☆ if only gravity was a choice - part 2
☆ pairing: nat scatorccio x fem!reader
☆ additional tags/warnings: modern/no crash, ex situationship!nat, college, mentions of drug use, alcohol use, slow burn, suggestive content
☆ summary: upon discovering what nat had been up to during those three years apart, you take it into your own hands to help her get back on her feet. (part 2 of this)
☆ word count: 10.5k
Goosebumps covered your skin as you stared up at the sunrise, back flat against the wooden deck outside, legs dangling just a few feet above the extent of Lake Mohawk.
It was quiet outside, aside from the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves, and you must’ve been in that exact same position for the better part of an hour. At some point during the night, the way Lottie cleared her throat and let out a contained cough in her alleged sleep made you suspicious that all the tossing and turning you’d been doing must’ve been keeping her awake. So, courteously, you’d quietly stepped out of the bedroom on your tiptoes, carrying the soft blanket Taissa had laid out for you, not bothering to change out of your pajamas.
The blanket stood crumpled under your head as a sort of makeshift pillow you’d managed to assemble, which wasn’t very ergonomic, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t in the headspace to worry about the faint burn on your spine, not when you’d been up all night with your thoughts completely elsewhere. Sleep deprived, in a completely different environment than you were used to and coming out of a mimosa-induced drunken state, they drifted between three main topics:
One, Natalie had been struggling with a drug problem, and it had gotten so bad that she had to be institutionalized to deal with it. Twice.
Two, she’d been arrested. Apparently, also more than once. You didn’t know why, but you could only assume it’d had something to do with the reason why she had to be taken to rehab. Which, you remembered again, had happened twice.
And three, the grin on her lips when she’d high fived you after getting that first answer right. The way she’d stepped up to take the arm of the chair, giving you the most comfortable seat without your having to ask. The way her voice sounded just the same it used to when she said your name, when she called on you with that smirk on her mouth, waving her hands in front of your face. And, of course, that God forsaken glow in her eyes when she told you the two of you made a good team.
What really got to you, you concluded after pondering exhaustively on it for hours on end, was how attainable she’d managed to feel for just a moment, despite the sheer amount of alcohol you’d seen her consume throughout the night, just to become a complete mystery again. Even with the beer, even with the smokes, you saw her, you heard her, you even touched her for a second — Natalie, your Nat, still hiding somewhere in there beneath those dark circles under her eyes and that chocolate colored hair. Joking around, teasing Van, making conversation with you. She was there, you saw her, she was there.
But, if the old Nat still existed to an extent, where had everything gone wrong?
Why had she felt the need to try cocaine, in the first place? When had that happened? Who had she been with? Had she been thinking about you at all, wanting to reach out, not knowing how to?
Why had she vanished like that after seeing your face when you first arrived?
You thought back to high school, to all the times she’d cut class to smoke cigarettes and drink cheap vodka behind the bleachers, to the occasional joint she’d pass around during Randy’s parties. Should that alone have been a sign? Should you have kept your eyes open?
You sighed. Lottie had a cigarette phase, too. Van used to hang around smoking other people’s weed at almost every function you could think of. Even Jackie would be caught with a blunt between her fingers, smiling easily and pulling Shauna closer under the guise of being young and just wanting to have some fun.
With Nat, something had happened. Something definitely had to happen to make her fall off the wagon like that, because you’d all dabbled, you’d all gone through it. But none of you had an actual problem.
What had been her breaking point?
You closed your eyes tightly and pressed the heels of your hands against your eyelids as your head started to hurt from all the worrying, from all the thinking, from the lack of sleep. The rush of thoughts drifting through your brain had gotten so intense you barely even registered it when footsteps sounded out on the deck, and somebody’s weight made the wooden boards creak beside your waist.
“You’re up early,” Taissa’s voice made you pull your hands away from your face, which caused you to see the cup of something hot and steamy she held out in your direction whilst bearing one of her own in her opposite hand, “Lottie’s snoring give you any trouble?”
Though you were grateful for the gesture, you didn’t reach for the mug. Tai simply placed it beside you, not mentioning the fact.
You stared up at the orange clouds in the sky, taking a deep breath, letting your arms rest along your sides.
“She went to rehab.” You finally spoke, voice hoarse and rough from having been quiet for so long. “She was fucking arrested, Tai.” A quiet, disbelieving scoff left your lips. “You should’ve said something.”
As if having rehearsed that same conversation in her mind a hundred times, Taissa didn’t even flinch. She simply nodded, eyes now focused on the spot where the sun started to shine over Lake Mohawk, a serious expression on her face.
“Let me guess. Jackie ran her mouth.” She chuckled humorlessly. “Of course it was fucking Jackie.”
You rolled your eyes, impatient, finally sitting up.
“It doesn’t matter where I heard it, or who I heard it from,” you rasped, offended that had even been something she’d thought to question, “what matters is that all of that has been going on and apparently I’m the only one who’s been kept in the fucking dark.”
She stayed silent.
You looked over at her, the hurt evident all over your features.
“All the times we’ve seen each other over the past few years,” you continued, “all the fucking group chats and— and holiday celebrations, and you didn’t think to tell me once? To pick up your phone and give me a fucking call?”
Taissa’s eyes drifted down to her own crossed legs.
“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” She muttered, her dark curls pulled up in a messy ponytail, swinging in the wind in sync with the trees in the background. “She didn’t want you to know, Y/N.”
You swallowed.
What were you supposed to say to that?
After a moment of silence, filled only by the motion of your mouth opening, closing, then opening again, you finally managed to speak:
“Fuck that, Tai.” You scoffed again, feeling your heart pounding in your chest at the reminder that Natalie had been the one to choose to keep that a secret from you in the first place. “You’re my friend. You used to be my best fucking friend. I don’t give a shit what Natalie wanted me to know, you should have told me.”
Taissa looked directly at your face this time, serious, sensing your distress.
“I wanted to. So many times, I wanted to.” She sighed, and, for the first time since you arrived at her family’s lake house the day before, her words felt completely genuine. “The first time I heard about it, I— I was gonna text you, I was, but… shit, man. Van practically begged me not to. Nat was embarrassed. She is embarrassed. And you know she’s always held you to a different standard than everybody else, she cares about your opinion.”
