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“I was slightly drunk, so that’s probably why,” Natalie said.
“Good girl Natalie, drunk at prom?” I asked.
“Yup. Good girl Natalie who caved to peer pressure one too many times,” she said. “Good girl Natalie who has a lot of fucking regrets.” Her voice was bitter, and I wished I hadn’t brought any of this up.
“Hey, it’s okay. Remember what you said? Don’t dwell on the past,” I said. I tugged a little at the friendship bracelet to remind her.
“Second chances,” I said.
Natalie looked down at the bracelet. “You’re right. Um, do you have anything to drink?”
“I’m not Esme, but I can make a mean spiked pink lemonade with mint,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“Sounds perfect.”
I made both of us drinks, and Natalie came to watch me in the kitchen.
“Thanks,” she said, as I handed her the glass. She gulped as I sipped a little more slowly.
“You doing okay over there?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m just…I don’t know. My life doesn’t look like how I thought it would, you know?” she said. “I went to school so I could get this fabulous job in a fabulous city with a fabulous apartment. And now I’m back home with my parents and working as a nanny. It just…it’s weird.”
She shrugged.
“No, I absolutely get it. I thought that I was going to go to school and get the fuck out of Castleton and now I’m working for my family’s company with no end in sight. I mean, am I going to be working there for the rest of my life? Answering the phones? Like, that’s fine, but is that really what I want? What if I could be doing something else? What else would I do?”
Once I started ranting, I couldn’t stop.
“There’s absolutely no fucking manual for any of this and if you don’t know what you want, it’s impossible to find out. I hate it.”
I took a deep breath and looked at Natalie.
“I know exactly how you feel.”
We drank to that.
* * *
“Would it be weird if I stayed over?” Natalie asked as we worked on our second drinks. “This couch is really comfortable.”
“If you want to. You can borrow some of my clothes, and I have extra blankets and pillows,” I said. I liked the idea of having a mid-week sleepover with Natalie. It would be like going back to when we were on the road trip.
“Thanks. I just don’t feel like being at my parent’s house right now. I just want to stay with you.”
She’d moved so she was laying on her back on the arm of the couch, her legs over mine.
“You can stay as long as you want,” I said, and I meant it. Obviously, she couldn’t sleep on my couch forever, but it would be nice to have someone else here. To not be alone.
I’d moved out because I craved solitude and now I was desperate to be around people again. No, not people. Natalie. Just Natalie.
* * *
I put on a movie for us to watch as we had more drinks and some popcorn. Even though the night was warm, I could never be on the couch watching a movie without a blanket on my lap. My parents had gotten me this huge woven blanket for Christmas last year, and it covered both of us.
“How many times have we done this before?” Natalie asked.
“This is the first time as adults, but as kids? Hundreds,” I said. I knew exactly how Natalie liked her popcorn: massive amounts of butter and just a hint of salt. I liked adding pepper or taco seasoning or ranch seasoning, but Natalie was more simple than that. Classic.
