Chapter Text
Travis couldn’t even pinpoint the moment it all began. No matter how many leading questions he asked himself, how hard he tried to remember, nothing specific ever surfaced. And really, that wasn’t surprising. The whole root of his trouble lay in how smoothly and naturally his feelings had nudged his life off onto a crooked path.
One moment he was still walking down a brightly lit avenue, where you could see for dozens of meters ahead and the smooth asphalt held no cracks or potholes. Here, under the streetlights, he had a friend. A very close friend. Over the few short months of summer break, they’d spent so much time together it could have filled a lifetime. And yet it was never enough, because how could anyone ever get tired of something so incredible?
They used to drive to the neighboring town every weekend to watch old movies at a small indie theater, and on the way back they stopped by a used bookstore almost as often as the kiosk that sold them cheap cigarettes and terrible alcohol without ever asking for ID.
Natalie found him a guitar in some thrift shop after Travis told her about his stupid childhood dream that never came true. His dad had always believed music wasn’t a man’s thing. For a long time, Travis believed it too. Then Natalie pulled a worn-out guitar from the back seat of her car and handed it to him with ceremonial gravity and shining eyes. Her enthusiasm didn’t fade even after the first awful, absolutely unbearable-for-human-ears chords stumbled out from under Travis’s fingers.
Soon it became another one of their little rituals. Travis liked how Natalie would sprawl on the floor under the fan, hiding from the heat, eyes half-closed, completely serene as she listened to his new chords. Sometimes they’d mix in a joint during their music sessions, if they could get their hands on one from Travis’s weird cousin. Mostly, though, their faithful companion was cold beer – which, to be honest, he liked even a little more. There was something surprisingly comforting about their light, easygoing buzz. And about the way Natalie’s rings clinked against the green glass when she gripped the bottle, pinky sticking out just a little.
Travis hadn’t admitted it but he’d never smoked weed before Natalie. He didn’t know why. He never had to hide anything from her. She was the last person in the world who would judge him. But she seemed so effortlessly cool and experienced at everything that his own inexperience felt like an enormous chasm between them.
One time the weed turned out to be a little too strong for him, the sensations a bit too intense. Panic hit him, and he had to tell Natalie the whole truth.
“Looks like I just took your weed virginity,” Natalie said casually a little later.
They were sitting in his cool tiled bathroom, bringing him back to himself. Her husky voice was calming. She laughed, not at him, but at her own joke, and lightly nudged his thigh with her foot, just barely reaching. That made him laugh too, the absurdity of how young and stupid they were hitting him all at once. He was still a little slow to react, but he laughed anyway. His flushed cheeks were easy to blame on the weed, though that wasn’t really the cause. It didn’t matter – back then, everything was still easy between them. At that time, Natalie had taken only his weed virginity, and nothing else.
He barely had time to blink before he’d veered off the path and into the unknown depths of the forest. Into the dark thickets where every step carried a risk, demanding careful thought and consideration.
Summer ended painfully and swiftly, tearing apart the little world where they had managed to hide from everything and everyone until that moment. School started, Natalie’s training resumed, the movie theater closed until the next summer, and Travis’s heart in pieces. In a short time, he couldn’t imagine his life without all the places, moments, and feelings that had belonged only to him and Natalie.
“You’re such a sentimental idiot. It’s kind of cute,” Natalie said. They were hanging out at the old playground behind the trailer park on the last day of summer.
To back up her words, Travis remembered that evening down to the smallest detail. Natalie sat on the rusty chain swings, tucking her legs up so her boots wouldn’t scrape the dusty ground, while he pushed her higher and higher, secretly pleased that this time she was too absorbed to notice his flushed face again. She clutched the hem of her skirt with her scraped-up knees so it wouldn’t catch it in the wind, and her hair, grown-out dark roots and all, kept falling into her eyes every time the swing flew forward.