“Fuck that, Tai.” You repeated, firmer this time. “I could give two shits about all that. Sure, we ended things on a shitty note, say, a million years ago. But rehab? A criminal record? This trumps all of that.” A fatigued breath left your mouth as you stared into the distance again. “I had a right to know.”
Tai chewed on the inside of her cheek, drifting her eyes away from you yet once again. She stayed silent for just a moment, before letting her own mug rest beside her body on the deck.
“You did.” She muttered. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, I just— Nat made Van make me promise not to. I just… got caught up in the middle of all that shit. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
You didn’t answer, not at first.
Instead, you let your gaze slide across the horizon, taking in the few birds that flew around the premises and the way the leaves started to appear greener as the sun rose further up in the sky. You were starting to get dizzy with exhaustion, and that only made the turmoil in your head even more unbearable.
Still, you needed your answers. And Taissa seemed like the closest thing you had to them at the moment.
So you took a deep breath.
“Just… tell me everything.” You demanded, your voice softening not on account of acceptance, but of tiredness. “I know now anyway, right? Might as well fill me in on the details.”
Tai nodded weakly, resignedly. You finally gave in and picked up the cup of coffee she’d placed next to you, giving it a light sip.
“I don’t really know how it started,” she began, eyes landing on your face again, conveying a newfound seriousness, “but she got arrested for the first time about a year and a half ago for possession outside of a bar. Add underage drinking to that, the guys at the station were pissed.”
You frowned.
“The guys at the station?” You asked, confused. “How do you know about the…”
And realization dawned upon you. You nodded once, firm.
“Your mom worked her magic.”
“My mom worked her magic.” Tai repeated. You knew her mom was an influential prosecutor back in Wiskayok, neck deep in a network of mutual favors, knowing just what buttons to press and which people to call. “As soon as word got out, I begged her to speak to the sheriff, and they let Nat off without a record as long as she got help with her addiction. That’s when she went to rehab for the first time.”
“But it didn’t work, right?” You intervened. “She went to rehab twice.”
Tai sighed, nodding with resignation.
“Around seven or eight months ago,” she took a sip of her own coffee, “she was caught dealing to some kids behind the bleachers at Wiskayok High. Nothing too… extensive, just a baggy, which helped her case. My mom got into it again. Said they couldn’t charge her for dealing, not with how little she had on her. Still, they were pissed. It was enough not to get her to serve time, but they didn’t let her off without a record that time. At least it was just for possession, so… there’s that.”
You closed your eyes. The soft breeze hit your face, making your skin ache with the cold.
“Shit.”
Tai nodded.
“Yeah. Nat’s mom told Van’s mom and…” She let out a weak breath. “Van got worried. Nat was just… isolating herself, y’know? Apparently she’d stay out for days on end, no one knew where she went, she’d come back all bruised up and thinner… she was deep into it.”
You swallowed. At that point, all the previous exhaustion had morphed into a sheer effort not to cry.
“So Van took, like, a month off from film school and drove back to Wiskayok to try and force some kind of proximity to Nat again.” Taissa looked to the side for a moment, a warm expression crossing her eyes as she said her girlfriend’s name. “It was… hard, at first. Nat really didn’t wanna be helped. But Van insisted. She stayed close, she made herself present. And, somehow, she managed to get Nat to go to rehab again. Willingly, this time.”
With tear filled eyes, you asked:
“But how did she…” You gulped. “Rehab’s expensive, right?”
“We did have to… bend the truth a little.” She answered. “Van talked to Nat’s mom, who made up this lie about coming into some pension from the government from her father’s passing. But I paid for it. Of course, my folks can never dream that I took that much money out of my trust fund, but…” Tai shook her head. “It’s Nat. And she wanted to get better.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to speak as a stubborn tear rolled down your cheek, despite your efforts to hold it in. Without a word, your hand inched closer to Tai’s, fingers wrapping around her palm in silence.
“She’s loved.” She continued. “We… we didn’t tell you, she vocally didn’t want us to, but… we held out our end. We never left her alone. She’s really, really loved. And we made sure she knew it, Van— Van made sure she knew it.”
The tears started flowing more freely now, a mixture of pain for Nat’s fate and the utmost gratitude for the fact that your friends had served as her support system at a time when you hadn't been around.
“And now…” You managed to murmur through the tears. “And now she’s clean?”
Tai nodded.
“Four months sober.” She said, a small, proud smile ghosting over her lips. “For coke, I mean.”
Your red rimmed eyes landed on your friend’s face, understanding the nuance behind her line.
“The drinking.” You mentioned amidst a quiet sniffle. “She’s been drinking a lot, hasn’t she?”
Taissa offered you a weak nod.
“We’re worried she’s gonna fall off again.” She confirmed. “It’s the whole reason why we even put this whole weekend together, anyway. Van says the drinking, it— it helps her cope, but it could also be a way of making it harder for her to stay off… you know. Other things.”
Your heart seemed to break inside of your chest. So, all this time, this entire weekend had been just an excuse to try and save Natalie from herself?
As if reading your mind, Tai continued:
“We orchestrated everything, we just— we wanted her to remember she had this. Friends other than Van, a group of people who care about her and want her around, even with all the shit.” She trailed off, looking down at her coffee mug. “And you… well, you’re kind of our Hail Mary.”
You widened your wet eyes, raised your furrowed brows.
“Your Hail Mary?”
Taissa nodded again.
“You were her favorite. Let’s face it, Y/N. Even before all of this, Nat’s just never really had a very easy life to begin with. I mean, all the shit with her dad, it… it stayed with her.” She said. “But, for some reason, around you… she just lit up. She smiled more brightly, she— she laughed more genuinely. You made her happy in a way none of us ever could.”
“That was a hundred years ago.” You came forward. “That— I hurt her, Tai, I said things I shouldn’t have and…”
“Van said she talks about you sometimes.” Taissa’s fingers tightened around your own. “Good things. Not necessarily, you know, I want her back stuff, but… she just talks about you in a fond way. Like she still cares. Like she still likes you.”
Your chin tightened, and you felt the tears start to rush again.
Tai’s thumb stroked the back of your hand gently.
