t respond immediately. Every day since last Saturday when I helped Natalie move into her new place, I’ve texted her asking how she’s doing. She responds with one word:good.I know next to nothing about females, but I’m an expert in Natalie, and I knew she needed space.
My last precious minute of teenager-free time is spent staring at the phone, waiting for the three little dots to appear. The bell rings and they pour in without any word from Natalie. I stow my phone in the top drawer of my desk and watch the kids trickle in. I smile and nod as they slide into their seats. Some faces are bored, some are sullen, and one person has his hat over his face and his head tipped back. Per usual, I’m missing one student in particular. When the last bell rings, I rise from my seat and stick my head out the door. Sure enough, Adam Harris and his girlfriend, Linzie something, are making out like only horny teenagers can.
“Mr. Harris, on your own time please.” My voice is gruff because I’m an authority figure, but my seventeen-year-old self is cheering him on.
Linzie giggles and extricates herself from Adam, hurrying away. Adam saunters over with enough swagger for the both of us.
“Sorry, Mr. C.”
No, you’re not. You heard the bell.Can’t blame the kid though.
“No problem.” I reach out, patting his back as he passes me. “You get first turn at the board. Trigonometry waits for no man.”
He groans audibly and a few people laugh as he tosses his bag on his desk. While Adam’s at the board, I pull open my desk drawer and act like I’m looking for something, but I’m checking my phone. Nothing from Natalie. I really hope she’s not day drinking on her own. Who the hell knows what will happen.
* * *
“Natalie, open up.”I knock again, harder this time. I know she’s in there. The second my feet hit the landing I could hear the sounds of a cheesy romance movie filtering under her door. When the rest of the day passed and I still didn’t hear back from her, I decided an in-person check was in order.
The door swings open. Natalie’s puffy, red eyes meet mine.
“What’s wrong?” Hurrying in, I grab her hand from the door handle and pull her into me. Her head collapses into my chest, her scent wafting up to my nose. Natalie always smells the same, but I’ve never been able to describe it. It’s just her smell. My Nat.
“He chose the other woman,” she sobs. “He proposed.”
My lips press together, my eyebrows scrunch. “Nat,” I say, and she pulls back. Tears stick to her eyelashes. She blinks, freeing a few of them and sending them cascading down her face. “Who are you talking about?”
Pressing her face back against my shirt, she mumbles, “Movie.”
It’s hard work, but I keep my chest from moving as my silent laughter tumbles through me. Getting teary-eyed over a movie? It’s so Natalie. Still, my best friend alarm is in tip-top condition, and its alarm bells are going off right now. Natalie might get teary-eyed over nearly everything, but she doesn’tsob.
“What else?” I ask.
She pulls back again, and this time all her tears have either dried or transferred to the front of my shirt. When she hesitates, I urge her on by saying, “Out with it.”
My arms drop to my sides when she turns abruptly. She walks back to the couch, pushes aside the oversized blanket crumpled on top, and mutes the TV.
Following her lead, I cross her new apartment and sit down. This is only my second time in this place and I’m already more comfortable here than I was at her old place. Henry played nice on the surface, but there was always an edge to his words, an unwelcoming energy emanating from him. I got the feeling he put up with me for Natalie’s sake. Even when we lived together in college, it was because I needed a place to live and Natalie asked if I could take his open room.
Nat’s new place is nice. Exposed brick walls, black and white art hung from rustic nails, an herb garden next to the window with the best light. Even with a roommate to split the rent, Natalie is doing well for herself. Settling for that accounting job paid off for her. Monetarily speaking, anyway. Me, on the other hand… well, I’m a teacher. I live with two other dudes and we all share a bathroom. Those are the breaks when you live in New York City. Sometimes I brush my teeth in the kitchen because one of my roommates is in the bathroom, but if I want, I can have Chinese delivered at three a.m. Gotta take the good with the bad.
Natalie folds her legs into her body, tucking them up into the oversized gray sweatshirt she’s wearing. Her knees nearly poke out the neck hole, and she rests her chin on the space between them. Her eyes fall to a piece of paper on the coffee table.
“I had my mail forwarded, but it’s not effective yet. On my lunch break, I went to pick up mail from my old place. Now I wish I hadn’t.” Her voice is tiny, despair poking through the space between her words. “Another rejection letter.”