“As you wish,” Travis snorted, inhaling the cool evening air. He tried to turn his gaze toward what must have been the most beautiful pink sunset of the summer, with curly clouds drifting across the sky. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t force himself to look away for more than five seconds. Over the summer, he had amassed a gallery of dozens of sunset photos, yet this one wasn’t among them. Not that it mattered, his memory held the entire evening, frame by frame, in his heart.
It felt perfect, and he didn’t want this feeling to ever leave his life.
Not that it would, exactly. But everything had changed.
In the first week of school, they wandered into a shop full of vintage junk for crazy movie buffs and nerds – at least, that’s what Natalie called it, grimacing as she stepped over the threshold. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t completely hide her keen interest in the rows of DVDs and cassettes. Especially when a disheveled Van crawled out from behind the counter, carrying a huge box of discs with a crooked black marker scrawl that read “Returned.”
Travis didn’t know Vanessa very well, but for some reason he wasn’t surprised that she worked in a place like this. He liked old and strange things too, and he was almost certain Van must have a collection of encyclopedias about dinosaurs or space. Because anyone who still watched DVDs in the age of Netflix would. (He did.)
Van jabbered away with them, sorting the discs on the shelves with exacting precision, knowing exactly which genre and letter went where – even without looking at the labels. She must have been working there long enough to memorize the entire store.
Eventually, she brought them an old, decommissioned but still working DVD player from the back room. Travis claimed that all this generosity was thanks to his inner nerdy charm, while Natalie just gave a knowing nod and a smile. He never quite figured out whether it was really his charm or simply the fact that they managed to get the player for free. They also grabbed a few horror movies from the library to borrow.
Natalie drove him home without coming inside. The bag with the player and discs stayed with him, but without Natalie, it felt pointless. He wouldn’t have watched anything without her.
“I need to swing by the laundromat before it closes, and then it takes an hour to get to that cheap supermarket,” She explained, responding to Travis’s sad eyes. Now that they spent the whole day at school, she had even less time for chores, and her waitress shifts three days a week hadn’t gone anywhere. Free time was scarce, and the stress and pressure had multiplied.
Travis felt a prickly guilt that his home life was better than hers. At least he didn’t have to earn his own food or handle all the chores by himself, and his biggest problem right now was the aching sadness of missing her so much that he could barely focus on anything else – like a lonely puppy left behind.
“See you tomorrow?” He asked, stepping out of the car onto the driveway.
“Of course, at school,” Natalie smiled, turning the key and already ready to drive off. Travis had no choice but to smile back, pretending that this was exactly what he meant. He watched her disappear around the corner before finally going inside the house.
His father was out somewhere, as usual. Travis knew the practice had ended a few hours ago, because he’d spent all that time with Natalie, and there was no other excuse his dad could give the family with a clear conscience. Well, fine. Being at home without him was far more peaceful, and even mom, against all expectations, seemed much cheerier without him around.
From the moment he stepped inside, he caught the smell of lasagna wafting from the kitchen. Mom always made it when she was in a good mood. An involuntary smile touched his lips.
“Travis?” Havi called from the living room without looking up from his comic. If the boy was reading there – or doing anything at all on his own in the common area, it was another sure sign that dad wasn’t home.
“Hey, Javi,” Travis answered, peeking out from the doorway.
“Wanna hear about Jeff Lemire’s adventures? Mom bought me the new one on her way home from school, but I’ve almost finished it already.” The boy waved his hands excitedly, trying to lure his brother over.
“Finish reading it first, then you can tell me, okay? Mom’s in the kitchen?” Travis didn’t want to refuse Havi, but he also wasn’t ready to dive into stories right this second. The boy seemed perfectly fine with the suggestion. Without much thought, he went back to reading, offering just a short “yeah” in response to the second question.
Mom was bustling in the kitchen, stirring dough for some kind of pastry, humming a song in Spanish Travis didn’t know.
He fidgeted, not starting a conversation. He just watched her cook, sitting at the table, answering the flood of questions that came his way. Mom jumped from asking about his day at school, new subjects, and random little things, to telling stories about an argument with some woman in the vegetable line, and the accident that had happened earlier that morning on the way out of town – all at breakneck speed.