“Stop torturing yourself thinking you did anything wrong.” Her tone was softer now, calmer. “You didn’t. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have known. You were a kid in love, not some savior who failed. That burden’s not yours to carry.”
Among the tears, you let out a wet laugh — a hint of relief in the middle of all the hurt.
“She talks about me?” You asked, still disbelieving. “Really?”
Tai laughed, too.
“According to Van, it’s happened a few times now.” Her expression was infinitely easier now, and you managed to find a small source of solace in it, even with the severity of the situation. “So just… now you know. You don’t have to… get into that weird situationship thing with her again. We were just hoping you guys would talk. Not about drugs, not about rehab, just about… anything else. Whatever it is that you two talk about. And that maybe you’d work a little bit of your magic on her, too.”
You couldn’t do anything but nod and put your coffee aside, leaning forward to sink into Taissa’s arms without warning.
“Fuck,” you muttered, still completely moved by every part of the story you’d just heard, “yeah. Yeah, I’ll try. Of course I will. Thanks, Tai. No more secrets.”
“No more secrets.” She repeated.
A calm, charged, hopeful silence installed itself upon you as you both stayed like that, arms wrapped around one another, watching the sunrise behind teary eyes. Tai was the one to speak first:
“Now go get some sleep.” She muttered. “I doubt anyone will be up for hours, anyway. And you clearly need it.”
Hours later, you strolled down the hallway as you left the bedroom you shared with Lottie, finding almost everyone in the living room, except for Natalie.
“I’m gonna die.” Jackie whined, head heavy against Shauna’s shoulder as they both sat on the couch, the brunette’s hand gently petting her hair. “Whose brilliant idea was it to have that many mimosas on the first night?”
Shauna chuckled.
“Yours, Jax.” She huffed, soft, casual. “You kept refilling everybody’s glasses like the world was about to end.”
Jackie sighed impatiently.
“You know you’re supposed to stop me when I get like that!”
“You say it like it’s easy.” Shauna retorted, her free hand moving up to rest flat against her own stomach. “But, yeah. Maybe I should’ve tried harder. Certainly would’ve done me some good.”
You stood quietly against the doorframe, somewhere between the hallway and the living room, a quiet smile ghosting over your lips as your eyes wandered through the house in search for the one person you wanted to see the most.
“It would’ve done all of us some good.” Laura Lee chimed in, lifting a cup of coffee up to her lips. “Especially Nat. She’s still blacked out upstairs, I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.”
At the mention of Natalie’s name, something seemed to crack upon Van’s demeanor, and she stood up from her place at the breakfast table abruptly.
“You guys are depressing.” She claimed dramatically. “And you all sound like my grandma. It’s nice out. And you’re all crumpled up in here complaining about a hangover like a bunch of old ladies.”
Jackie raised an eyebrow, lifting her head from Shauna’s shoulder for just a second in order to look at the redhead.
“And what do you suggest we do, Sportacus?”
“I think we should go for a swim.” Van shrugged. “Maybe that will wipe off the dead look from all of your faces.”
Somehow, Van’s convincing powers managed to get everybody out at the lake sooner than you deemed possible. You were desperately tempted to hang back, to just sit on the couch and wait until Natalie inevitably surfaced so you’d be alone together again, but you were worried you’d seem too obvious, and you didn’t want to scare her off. So, reluctantly, you changed into a bikini — even though you had no intention of actually diving into Lake Mohawk —, and sat at a stretcher outside, feeling the water splash onto your skin as Van jumped from the deck with a shout of “CANNONBALL!”, letting the sunrays touch your face and work their best to soothe the worries that ghosted over your head.
And there you stayed for minutes that felt more like hours, telling your friends you’d just rather sit outside while, one by one, everybody else gave in and dived into the lake.
At some point, you heard the sound of the front door of the house sliding through its trails, followed by the constant noise of beat up All Stars stepping against fresh grass. You quickly opened your eyes, seemingly the only one alert enough to notice Nat’s silhouette disappearing behind some trees, a pack of cigarettes tucked faithfully in her hand.
Without a word, figuring you could probably go by unnoticed as everyone distracted themselves with splashing around in the water, you got up and put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt over your swimwear. You didn’t have a plan, but you didn’t feel like you needed one. You just walked away toward where you’d seen the back of Nat’s head vanish into, keeping a safe distance, taking your time.
It wasn’t hard to figure out where she was headed once you noticed how her footsteps stained a well crafted, handmade dirt trail on the floor, and you remembered Tai’s mention of a creek just a few miles away from the house. It must’ve been where she went to smoke with Van the day before, you thought, feet starting to hurt as you found yourself following the path for about thirty minutes before finally spotting her figure.
She didn’t notice your presence, not at first, or, at the very least, she didn’t acknowledge it. Her back was turned to you as she sat on top of a rock, silently staring at a thin, running body of water, and the cigarette smoke she exhaled into the air created that same hazy curtain around her head you’d become so used to admiring back before everything changed. The sight was oddly familiar, and, for a second, you felt as if you were still that naive, young high school kid, lying down quietly as you watched her chainsmoke Marlboro Reds out of your bedroom window.
Your breath hitched in your throat as she brought the cigarette back to her lips, her sharp jaw glistening under the sunrays that managed to sneak between the leaves and frame her beautiful face as if that was their sole purpose. Natalie was a force of nature, and, even after all this time, you still noticed how everything seemed to bend around her, how the trees and the rocks and the running water seemed to gladly settle for second place, knowing they’d never be able to compete with someone who looked like that.
You could look at her for hours, especially after going so long without it. You considered hanging back and just watching her, relishing in her features, listening to her soft breathing among the sound of the water flowing through the rocks like you’d listen to your favorite song. It was tempting, undeniably so, the idea of getting front row seats to the Natalie Scatorccio spectacle, the idea of being a fly on the wall as you just let her be — a guarantee that you’d be able to stay close without scaring her away, without her slipping through your fingers before you could spot it.
But you always seemed to push your luck when it came to Nat.
“Scatorccio,” you called out, soft, gentle, earnest, “still thinking of flying away?”
Your heart pounded like a drum in your chest, but you didn’t falter.
