The Last Round (6 page)

Week two. She asked me a bazillion questions and I answered most with one-word answers. She nagged and picked, until she finally got something out of me. And much to my surprise, she succeeded to a point. I told her I lived in North Philly with my mom and I had no fucking clue who my father was, because he walked out on us before I took my first steps. She was also able to get more about my life, but not most of it. She talked so fucking much at times it was annoying, yet I was curious of the things she had to say.

By week four, people stopped staring at us and just thought of us as an item, and it didn’t bother me as much. She talked about school and how much she couldn’t stand her classes and she wished she could take an acting course, but her parents felt it was a waste of money. They needed to save for her college tuition and she had to pick a more respectable profession, such as a lawyer or nurse or something where she can build a career and have stability. She admitted to me how sometimes she stood before a mirror in her bedroom, behind closed doors, and performed different scenes from several books she loved.

Week eight. She was able to break through my shell, to a point. I got used to her being around. I was beginning to look forward to our daily chats at lunch and several meetings at the locker we shared. It wasn’t so bad sharing a locker with her. She’d sometimes leave me notes, nothing affectionate, it was more like jokes. I never left any for her, but I looked forward to hers. One day, she left her house number on a note with the words scribbled on it,
Call me anytime if you miss me. XX, Natalia
. Although she gave me her telephone number, I didn’t call.

At the end of week nine, she called me, late at night. I had no clue how she got my number, but she woke up my mother. My mom, weak and fragile, knocked on my bedroom door with the largest smile I’ve ever seen on her face. “Julian, there’s a girl on the phone for you.” She beamed.

“Mom, get back in bed.” I stood and led her back to her room. Once she was settled, I snatched the phone from the table stand.

“Who the hell is this?”

“It’s me, Natalia. I need to talk to you.”

“How did you get my number, Natalia? Don’t ever call me this late again.” I slammed the phone down. She was nuts. I felt bad for yelling at her, but my mother needed all the sleep she could get and she woke her up. That pissed me off.

The first day of week ten, Natalia wasn’t at the locker, or even at lunch. I figured she was upset after our call on Friday night, but when I took a quick glance over at her sister’s table, Natalia wasn’t in sight. When day three rolled around and there was still no sight of Natalia, I approached her sister’s table. She looked up at me with wide eyes and her friends stopped what they were doing to just stare. You’d think I was a circus freak or some shit.

“Where’s your sister?”

“Um, home, sick. She has the flu.”

Brows dipping, my stomach sunk. “Is she okay?”

“The doctor gave her medication and the week off of school.”

“What about her homework?”

She raised a skeptical brow. “Her teachers are giving me all her assignments to take home to her.”

“Where do you live?”

“Excuse me?”

“I wanna send her something.”

Viviana hesitated for a moment, then when she realized I wasn’t any harm to her or her sister, she scribbled down the address.

I instantly felt ill; after a visit with the nurse and approval from my mother, I had an early dismissal. But instead of going home, I stopped by a local store and then straight to Natalia’s house.

I wasn’t certain why I was nervous to knock on her damn door. I wasn’t afraid she’d send me back from where I came from. Maybe I was. The last time I spoke with her, I yelled at her and ended our call. Maybe she was furious with me. Maybe she could care less to see me. Either way, I stood on her front porch and knocked on the red painted door. One loud knock was all it took. She didn’t come to the door quickly and I almost turned around and left, but she opened it.

Her dried lips curled into a weak grin, her nose was red, and her eyes were puffy and watery. She had her hair piled up in a high bun, with strands poking out in every direction. A pink fleece wrapped around her body, enveloping her from neck to ankle, a pair of fluffy bunny slippers covered her feet. She was a hot mess.

A hot-beautiful-mess.

“Well, well. What have I done right in my life to have Julian Rios grace me with his presence?”

I hold back a grin and instead easily lift the brown paper bag in my hand. “I brought you soup.”

“Is it chicken noodle?”

“Only the best. A can of Campbell’s.”

Natalia laughed, but then her face twisted into pain as she grabbed her chest and started to cough. “Are you okay?” I rushed out.

Nodding, she waved for me to come in.

I hesitated, not certain if I’m even welcomed by her family.

Her hacking finally under controlled, she reached for my arm and tugged me in. “I’m alone. My parents are at work. How’d you get out of school early?” she asked, treading toward the kitchen. I followed behind, checking out her home. It was simple, nice and cozy. Better than anything I’ve ever grew up in. My house was like a fucking dollhouse, small as hell, but we didn’t need much. It was just my mother and I.

“I faked sick.”

“Ah . . . you better be careful, you might get your wish, being near me.”

“I don’t mind. Besides, I rarely get sick. I take my daily dose of vitamins.”

She smiled, digging into a drawer and removing a can opener. “Well, I’m glad. I learned my lesson; I would never wish this on anyone. Want some?”

“No, here let me take care of that.” I rushed over beside her, grabbed the can of soup, and poured it into a bowl. Then I popped it in the microwave.

While we waited for the soup to heat up, we stood there in awkward silence. Or maybe I was the only one that felt awkward. I shoved my hands into my front pockets, slightly hunching my shoulders.