“Want me to help with dinner?” Travis asked, once his mom’s questions and stories had quieted down, though he wasn’t ready to leave yet. He bit his lip, catching the moment when Mom stopped kneading the dough, wiped her hands on her apron, and looked up at him.
“Did something happen?” She asked cautiously, narrowing her eyes.
“Why would something have happened? Can’t I just feel like helping you with dinner?” He knew he’d been caught, but he wasn’t ready to give in. He didn’t want to share his inner turmoil with mom – he just wanted to be near her. Her aura of universal calm was soothing. Just like when he was a kid.
“Don’t tell me stories, sweetie.” Mom tilted her head, hands on her hips. Sometimes Travis hated how easily she could read them, even when, in truth, he came looking to be read.
Where were you after school? Are you in trouble again? You know you can tell me…” Her worried tone was maddening. Travis immediately wanted to calm her down, even though his first automatic reaction was to get annoyed.
He jumped up from the chair, but didn’t grab his bag just yet.
“Mom, I'm fine.” He didn’t yell, just rolled his eyes in mild frustration. He rarely yelled at all – even when he wanted to. The urge not to be anything like his dad, not even in the smallest detail, always outweighed everything else.
“I was out. With a friend. Just tell me if you need help.”
“I don’t need it. Go rest before dinner.” She studied his face for a moment longer, until she found something that reassured her, and then returned to the dough. Her expression softened again; the crease between her brows smoothed out.
Travis shook his head slightly, smiling faintly, and after looking at her once more, he grabbed his bag from the floor and headed for the stairs to the second floor. The weight of the bag in his hand reminded him of what was inside.
“Do we still have that ancient TV? The one you brought from Grandma’s house.” If he and Natalie were ever going to actually use the discs, they’d need one of those TVs that could still hook up to the player. Luckily, the question didn’t trigger a whole new round of questions from his mom, which Travis quietly appreciated.
“You can check the attic. I think it’s still there.” That was all she said.
Travis disappeared upstairs faster than his mom could even think about asking anything else.
In the fall, things between Travis and Natalie changed. But not because they stopped seeing each other. They just had to establish a new routine. Somehow, getting used to it turned out to be easier than he expected. Travis could get used to anything, as long as it meant he could still be near Natalie.
Travis waited for her after practice. With the weather turning colder, walks along the waterfront and smoking on the swings became rarer. Still, they always managed to find some quiet spot to park and spend time in the car. Often, they even did their homework there. Sure, it would’ve been more convenient to go to the library or sneak into Travis’s room, but as it turned out, Natalie smoked like crazy when she had a lot on her mind, and the car was the only place where she could do it. Travis didn’t mind. He liked the smell of her cigarettes. Natalie smoked the cheapest ones she could find, but there was something about the scent, something special that lingered the moment the filter touched her lips.
One day, Natalie even invited him over, which was something that rarely happened. Her mom didn’t care about his presence, just as she didn’t care much about Natalie being there or not. Still, Natalie wasn’t really fond of bringing anyone into her trailer. Travis couldn’t blame her. The trailer park didn’t look like a place full of happy memories, or somewhere you’d want to come back to – or bring friends.
He didn’t care about any of that. In fact, he even thought Natalie’s room was really stylish. Something he mentioned to her every now and then, whenever he happened to be there.
“It’s all about style, Trav. You don’t need money for that,” Natalie said, pride clear in her voice.
They didn’t talk much about how much it actually mattered to her that all her clothes and furniture came from thrift stores or charity shops, but they didn’t need to. Travis saw it all without words. And she wasn’t lying, Natalie always looked like a cool girl, no matter where her clothes came from.
Then Natalie called him over to help with dyeing her hair. Travis got so worked up that he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling. She needed help with the back of her head, areas she couldn’t reach comfortably on her own. Even with her cheerful attitude, Travis felt the full weight of responsibility. Just the thought of messing something up and ruining her hair made his palms sweat.