Natalie let out a small, breathy chuckle, turning her neck around to face you better, pulling the cigarette away from her lips.
“You know gravity…” She replied, voice hoarse from the smoke. “Still a bitch.”
“Some things just never change.”
Her eyes raked over you for a moment too long before she turned her head back around.
“Yeah.” She settled her gaze on the water again. “Guess they don’t.”
Good, was all you could think, so she hadn’t totally pulled away. You’d been half preparing to be met with complete silence or the sight of her running for the hills again, so, even though she wasn’t quite as talkative as the night before — with the group setting and the booze —, you took the little interaction as a win.
You took a step forward.
“Mind if I join you?”
She didn’t look at you, but she nodded.
“Yeah, sure. Be my guest.”
And you complied. You walked over a few rocks, wobbling slightly as you moved down to sit beside Nat — courtesy of your shaky knees. Damn her for making your legs so weak.
“It’s pretty nice out here.” You broke the temporary silence, letting your eyes properly take in the view for the first time since you’d arrived at the creek.
“Yeah,” she answered, quiet, simple, “really is.”
Your heart wouldn’t stop hammering inside of your chest as you kept on wondering what to say next. Maybe not coming up with a plan had been a bad idea.
You thought about mentioning the game from the night before, the way Jackie and Shauna still maintained that weird will they, won’t they dynamic even years after the end of high school, the fact that you’d seen a strange bird you couldn’t really name on your way to the creek. You even thought of talking about the weather, which was, at the same time, your safest and most boring option.
Then again, something about Nat just made you want to push your luck.
“I’m really nervous.” You admitted, soft, the words leaving you on their own accord.
Natalie put out her cigarette on the rock, a soft exhale leaving her mouth as she turned her head around to study your side profile.
“Nervous?” She asked. “Why?”
You let out a timid giggle.
“Do you really have to ask?”
She leaned back on the rock, far enough to rest her weight on her elbows.
“Humor me.”
You sighed, your breath coming out shakier than you’d like it to.
“Because of you.” You replied honestly — because of course you did. Nat asked. And you never really knew how to deny her. “You make me nervous.”
She chuckled, and your heart fluttered a bit.
“I never used to make you nervous.”
“Not true.” You retorted. “You used to make me nervous all the time.”
She furrowed her brows.
“It’s not how I remember it.”
“Yeah, well, I used to be better at hiding it.”
She watched you out of the corner of her eye.
“And what changed?”
You studied her, letting your gaze settle on her for a long moment for the first time since you’d gotten this close, averting your eyes as soon as you realized she was watching you back.
“You—” You tried to go for the safest option, not wanting to mention everything Tai had told you in the morning. “It’s just been a long time, Nat.”
She bit on the inside of her cheek, turning away as well. You noticed the way her breath seemed to falter, the way her back stood still. She was also nervous.
“I know what you mean.” She finally said. “But— I mean, it’s stupid, right? There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me. And it’s just you.”
You nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s stupid.”
Silence fell upon you again.
For once, Natalie was the one to break it.
“So, NYU, huh?” She murmured, quiet and gentle, her voice nearly blending with the sound of the running water. “Guess I never properly congratulated you for that.”
You heart ached instantly in your chest at her words. For the first time, you didn’t have to push — what once had been the catalyst of your breakup, the central focus of your future, the gigantic wall that had been built between you and Natalie, was, now, simply a small talk pivot she’d chosen to mention herself.
A sharp reminder that the future wasn’t the future anymore, and whatever you two had been had stayed in the past.
You exhaled softly.
“Worked out in the end.”
“I always knew it would,” she offered, and it felt like a punch to the stomach, “I always knew you’d make it big.”
“You’re being too kind.” You retorted. “I’m still…” You huffed, the words feeling selfish in your mind even before they left your lips. “I still have no idea what I’m gonna do after graduation.”
“You’ve still got some time, right?” You swore Natalie’s gentleness would wind up killing you if she didn’t stop that soon. “No need to panic yet.”
It left a bitter taste in your mouth, sharing your own problems when you’d just found out what her life had looked like over the past three years, but you figured that to be a good, safe strategy. Keeping the focus on yourself would prevent you from slipping, from saying the wrong thing. And, on a more selfish note, you’d missed this — sharing your life with Nat, telling her your deepest thoughts, pouring your heart out and leaning back as she made everything just a little bit easier.
“I guess.” You shrugged. “Don’t really have to settle on anything for good until next year.”
“Well, there you have it. Don’t fuss over it.”
You let out a soft chuckle.
“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to. I fuss over what I’m gonna have for breakfast.”
That earned you a small laugh from Nat, and you felt your heart leap in your chest.
“Right. How could I forget?” She shook her head. “You and your damn ability to overthink every possible scenario.”
“Turns out I never outgrew it.”
She snorted, looking out into the distance.
“Remember how you used to get right before matches?” She asked, and you swore you could spot a hint of fondness ghosting over her expression. “It was like the world was gonna end if we lost. Somehow, you’d convince yourself you’d be the one to blame if anything bad happened.” She shrugged. “Still ended up winning Nationals.”
“You’re partly to blame for that,” you offered back, “Nationals, I mean. You played to win. Even with those Baltimore troglodytes ganging up on you at the quarter finals.”
“Jesus, don’t remind me. They were fucking huge. I think they thought we were supposed to be playing rugby or something.”
You laughed.
“It felt so good to win that day. Even better than the last game for me.”
Your words were honest, and you had to hold back not to overshare, because, by Nationals, Nat and you had already fought. You’d already broken up. You hadn’t talked in weeks, she’d barely even spare you a second look, so there was nothing you could do except watch. You remembered it vividly — those broad-shouldered, tall girls treating her like a punching bag out in the field, the frustration and concern taking over your body as the referee turned a blind eye to all the strikes, the urge to just run forward and shield her from them, to keep her safe, to protect her.
The delicious feeling in your chest when you saw one of them dry a shed tear after Tai scored the winning goal.
“I know. The look on that blonde’s face? Something I’ll carry with me to the grave. I wish I’d gotten a picture of that instead of a medal.”
You chuckled.
“You know, college soccer isn’t that much better. Can’t tell you how many fouls I’ve been on the receiving end of last season.”