She eyed down my gesture. “Are you nervous?”

“Me? Nervous?” I chuckled, lightly. “What’d make you think that?”

She smiled. “No reason.”

“Nice house,” I said, still standing in the middle of the kitchen. I was certain I looked like a douchebag.

“Thanks.” The microwave dinged and I removed the bowl of soup. It was hot, so I quickly set it on the counter.

“It’s really hot,” I warned. Natalia grabbed a plate from the cabinet and placed the bowl on top of it, so it wouldn’t burn her fingers and grabbed a spoon.

“Come on.” She coughed, treading out of the kitchen and down a hall. I followed again. We entered a room and I only assumed it was hers. It was a nice size and the walls were painted clean white, but it was the only neutral color in the entire space. She had dark purple furniture and a bright pink comforter. You know, it didn’t surprise me. It matched her personality.

Natalia sat on her bed Indian style with her back pressed against the headboard. I sat too, but as far away from her as I could, by the edge of the bed.

“Thank you for the soup.” She smiled. Even with tired watery eyes, she still managed to smile bright as if all was right with the world. She managed to do that and make everyone around her feel the same.

I rubbed the back of my neck with a hand and compressed my lips. “Look, about the other night. When you called?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, followed with a cough.

“No, I wanted to apologize.” I tilted my head so I could show her how sincere I was. “My mom . . . she’s . . .” Trying to find the right words to explain, I shut my eyes in frustration.

“I know, Julian.”

Meeting her gaze once again, confusion written on my features, I asked, “What do you know?”

“She’s sick.” Swallowing, Natalia placed the soup on her nightstand and looked down at her fingers twisted with one another.

“How’d you know that?”

“You said to not call so late. So I called again Saturday morning. You weren’t home, but your mom was. She said you went to the boxing gym. I didn’t know you boxed, by the way!” She narrowed her eyes and just as quickly they softened. “Your mom and I talked for a little while. I told her about me. She was curious.” She laughed, her golden brown eyes sparkled. “She told me about her. How she was diagnosed with lung cancer about a year ago. How she’s gotten weaker and how you’ve been taking care of her. She wanted me to call back again the next day, when you were out with your aunt. I did. She liked to talk to me; she said she doesn’t get a chance to meet many people these days. So we’ve been speaking every day, just for a little bit before you come home from school.”

“You guys were talking behind my back?”

“I told her I wanted to tell you. I didn’t feel it was right. It felt like I was keeping a secret from you and I didn’t like it. She said we’ll tell you eventually, but for now she likes the company. She was afraid you’d push me away.” Natalia looked down into her twisted hands; within that moment I saw her expression sadden. “Would you? Would you push me away, Julian?”

I moistened my lips, they suddenly felt dry. “Do you like talking to her?”

“Oh yes.” She lifted her head, a smile brightened across her face. “She’s so interesting and unique and bright. She’s a very sweet woman.”

I nodded. “Then no, I won’t push you away. Would you like to meet her?”

Her smile widened. “Really? I would love to.”

“Well, let’s get you better and strong. She really can’t be around anyone sick. Her immune system is really weak and it would do damage to her.”

“Okay! Now, let me hear about this boxing stuff. You’ve been keeping a secret from me, Mr. Rios, and I don’t appreciate it!” She joked.

I grinned. “It’s just a small gym by my house. The owner trains me for free, in exchange for cleaning up the place. He’s also dating my aunt.” I shrugged. “He says he thinks I have what it takes to be great, but I need to work on my anger problems.”

Natalia gasped. “You? Anger problems? No! Whatever does he mean?”

“Smartass!”

We laughed.

I think that was the day my heart skipped a beat for Natalia.

I remember staring at her as a seventeen-year-old boy and not
really
knowing what feeling it was that I had felt that day. It was a rush of
something
, a gust of emotions slowly filling the deepest cracks within me, and it was then that I didn’t want to let her go.

I still don’t want to let her go.

Natalia

MIND RACING, I
rummage through my suitcases. I know it’s just a casual dinner with a co-worker, but I still want to make a great first impression. My sister ended up leaving work early after all, and when she arrived at our mom’s, it was as if we were never apart for the past year. We talked and caught up on a lot. So much so, I completely lost track of time. Now, I only have an hour to get ready.

Lifting a black dress, I study it and then toss it aside.
Too dressy
. I really want to be comfortable since I’m exhausted from the flight and I would much rather stay in, snuggled up on the hotel bed, watching Netflix until I pass out. A white, plain T-shirt catches my sight and I lift it, examining it. My eyes scroll over to the caramel leather biker jacket I had placed on the chair.
Hmm
. I decide casual is the best way to go for tonight, so with ripped jeans, the shirt, jacket and brown leather boots, I think it’s an appropriate outfit. If I dress it up with a layered gold necklace, a few gold bangle bracelets and drop earrings, it’ll look professional, casual yet not trying too hard to impress.

Within an hour I’m dressed, my hair is set in waves, and my makeup is finished to perfection. All that’s left is a few spritzes from my favorite perfume and I can be on my way. I text Liam that I’m ready and I will meet him at the restaurant in five minutes. Just as I grab my purse, my phone vibrates. It’s Julian.