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We don’t talk anymore, both of us clacking away at our controllers, grateful for the distraction of the seven-year-old.
After the first round, Felipe rises to grab us a few more beers, and Teo runs around the house with his arms raised over his head in a victory lap. When the front door opens, my eyes automatically snap over, and I know before Jacks even finishes opening the door that he’s not alone.
She steps in quietly behind him, her mother right next to her, and the air changes. I feel it hum along my skin, an electrical current that buzzes between us, snapping sparks when her eyes lift up and meet mine directly across the room.
I stand slowly, ignoring the slight ache in my leg, or the awkward feeling of the cast when I set it on the ground. She keeps her eyes on mine, though she smiles and greets other people when they see that the door has opened and start shouting out names.
All around us, there is movement and sound, light and noise, while Isa launches herself at Jacks, and the rest of her family joins in on the greeting. But for me, all I can see is Nala.
She’s wearing a heather-gray hooded sweatshirt that looks like someone cut the neck off and then sewed a ribbon around it to hold it together. It still hangs off one shoulder almost completely, revealing a plain white tank top underneath, and three or four different level chains with a multitude of colored stones glinting on them. My eyes travel further down to what look like green Army surplus pants, baggy on her hips, and cuffed at the ankles. Leopard print sandals that are held together with brown string complete the outfit, her ankle bracelets still in effect.
Her hair is left wild around her, flowing and rolling in golden-white curls that she pushes out of the way every now and then.
I want her so much it’s hard to breathe, and when she finally walks down the hallway separating us, and smiles in my direction, it takes everything in me not to say fuck my leg, walk over, scoop her up, and plaster myself against her.
Not only is it physically impossible right now, but it’s not the right time. What I said at the beach still stands, now more than ever. I need her to forgive me, and I need her to remember what it was like when we were Malcolm and Nala, best friends.
Because I want Nala to be my best friend again, almost as much as I want her to be my girl.