Nat turned her head around to look at you, a small smile ghosting over her lips.
“Wait. You still play?”
You grinned.
“Yeah. Division III. It’s not ideal, but…”
“Holy shit.” She seemed genuinely impressed. “Didn’t think you’d actually keep it up.”
“It’s not the same without everyone.” You shrugged. “And no one on campus really cares about us. But… it keeps me in shape, I guess. Gives me something to do.”
Her smile didn’t falter, and you felt an old warmth spread in your chest.
“That’s really cool.”
“You could come and watch us play sometime. If you’re not doing anything.”
The moment you said it, you cursed yourself mentally. You’d moved too fast, you’d scared her off. You’d gotten caught too deeply into the fantasy you’d created, into the idea of being normal around her again, and you’d actually asked her to come see you play a stupid soccer game at your college campus — like a reminder of everything that shattered the two of you back then in the first place. Of the life you had, the one that wasn’t accessible to her. Damn you and your tendency to risk everything around Natalie Scatorccio.
She hesitated, clearly taken by surprise.
“I mean… if, uh…”
You wanted to bang your head against the rocks. You’d been doing so well, easing into the conversation, slipping back into the old banter you’d missed so much. And now you’d ruined everything.
You started to panic.
“I mean—” You desperately tried to fix your situation. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to! I understand!”
“No, Y/N, it’s just that…”
“Seriously, Nat, it’s fine! I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to! Not with everything that you’ve been through lately, and—”
Oh, fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Just shut up. For the love of God. Shut up.
You froze, knowing you’d done the one thing you weren’t supposed to.
And your heart broke into a million pieces as Natalie flinched as if your words had physically punched her, just like those Baltimore girls back in high school.
“With everything I’ve been through?” She asked, eyes hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and you knew you looked stupid.
“Nat, I— Fuck, I just… It’s been a rough few years for everyone and…”
The sound of her bitter laugh cut through your chest, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so small.
“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare just sit there and talk to me like I’m an idiot.” Her voice was the harshest you’d ever heard it. “Who told you?”
“Nat, it doesn’t matter who—”
“It was Tai, wasn’t it?” She shook her head, arms now fidgeting restlessly at her sides, fingers obsessively picking at a loose thread on her shorts. “Of course it was fucking Tai. I knew this was a shitty idea, coming here. Fuck. I should’ve known it the minute you walked through that door.”
“Natalie, please, just listen to—”
“That’s what this is about, huh?” She asked, impatient. “I mean, you followed me into this creek. I’d figured that much out. And here I was, thinking, what, you just wanted to talk. To catch up or whatever.” She scoffed, an ugly sound, heavy and charged. “But no. You were just the one sent to check on the fuck-up, huh? To report back to the group or something?”
You let out a frustrated, desperate huff, reaching to touch her wrist in a last ditch effort to fix things, but she dodged you.
“Just hear me out, Nat, I’m just— I’m worried about you!”
Upon seeing the look on her face, you realized that was the worst possible thing you could have said at that moment.
“Oh, you’re worried about me. You poor thing. You must’ve been just pacing all over your dorm at NYU.”
Your expression fell.
“Nat, don’t do this.”
“Do what? Tell the truth?” She bit back. “It’s just what it is, Y/N. You’re— you’re thriving in your precious fucking life, and I’m happy for you, I am. But don’t look at me with that… condescending look on your face like I’m something for you to feel guilty about.”
You didn’t want to push, you didn’t want to embarrass her any further than you figured you’d already had, but her words stung. While the worry that hammered in your head — that deep, powerful concern that you had for Natalie — did stem from a place of guilt for not having stuck close the first time around, its true roots were the genuine care and love that you felt for her. Back in high school, back in your bedroom on that God forsaken Friday night, your mistake had been not pushing hard enough to make her see it. But you weren’t about to fail her, not again, not this time.
“What— you think I give a shit because I feel guilty?” You asked, unable to keep from raising your voice an octave. “That I’m just trying to clear my conscience? You really think that little of me?”
She exhaled heavily.
“What the fuck am I supposed to think? You don’t say a word to me for three fucking years and all of a sudden you wanna act like no time has passed?” A bitter scoff left her lips. “Talk about everything I’ve been through lately?”
“Oh, please,” you retorted immediately, impatient, “don’t make it sound like I’m the one who’s been shutting you out all this time. You disappeared. You didn’t return anybody’s calls. You’re the one who didn’t wanna be found.”
“Yeah, because you called, huh?” Nat rasped sarcastically. “You left, Y/N. You went to live your perfect little life in New York and never looked back. And, listen, I don’t blame you. If I’d had the chance to get out of that fucking shithole, I would’ve jumped at it, too. But don’t say that you called. Don’t say that you looked for me. You never did, not once.”
Natalie’s words were like swords to your chest. Had your absence really impacted her that much? Did she still care, even momentarily, at any point throughout the three years you spent apart?
“Are you seriously gonna put this on me?” You were exasperated, restless, unsure what to do with your hands. “I’m not gonna apologize for leaving, Natalie. Not when I tried to fix things, not when I tried to talk and you wouldn’t listen. You broke up with me, you told me it was never serious, you didn’t speak to me for weeks when you walked past me at school. You had every chance to show me you wanted me to reach out before I left, and you never took it. I’m not gonna take the blame for this, not by myself, not when you made it very clear you didn’t want me around.”
Natalie turned her entire body toward you, gesturing exaggeratedly with her hands in the way you knew she used to whenever she got nervous.
“I wasn’t gonna ask you to stick around, Y/N! Is that what you think I wanted? To—” She ran her hands through her hair. “To keep you in Wiskayok long enough for you to finally see me as the fuck-up I am? To hold you back from the brilliant fucking life you were always supposed to have?”
She caught herself, hesitating, chest heaving with deep breaths. Her voice came out lower when she spoke again:
“I was pissed off when I said all that shit in your room. I didn’t even mean most of it.” She said, eyes set on her own knees. “But it was for the best. I left your life, and you fucking thrived. I wasn’t gonna pull you back into my shit, not when you finally got everything you’ve ever wanted.”
You turned your body toward her too, lunging yourself forward as if the proximity would somehow make it physically possible for you to get through to her.
