Page 25 of Noticing Natalie

“For what?”

“Nat-a-lie,” she draws out the syllables. Uh, oh, I’m in trouble. “To catch up with him. To see him again. To have him introduce your best friend to his famous best friends.”

“Ah, your true intentions have been revealed. You want me to re-befriend Matthew for your benefit.”

She grins. “Of course. But I also think it would be good for you. You were mad about him in high school and were crushed by what you thought he’d done. Maybe this is a chance to heal from all of that?”

“I have healed,” I argue weakly. Even I’m not convinced by the tone in my voice. “It was so long ago.”

“I was there, Nat. You were crushed by what happened with him, and sometimes I wonder if that’s why you have trouble letting men close to you now?”

“I’ve had boyfriends and relationships since then!”

“Yes, but whenever any of them are in danger of developing into something…more, something real, you bail out. It’s like you fear letting them too close. Of trusting them with your heart.”

When did Bianca become so wise? We’re both twenty-two years old; shouldn’t we still be trying to figure this all out?

“Fine. Whatever. Maybe I am guarded, but it has nothing to do with Matthew and everything to do with being super picky.”

She laughs. “You are picky. And rightly so, you deserve only the best.”

My heart warms at her unconditional support. She sees me as only a best friend can, loving me, flaws and all.

“Thanks, B.” I yawn so loudly my ear pops. “I think the best for me is someone a little more realistic than Matthew Barkly.”

She gives me an enigmatic smile and wags her finger at me. “You can get any man you want, Natalie Henderson. Mark my words, if you want Matthew Barkly, he’ll be yours. Just like he was in high school.”

I shake my head and wave her goodbye. When she’s like this, there’s no reasoning with her. And clearly tonight she’s gone a little crazy.

Fancy thinking that I had Matthew back in high school. Or that I’d have even a remote chance of getting him now. He’s a superstar on and off the soccer field, and there’s no world in which he’d spend a minute noticing me. It’s so ludicrous that I push it to the back of mind, determined to leave Matthew where he belongs, back in the recesses of my mind, where he can’t get close to my heart ever again.

CHAPTER 8

The next morning I’m stuck adulting. You know the things that used to just happen when you’re a kid and then you grow up and realise someone was actually doing them all? Like your laundry, buying the food you eat, filling up the family car with petrol. Those are the things I now leave until the very last minute because I hate the mundanity of it all. And although I live at home and have family to support me, there’s no way I’m letting either my mother who works a forty-hour week or my Yia-Yia who is seventy-two years old do any of these things for me. As the youngest, sprightlier version of the women-folk living in this house, it’s my duty to do this and more.

So that’s where I am now, in the grocery store, deciding between sweet potato fries and normal potato fries. I know which one tastes better, but I’m recalling some new research that suggests I should eat the inferior sweet potato that has more calories and less crunchiness. Which sucks. I’m also fielding messages from Amy, who is begging me to go out with her tonight.

AMY: please don’t tell me you’re staying at home watching Selling Sunset with your grandmother again tonight.

AMY: It’s Saturday night!

I cringe. She knows me too well. Currently in my trolley is a packet of chocolate chip muffins to go perfectly with a TV night on the couch.

NATALIE: I’m busy. Leave me alone.

AMY: Come on! It’ll be a girls’ night. I’m bringing Lilly along.

Lilly is Amy’s childhood best friend, her Bianca, and she’s a chaotic mess. I love her.

NATALIE: Lilly’s going?

AMY: Yes, she’s my trump card.

Sighing, I take the muffins out of my trolley and replace them with a bag of Yia-Yia’s favourite chips. Hopefully, this will lessen the blow when I cancel our plans for the night ahead. Though, come to think of it, she’ll be thrilled that I’m going out. More chance of me finding a husband that way.

NATALIE: Fine, I’ll come out for one drink.

AMY: Two!

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