It went much better than his anxious brain had imagined. It actually turned out to be pretty fun, even if they ended up covering the entire sink in dye. He laughed like a maniac when Natalie put a plastic bag over her head. He had never dealt with hair dye before, and Natalie said it would work better that way, but it was hard to take seriously when the person had a bag on their head.
A few pillows flew at Travis, which only egged him on, making him laugh even harder.
The player came in handy too. Not all the time, but they still watched movies, wrapped up in blankets on his bed. The old TV sometimes acted up, and half the time Natalie would fall asleep before the movie ended, curling up next to Travis. He tried to be as careful and quiet as possible. Usually, their movie sessions happened after Natalie’s café shift. She was always so tired, and Travis couldn’t help but be glad that she could at least sleep a couple of hours in safety. No waking up to street fights, no listening to her mother’s breathing through the walls at night to make sure she was still alive and hadn’t gotten wasted again.
But all these changes were just small details compared to what really mattered. What made things complicated, even though they shouldn’t have been. Or, made everything complicated just for Travis. He couldn’t know for sure, because he never dared to ask. He wasn’t certain he ever could. After all, it would almost certainly ruin everything they had.
Travis and Natalie had started hanging out at the beginning of May. They started sleeping together in mid-September. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. For a while, it wasn’t. Obviously, not for long – now it was the end of November, and Travis had a huge problem: he was, like an idiot, in love with his best friend, the same friend he was having sex with.
At first, it was Natalie’s intense training schedule that stressed her out. Then came problems at work. The new manager turned out to be a total jerk, and she could barely stand being around him. Travis’s parents were fighting harder than ever. His dad moved out – Travis didn’t know where, but he was almost certain that whatever had caused the fight was just an excuse to do what he had wanted for a long time. And apparently, his new perfect life wasn’t as sweet as it seemed, because he still lashed out at his team.
Natalie exhausted herself on the field, dragging herself to work half-dead. Javi cried into his pillow every night, even if he didn’t admit it. Nightmares and sleeplessness returned, and Travis had to spend long nights holding and rocking his brother until he finally calmed down and fell asleep.
Travis and Natalie were both practically buzzing with tension that had to go somewhere. Otherwise, it would’ve torn them apart, like a thousand tiny explosions waiting to happen. And they found that release in each other.
After all, they were just friends helping each other breathe again when things became too much. Nothing more. That was the deal from the very beginning. But then they started sleeping together out of boredom, out of curiosity, when things felt heavy, or when the exhaustion from school built up. Sometimes simply because it was raining and there was nothing else to do.
And it was fine. More than fine. Of course, from the very start, Travis was a little too intense for something that was supposed to be casual, no-strings-attached. But, hey – he was seventeen, and Natalie was the first person who’d ever gone further than a careless hand sliding into his jeans. So maybe he was allowed to be a little overwhelmed by it all.
He kept himself under control for a while.
Or at least he told himself he did.
It was good sex, as far as he could tell with his very limited experience. Natalie had more of it, and this time Travis told her the truth right away. It turned out to be better for both of them. She taught him a few things. Mostly, though, they just explored each other. Travis liked giving her pleasure, liked how safe and comfortable he felt. But more than anything, he valued the fact that they were still friends.
Until his stupid feelings ruined it
If he had to pick the moment when everything went wrong – sifting through dozens of memories, nights in his dimly lit bedroom, and all the things they’d done – he would choose the day he moaned her name in bed. That was the collapse.
Even to him, it felt like too much of a cliché. Travis had never thought of himself as the kind of person who would moan someone’s name. And yet, here he was.
Turning that night over in his mind, he remembered how they’d lain in his bed, having gone through every disc they’d rented earlier that day. The clock had slipped past midnight, his family was deep in sleep, and Natalie should have gone home by then, but a brutal storm had risen outside, and it wasn’t safe to drive in weather like that. It didn’t bother her much, but Travis flatly refused to let her leave until the rain eased up.