“I wanted you, Nat!” You exclaimed, knowing you were already way past the point of sugarcoating anything. “I was in love with you! All I ever wanted was for you to just let me in! But you— you just had to be stubborn, you just had to go and decide for yourself what I could and couldn’t handle. And I’m the condescending one? I’m the one to blame for this fucking three year long silence?”
“It did you good in the end, though, didn’t it? You wanted me, but you didn’t need me. I stayed in Wiskayok and threw my life down the fucking drain, and you’re— you’re good. You’re well off. You have everything that you deserve, you’re gonna have a beautiful life. I would’ve just held you back.”
You shook your head.
“That’s not true. You wouldn’t have held me back.”
“No, Y/N, I would. And that’s okay.” She sighed. “You don’t have to be nice about it.”
“Goddamnit, Natalie, you’re so—” You huffed impatiently. “You’re so fucking frustrating sometimes.”
She scoffed.
“I’m frustrating?”
You didn’t retract.
“Yes. Yes, you are. You keep fucking talking yourself down like you’re worthless. Like you’re a— a liability, a weight waiting to be taken away or something.” You leaned just slightly closer, serious, firm. “Like it’s a fucking crime that someone might actually want you around, that I might actually want you around.”
“You don’t even know me anymore,” she accused, “you wouldn’t want me around, not like this.”
“You can’t speak for me. You can’t just tell me what I would or would not want.” You replied, firm, sincere. “Not when all I’ve thought about over the past three years is this. Seeing you again. Fucking— fucking talking to you, being close to you, having you in front of me like this.”
Nat let out a contained breath.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” She spoke, voice way softer than before, a guarded, almost shy tone that made your heart shatter in your chest. “I’m not… I’m not like that anymore. I’m not like I used to be back then.”
A ray of sunlight snuck through a bed of leaves and hit the side of her face, and you didn’t think you could remember a time when she’d looked that gorgeous.
“I don’t care what changed. I want you around, Nat.” You insisted. “I want you. I care about you. I don’t— I don’t fucking pity you, I don’t feel fucking guilty, I just miss you. I want you around.”
“Y/N…”
“I want you around, Natalie.” You repeated, willing to say it as many times as you had to in order to make her listen. “I want you around. I want you around. I want you around.”
Natalie’s breath hitched, but you leaned forward anyway. You could practically see the resolve leave her eyes, the argument die in her throat. You didn’t budge.
Pushing your luck was something that came naturally when you were around her.
So you reached a hand out tentatively, magnetically, finally touching her as your palm gently met her cheek.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she simply closed her eyes, tortured, relieved, seemingly fighting an inner battle against herself. A sigh left her lips.
“Y/N…” She whispered again, quietly, carefully, a wishful tone she carried like an old secret or prayer.
And, this time, you ran all out of words.
You didn’t care about walking on eggshells anymore, you didn’t care about rehab or jail or the three year long silence you shared. You didn’t care about anything other than the fact that Nat was right there, her cheek warm under your hand, her breath soft against your skin. She was right in front of you, letting you touch her, her now darker hair tickling your wrist almost as if to prove that this wasn’t another dream.
There was nothing left to do. There was nothing left in your mind.
So you lunged forward and finally, finally kissed her.
It was a risk, and you knew it. You half expected to be shoved away, to feel her cold hands on your shoulders, pulling you out of the fantasy and chucking you back into reality.
But the push never came. Instead, her fingers sunk into your hair, her body slid closer to yours, her tongue danced against your lower lip, inviting itself into your mouth.
Natalie was kissing you back.
You wanted to cry. If you thought too much about it, if she dared pull away for even one second, you knew you’d break down, you knew you’d make an absolute fool out of yourself as the tears rolled desperately down your face. But you held back, you didn’t cry, you wouldn’t cry — you wouldn’t ruin the moment. You would never do anything to stop it, not when she was so close to you again, not when you’d just gotten a taste of that same Marlboro and mint flavor you used to crave like a drug, not when her hands slid down your neck and shoulders, still so fucking good, leaving goosebumps in their wake as she proved she still knew your body like the back of her hand.
It did cross your mind for a second that there was a slight chance you might have been hallucinating. Maybe you were so sleep deprived that your brain started making up stuff, and Natalie wasn’t actually kissing you. Maybe you’d slipped and fell on your way to the creek, hitting your head on a rock, and the taste of her lips on yours was nothing more than a coma-induced dream.
But then:
“Fuck, I missed you,” Natalie muttered breathily against your lips, making your heart race violently against your ribcage, giving you the certainty that you weren’t just daydreaming, “I missed you so fucking much.”
You felt as if you were going to explode as the weight of the words she carried sent electric jolts down your spine, making the world stop turning, making everything that wasn’t her touch and her kiss and her voice fade into the background.
She was giving you so much, telling you the words you’d been dying to hear every day for years now, that all you wanted was to make her feel the same.
“I missed you too,” you whispered back, frantic, desperate, cupping her face possessively as you threw a leg over her hips and straddled her lap, “every single day. I never stopped, not for a second.”
That seemed to get her going, because, next thing you knew, her hands were already moving beneath your t-shirt, fingers impatiently picking at the knot that tied your bikini top around your back, wanting and claiming and demanding in a way that felt so Natalie Scatorccio you felt like you were going to faint.
You were stuck in a haze.
Long minutes passed, maybe hours, you couldn’t tell for sure. In all fairness, you didn’t care. It didn’t even cross your mind that the others must’ve definitely noticed your and Nat’s absence by now, not when she moaned against your lips like that, not when she let you pull her shirt off and toss it carelessly aside like it was nothing but an obstacle waiting to be removed.
Your world narrowed down to her, to her fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts, to the way she lay you down so fucking gently and joined your hands together in a tight grip, your back clashing repeatedly against the rock as she explored the most sensitive parts of you like a map she still could read with her eyes closed.
Her words echoed in your head like something out of a dream.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“God, I missed you.”
“You’re driving me insane.”
Nothing mattered, nothing besides Natalie and the way she still worshipped you after all this time, the way she took her time with you and let you take your time with her, too.
