He used to have such thick hair. I loved the way it curled slightly at the ends and I used to wish I could run my fingers through it to test how soft it was.
Another picture is of Nathan showing off his Black Ink Collective special edition jersey. He beams a toothy grin.
That smile won the hearts of many girls at Carleton Oaks High School.
Too many girls, if you ask me.
The last picture is of Nat in his official league jersey thanking his fans for all the thoughts and prayers.
He hasn’t updated the account since then.
I wonder if his leg is okay?
Does it still hurt…
Nope.
No.
I can’t do this again. It took me years to get over my one-sided crush.
At that moment, my phone buzzes.
Dina: When are you coming to see me?
I bite down on my bottom lip as guilt strikes me in the center of my chest.
Riley: This week. I promise.
Dina: Bring candy. These geezers aren’t letting me eat any sugar in here.
I sigh heavily and run my hands down my face as my thoughts whirl like a tornado. There’s something about Nathan that makes me feel like an awkward, clueless girl again, but I’m an adult now. I have people to consider, secrets to keep, a life to rebuild.
I’m mortified that he found out who I am after I tried to avoid him. I’ll have to answer for that someday. Maybe not tomorrow, but Natwillcorner me eventually.
He’s persistent like that.
Feeling restless, I pull on a giant hoodie, stick sunglasses over my face and head outside to take out my trash. It’s overkill to dress like this, sure, but Nat seems to beeverywherein this small town. I can never be too careful.
I look both ways as I cut across the parking lot to the garbage containers in the alley next to my apartment.
As I draw near, I hear cans clanking together. I hold my breath but, when I turn the bend, there’s no six-foot five hockey player lurking in the shadows.
It’s one of my neighbors.
At least I assume she’s one of my neighbors. I doubt any sane person would come all this way just to steal our garbage.
“Hey,” I say, taking one of the garbage bags and dumping it in.
“Hey.” The woman does a double-take when she sees my getup and her short black hair swishes behind her like a fan. “You okay?”
I stop with my hand into my bag of empty soda bottles. Is the fact that I avoided my childhood crush for days only to have a spotlight blare down on me while my full government name was announced tattooed on my face?
The woman gestures to her eyes, which are impressively big. “You’re wearing sunshades. At night. And a hoodie. In the heat.”
In other words, I look ridiculous.
Sheepishly, I take the sunglasses off and hook them in the collar of my blouse. Then I throw back the hood dramatically, like a superhero revealing her identity.