Natalie protested for show, muttering something about freedom of movement and how he couldn’t keep her locked in. All the while, she was settling herself more comfortably into the soft pillows.
They talked about everything and nothing. Travis shared little facts about stars and space, pointing up at the ceiling where the green glow of his childhood nightlight cast a makeshift starry sky. Natalie listened with interest, her eyes never leaving the artificial stars, or Travis’s hand drifting through that tiny, borrowed cosmos.
Until, after another bolt of lightning split the real sky, the power went out. There was no electricity until morning, and suddenly they truly had nothing left to do.
He had felt it before. That swell of feeling, like something scraping inside him, clawing at his heart. A deep, aching longing tangled with desire and mind-clouding arousal, mixing together until it burst in a bright, sparking flare in his chest. He needed more of Natalie – closer, stronger. He needed a kind of closeness that couldn’t be reached through bodies alone. And so Travis kissed her. Slowly and deeply, clinging to her soft lips the way a thirsty person clings to healing water. He looked into her eyes, darkened with desire, at her flushed, beautiful face, and suddenly everything made sense again, took shape again.
Natalie was his first. That only made the cause and effect more tangled. Travis couldn’t tell whether he was searching for that deeper, soul-level closeness in Natalie because he slept with her, or if he slept with her because he was searching for it.
When the wave of feeling finally hit him that night, everything changed. He was behind her, Natalie’s face buried in the pillows, teeth catching the soft fabric as she tried to stay quiet. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t lose himself in her eyes. He tried to press his trembling, over-wound body to her back, to bury himself in her hair, but nothing worked the way it usually did. It felt like his body and his soul were about to shatter into a hundred tiny pieces.
That was when her name slipped from his lips, hoarse and broken. “Natalie.” His breath burned against her neck. It might have been easier, or maybe much harder – if Natalie hadn’t poured oil on the fire, answering him with a long, sweet sound he’d never heard from her before. She shook in his arms, breathing hard, and something shifted. And that was what he couldn’t stop thinking about.
Travis had expected anything after that. A sharp joke, some playful teasing, that would’ve been exactly Natalie’s style. Or maybe she would’ve asked him to do it again, with a crooked smile that would’ve made him blush. But there was nothing.
Natalie didn’t comment on what had happened at all. It was impossible that she hadn’t noticed. She’d heard him say her name, and she’d liked it. Even if Travis still wasn’t very good at understanding how sex worked, he was surprisingly good at understanding Natalie. He could usually tell when and how things felt especially good for her, and this time was hardly an exception.
As soon as the storm died down, Natalie slipped out through the window. She gathered her things and disappeared, the way she had so many times before. But there was something in her expression this time – something Travis would have called confusion, or maybe embarrassment, leaving him to wonder if he was the reason for it.
The very next day, she acted as if nothing unusual had happened. All Travis could do was follow her lead. Nothing had changed between them. But something had changed inside him.
More and more, it began to feel like all of this had been inside him from the very start. These feelings, now something he at least knew how to name, even if only vaguely and uncertainly, had been taking root in his heart ever since that very first day Natalie had offered him a cigarette behind the school during third period on a Wednesday.
More and more, thoughts of Natalie – now changed in shape and weight, crowded his mind. It felt physically impossible to stop thinking about her. Like tearing out a piece of himself, scratching his skin until it bled. And he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to stop thinking or feeling, even if it hurt. There was something undeniably masochistic about this maze of thoughts, because telling her – lifting the weight of not knowing – wasn’t an option either.
Natalie didn’t like talking about feelings. Whenever they grew too strong, it hurt and scared her just to show them, let alone put them into words.
It wasn’t that there was no room for feelings in their friendship, there was plenty of it. There just wasn’t much room for talking about them. Neither of them really knew how all those heart-to-heart conversations everyone made such a big deal about were supposed to work.