The sky was already starting to turn a tender lilac when you finally collapsed beside each other, foreheads damp with sweat and arms trembling with exhaustion from having given one another everything that you possibly could.
Deep in your heart, you braced for a cold shoulder. For her to tell you it had all been a mistake, for a silent gathering of clothes and an awkward sound of zippers being pulled up as you both avoided each other’s eyes.
So, naturally, you felt as if you were going to choke on air as her arm reached around your shoulders and pulled you into her chest, willingly tucking your temple against her collarbone, making you listen to her racing heartbeat.
You closed your eyes, held back a surprised gasp, froze for just a moment.
And, because you’d never deny Natalie Scatorccio anything in your life, you melted into her touch, wrapping an arm around her waist and settling further against her skin. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. Her presence, her warmth, her touch — it was already enough.
After what must’ve been long minutes of silence, she finally spoke up:
“You mind if I smoke a cigarette?”
All you could do was let out an easy chuckle.
“No, go ahead.” You muttered, daring to press a gentle kiss against the bare skin of her shoulder. “I don’t mind.”
Without removing her arm from around your body, Nat reached for her shorts nearby, pulling the pack and the lighter from one of its pockets with a few clumsy moves before successfully managing to get a cig between her lips.
And, just like old times, she smoked and you watched.
In between puffs, she let her eyes follow a bird that flew distantly into the sky.
“Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about flying away.” You teased, only half joking.
To your relief, she let out a breathy chuckle.
“No, no.” She shook her head, blowing the smoke away from your face. “Just… I don’t know. Thinking.”
You looked up, your gaze set on the curve of her jaw.
“Humor me.”
She took a long drag of the cigarette, still looking out into the distance, slowly inhaled the smoke, and finally breathed it out.
“It’s just been a long time.” She said, calm, serene. “You kinda forget how it’s supposed to feel.”
Her soft words left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.
Because, for three years, that’d been all you wanted — Nat, naked, holding you close to her chest while admitting that you were the one she missed, that you were the one she felt good with. That nobody compared, no one even came close.
And, still, the implications of her line gnawed at your heart like a lump you couldn’t swallow. You forget how it’s supposed to feel. Had she been trying to get it from someone else? Had she been suffering through it, putting herself through uncomfortable situations in order to try and spark up an old feeling she’d only ever gotten with you?
How many beds had she been in? How many people had it taken for her to forget?
You closed your eyes and opened them a few times, blinking away the thoughts, thinking back to all of the platinum blondes whose dorms you’d ended up in back at NYU, your desperate, pathetic, pointless attempts to forget about Nat while actively seeking out girls who carried any hint of resemblance to her.
“Yeah.” You finally replied, shifting closer, your grip tightening around her waist just slightly. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Natalie’s free hand slid through your shoulder, fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin in the exact way she used to do before everything changed.
“You make it easy to remember, though.” She took another drag of the cigarette.
A quiet moment went by, peaceful, fleeting. She spoke again:
“You just always feel so inevitable to me.”
Your heart leapt in your chest.
“Inevitable?” You questioned, looking up at her again.
She simply nodded.
“Yeah. And it scares the shit out of me.” A breathy, anxious little chuckle left her lips. “I just…” She sighed. “It’s like I can’t stay away from you. And I’m afraid I’m gonna drag you into my bullshit again.”
There it was.
The moment you’d been waiting for, the one you didn’t think you were going to get. Honesty, vulnerability. A clear path for a conversation — one that she had started, one that you didn’t need to force.
It was Nat. Your Nat. Giving you a chance to walk into her world.
You reached for her hand, the one attached to the arm wrapped around you.
“Then we’ll deal with the bullshit together.” You said, firm, earnest. Not wanting to sugarcoat it. Not shying away from the problem. “Just don’t stay away.”
Natalie hesitated.
“You don’t know how bad it gets, Y/N.”
You leaned up slightly, letting your lips meet her jaw in a tender kiss.
“I don’t care how bad it gets,” you whispered, “I just want you close. However it looks.”
She closed your eyes as you kissed her skin, as if savoring the moment before it was gone.
“I want to be,” her voice came out rough, almost shaky, “I— I wanted to call, you have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out, but I just— I don’t…” She sighed. “I can’t stand the idea of being a burden in your life, I just can’t. And don’t tell me that’s not what I’d be.”
“Natalie.” You pleaded, shifting so you could have a better look at her face, wanting her to meet your eyes. “I’ll tell you that as many times as I have to to make you believe me. You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden. Whatever shit that comes with, I can handle it, I’ll take it all if it means you’ll be a part of my life again.”
She stared back at your face.
“You don’t know what you’re signing up for.” She whispered. “I don’t— I don’t know if I can be that person for you anymore, I can’t… I can barely handle myself right now, let alone someone else, I just… I can’t do expectations, I can’t stand the idea of disappointing you again.”
“You never disappointed me, Nat. You never did.” You gripped her hand more tightly, trying to get through to her, trying to make her believe your words. “And I have no expectations. I don’t want to be something else you need to balance, I don’t wanna make it complicated for you. I wanna make it easy. I want to be there. I want you in my life.”
Natalie let out a shaky breath.
“Let’s just…” She squeezed your hand back. “Let’s do this weekend. Let’s be with each other for now, and see what happens. I can’t— I can’t promise you more than that, not right now.”
As much as you wanted to beg for more, you knew you needed to take it slow, you knew Nat was still too fragile to give you what you wanted, and there was no point pushing. After three years of silence, after three years of nothing, you figured having her for the weekend was already a step, a big one considering where you’d started. Plus, you couldn’t say no, you never could — not when it was her asking.
“Let’s do this weekend.” You repeated, gentle, reassuring. “And we’ll see what happens.”
Natalie smiled, soft and contained, but so undeniably beautiful you felt your knees go weak.
“Deal.”
And she pushed her head up from where it lay on the rock, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer in order to press a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t heated or hungry or desperate this time — it was tender and slow, sincere, unrushed. A vow that, at least for now, everything was okay. And, for a second, everything seemed to fall into place.
You fell into a peaceful silence, curling against her side again, letting her fingers thread through your hair in gentle motions as you ran your own up and down the skin of her waist.
She finished her cigarette, kissed you again a few times. You couldn’t do anything but let her.