Travis was the first to cry in front of her. It was over some stupid school argument, and Natalie could barely even look at his tear-streaked face. She just wrapped her arms around him, tight enough his ribs almost creaked, and ran her hand through his hair, even if she had to stand on her toes to do it. And it worked. Breathing in her scent, feeling her hair brush his neck, hearing her quick, startled heartbeat – somehow all of it soothed him. Natalie let him soak her T-shirt with tears for as long as he needed.
Even if she couldn’t talk about it, couldn’t find the right words or make big, heartfelt speeches, that didn’t matter.
The first time Natalie cried, she knocked on his window in the middle of the night. That had never happened before. Travis knew right away that something was wrong. Her shoulders and lips were trembling, she had no jacket on, just worn, pajama-like clothes, and even in summer, the nights weren’t that warm.
Her mom had brought home yet another guy. They got drunk, and he caused a scene in the trailer, smashing things and wrecking everything around him. Natalie ran, didn’t even have time to grab her car keys, and just kept going until her feet carried her to the Martinezes’ house.
Travis was almost as scared as she was. He knew what her home life was like, how much shit went on there, but he had never seen it get this bad. And he had never seen Natalie like this.
She explained what had happened in a rush and asked him not to ask anything else. So he didn’t.
When they lay down in bed, Natalie pressed herself against him on her own, and a moment later she broke down, sobbing. As soon as he tried to find words to say something, anything – Natalie pressed her cold, trembling palm against his lips.
“Don’t,” She whispered, pleading.
That was how it had always been. Touches, embraces, a safe place, and time to heal. That was what they had, and he was terrified of breaking it, of ruining what already existed. But the thought that something more was hidden behind all that unspoken space made him want to scream.
He wanted to know what was there. So close, just within reach of his hand, yet so far and unreachable, locked away in her heart.
A knock on the window pulled him out of his thoughts. He’d been holding the same open book on the same page for an hour now – a decent cover, though he had no idea what had happened in the last few chapters.
Of course it was Natalie, making a face at him while she waited to be let in.
“You’re going to get yourself killed doing this one day,” Travis muttered, helping her climb into his room.
“Not my fault the princess is locked away in her tower,” Natalie teased, rising up on her toes and looping her arms around his neck.
“Hey,” She purred.
Even if Travis had really wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to resist that tone.
She was already dressed in her work uniform. The red pencil skirt, meant to fall to her knees, had ridden higher as she climbed through the window. A slightly crooked name tag that read Natalie was pinned to her short-sleeved yellow shirt. The uniform itself was awful, Travis found it almost ridiculously bad, but she wore her familiar leather jacket over it, a run in her black tights had been dabbed over with clear polish, and her hair was pulled into a small, cute ponytail with a few loose strands falling free. All of it together was just… Natalie, and he couldn’t tear his admiring gaze away from her.
But he made himself look away before she could notice how much desperate love was really in his eyes. Lately, Travis had been careful not to hold eye contact for too long. He glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Won’t you be late for work?” Honestly, he would’ve been more than happy if Natalie stayed here with him instead of going in. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen. Weekends were the most profitable, with the best tips, so Natalie took every extra shift she could get on Saturdays and Sundays.
“Look at you, all worried. I won’t be late if we stop talking and start fucking right now.” Natalie kissed him before he could even answer. She was almost always like this before work – wanting to distract herself and unwind before facing dozens of rude customers and a boss who wouldn’t even let her take a smoke break when the place was empty.
Today, their usual gentle, tender touches had turned sharper and more insistent. Natalie was the one leading, and Travis followed, catching the shift in her mood. He had no room left to wonder whether it was work stress or something else making her like this tonight. Not when Natalie, so beautiful and flushed, was above him, rocking her hips and breathing hard, her hands braced against his chest.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He moaned the words – true, but not the ones he really wanted to say. They were all he had left in the narrow corner he’d been pushed into.
Natalie threw her head back, her hair sliding over her shoulders and revealing her beautiful face. Travis was so glad he could see it.
“Say it again,” She asked, almost pleading, her fingers tightening on his shoulders.
For a moment, it felt like more than he could handle. As if the universe itself were testing him, weighing which feeling would win. The urge to do the long-awaited stupid thing, or the need to keep the fragile balance of what they had.