Eventually, her voice sounded out again.
“I don’t wanna be the one to put an end to this,” she said, that old playful, amused tone back in her voice like no time at all had passed, “but these fucking mosquitoes are eating me alive here.”
You laughed.
“Can’t really blame them.” You teased, pressing one final sweet kiss against her cheek. “Come on, let’s get dressed. The others are probably wondering where we went off to by now, anyway.”
The walk back was calm. Your hand kept on brushing Nat’s, and she never pulled away, which you considered another small win amidst the light conversation.
Once you reached Taissa’s family’s house, you spotted all the other girls sitting down in a circle around a bonfire in the front yard, bottles and red cups in hand, the sound of the crackling fire and laughter distracting them from your and Natalie’s silhouettes appearing in the distance.
Ever the observant one, Van was the first one to notice. Before you could even try to say anything, you saw the raise of her eyebrows, the way she quickly sat up and nudged Tai’s arm, the shit-eating grin that appeared on her face.
You knew you were fucked.
“Bow chicka wow wow…” She teased, laughing unashamedly, making all heads turn in your direction. “Guess you two finally figured out the way back to the house. We were about to send a search party.”
Your first instinct was to freeze, stopping in your tracks completely as you braced yourself once again for Natalie to pull away.
But she didn’t.
“You know how it gets in those woods,” she said, ever so easily, ever so lightly, exactly like she used to all that time ago, “next time we’ll bring a map.”
And she wrapped an arm around you.
Your entire body burned with something stronger than passion, stronger than affection. You were happy, so fucking happy you could just burst into tears — because, for once, everything seemed to fall into place; because, for the first time in so long, Natalie actually seemed comfortable in her skin, leaning into your presence, embracing the company of your friends instead of shying away from it.
So you just laughed.
“Come on, you two,” Taissa waved both of you over with a knowing smile on her lips, shifting closer to Van on the bench they sat on, making room for you and Nat to fit, “join us. We’re just drinking and talking shit about people from high school.”
“My two favorite things.” You joked, letting Natalie guide you, sitting down between her and Tai on the wooden bench.
Lottie was quick to offer you both a kind smile, reaching into the cooler to grab two cold bottles of beer, motioning to hand them over to the both of you.
You took your own, but, to your surprise, Nat didn’t move.
“Nah, thanks, Lott.” She shook her head. “I’m taking it easy tonight.”
As you heard her words, your heart seemed to grow inside of your chest, a warm, all consuming feeling that only made it harder to hide the grin on your lips.
Because Nat was trying. You knew it must not have been easy, you knew there was no guarantee she’d keep it up. But she was trying.
And you knew you had something to do with that.
The night rolled by in that same unworried, light tone, with Natalie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders without faltering all through it, the sound of her laugh becoming more natural and less like a rare occurrence as the hours passed. Slowly, yet inherently heartwarmingly, the proximity increased, the barriers came down, the ease installed itself around the group just like it used to.
Once everybody started to collect themselves and head back inside, Lottie didn’t say a word as she brushed right past you and followed Laura Lee upstairs, choosing to bunk with her for the night, leaving the room down the hall free for you and Nat to share.
Your heart seemed to burn even hotter in your chest when she completely ignored the bed across the room, the one Lottie had slept in the night before, and sunk into the mattress beside you with a soft sigh, her lips immediately meeting the back of your head.
You shifted even closer and closed your eyes, her breath warm and steady on your neck.
For the first time in three years, sleep came easily to you.
The next morning consisted of a hurdle of suitcases scattered across the living room, the sound of closing trunk doors and the bittersweet exchange of hugs and goodbyes on the Turners’ front porch.
One by one, everybody started to leave — Misty drove away on her Fiat 500, Shauna and Jackie left together in the brunette’s car, Lottie and Laura Lee followed shortly after, each taking their own ride.
For once, you didn’t rush. You didn’t feel the need to wake up at 4 in order to avoid traffic, you allowed yourself to take your time as you got dressed next to Natalie, as you had your breakfast and finished packing your things. You were in no hurry to leave.
Once you finally closed the trunk of your car, you spotted Nat’s dark locks glistening underneath the late morning sunrays, bouncing gorgeously as she slowly made her way to you.
“So…” She said, a small, conspiratorial smile on her lips as she leaned her shoulder against the side of your car. “Drive safe.”
You matched her expression, stopping in front of her, letting your weight rest on the shut car door as well.
“Always do.” You replied, soft, genuine. “And you, text me when you get home. Just so I know Van didn’t drive you guys into a ditch or something.”
She chuckled.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Good.” You nodded. “I’ll be waiting, then.”
The words hung heavy between the two of you, because, in that moment, both of you knew they weren’t just about knowing Nat had made it home safely. They weren’t just a playful jab at Van’s questionable driving skills. They were a promise, an agreement, a mutual effort to try and stay in touch, to not let this weekend go in vain. And Natalie was willing to try.
That alone was enough for you.
“Alright, I should get going now.” You said, moving away from the car, straightening yourself up.
“Yeah. Yeah, don’t let me keep you.” She whispered, that soft half grin still present on her face, mimicking your motions. “Bye, Y/N.”
“Bye, Nat.”
But neither of you moved.
It didn’t feel right, not after the day before, not after the night that followed it.
So you just stayed there, face to face on the Turners’ luxurious front yard, stretching the goodbye out until the last possible minute, exchanging lingering glances in order to make sure you’d remember each other’s features for whatever time you were about to spend apart next.
To your surprise, Nat was the one to break the silence.
“You know,” she muttered, “I, uh… I always wanted to see New York. So next time you have a game or something, just… give me a text. Maybe I’ll make a trip out of it.”
Your heart filled with warmth.
You knew she had a long way to go. You knew addiction was a rough journey, one that consisted of highs and lows, and that the path you were about to embark on wasn’t going to be easy.
But you didn’t care about easy. You didn’t care about light. The only thing that mattered was her, Natalie, offering to be a part of your world, inviting you to be a part of hers.
So you just smiled, reached out a hand, let your fingertips tentatively meet her wrist.
“Yeah.” You finally answered, hopeful, genuine. “Yeah, I will.”