“I love you,” The foolish truth almost slipped free. But he bit his lip, waiting until that wave of hot honesty was drowned by what was coming next.
“You’re really beautiful, Natalie,” he said instead, his voice breaking on the last syllable of her name. It had to pass this time too, he was still in the safe zone.
And it did. Natalie didn’t say anything. She just collapsed beside him onto the rumpled sheets. She let him slip an arm under her shoulders and pressed herself to his chest, her hand resting quietly on his sweat-damp stomach. They held each other after sex, but they never kissed. Always before and during – never after. That was too intimate to be just friendly.
Sometimes Travis let himself get away with the small boldness of playing with her mussed hair, but not today. He already felt like a live wire, stripped bare.
About ten minutes later, once they’d both caught their breath and cooled down, Natalie shifted, glancing at the clock, and Travis sighed softly, knowing exactly what it meant.
“You’ve been really sweet lately,” Natalie remarked, already slipping out of his arms. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she tried to fasten her red bra. Her voice sounded more curious than anything else, and that, at least, was comforting.
“And here I thought you’d been charmed by my irresistible charisma from the very start,” Travis joked, and Natalie snorted in response.
“Shut up. You know what I mean.”
“Guess you’re the one who tamed me, then.”
He really didn’t want to get out of bed. He wanted to curl up under the blanket and take a proper nap, spend the rest of the day like that until Javi came to drag him out. But staying there and watching Natalie get dressed and leave felt too miserable. So he forced himself up, quickly pulled on his boxers and jeans, and went over to the window, lighting a cigarette in the open frame, hoping the smell would fade before mom got home.
With a lot of effort, he forced himself to look away and focus on the bare branches swaying in the backyard. The view wasn’t even half as interesting. Natalie moved around in front of the mirror, fixing her hair and makeup so she wouldn’t look quite so much like she’d just been doing exactly what she’d been doing. Once she was satisfied, she spritzed herself with perfume. The trail of vanilla-and-musk mixed with the lingering scent of sex she left behind would haunt him for a long time. But it was a pleasant kind of torture – a reminder that all of this had really happened, not just been a half-asleep hallucination.
“You can go out through the front door. Mom’s at Javi’s art class anyway,” Travis said when he felt her coming closer to the window. Natalie stumbled over something in the mess on the floor.
“Will do.” For a second she paused, and Travis thought she might come over, touch him before leaving, but she didn’t. Natalie made a small, awkward little wave and slipped out quietly, closing the door behind her so softly you couldn’t even hear her on the stairs. She’d always known how to move silently, even when there was no real need to.
And he was left alone, surrounded by her scent, watching through the cold glass as Natalie climbed into her beat-up car and drove away.
“Fuck,” Travis muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair.
He had no experience with relationships, no real idea of how they were supposed to work. But they already spent almost all their free time together. More than that, they were already sleeping together. Technically, nothing was stopping them from being a couple. They were good together. Neither of them wanted this to end. In the end, it all came down to one stupid label that would give their connection that one, fateful word. But that single step was a chasm wide between them.
With those tangled thoughts in his head, Travis pulled out his phone and started typing a message. Then he erased it, frowning, and tried again.
“Do you want to go to the ice rink? The winter fair just opened.” It sounded reasonable enough to him. It wasn’t a date, though it could be. People who were together went on dates, after all. And he wanted to know what that felt like, even if only in a pretend way.
Natalie replied about fifteen minutes later, which felt like an eternity to Travis. Of course, she was driving, and he didn’t want her to get hurt because of his message. Still, the waiting was suffocating.
“Didn’t I tell you I’m going to work, weirdo?” She finally wrote back in her usual dry, teasing tone, and Travis smiled at the screen like an idiot.
“Not now. Wednesday?” he typed quickly. Wednesdays she had neither work nor practice, and the rink was usually less crowded on weekdays.
“I don’t even know how to skate.”
“I’ll teach you?”
“Deal.”