Page 14 of Summertime Friends

Even with the popularity she’s gained, I love that her brand is still the same. She’s still the same Natalie I met when I was seven. However, now she’s also the person you go to for all things travel and fashion. Her 875k followers can attest to that.

It’s almost midnight, and sleep hasn’t found me yet. I tried reading a book, but my mind couldn’t focus on anything other than Liam.

My phone buzzes, and for a split second I hope it is him. It’s not.

Natalie: I’m back on Tuesday.

Natalie: Come over on Wednesday?

KK, see you then.

7

EMERSON

SixSummers Ago

Standing in the Leonardo di Vinci International Airport baggage claim, Natalie turned to me. “Promise me that this is our summer.”

“Of course,” I told her.

“No.Our summer. No parents. No rules. No boundaries.” She dug through her purse and pulled out a crumpled-up piece of notebook paper. “I created one of these for each of us last week. A bucket list—”

“You mean our itinerary?” I cut in.

She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “No. This is a girl’s bucket list! Like the ultimate best friend list? Things we should do while we are here.”

Natalie passed me the list. My eyes went expressive reading it.

“Boys?” She shrugged. “You’re joking.”

She stared into my eyes, grabbing onto the top of my shoulders. “I am completely serious. See this face.”

I laugh at her. She’s trying her hardest to be serious, but Natalie’s never been one for serious faces or seriousness. It’s as if her face won’t let her express anything but a smile.

She’s always been little Miss Sunshine. From head to toe, she glows. Light blonde hair that’s mere inches from her butt and curls for days. Legs up to her brown eyes. Golden skin, and now that it’s summer and we’ve spent our days outside? Game over for the rest of us. She’s a walking European goddess.

She is a magnet for eyes. Naturally, everyone’s eyes and bodies gravitate toward her. It happened in high school, and college was no different. She pretends that she doesn’t recognize how beautifulshe is, but seeing as I’m her best friend and know her better, she knows. She enjoys it. She weaponizes it into a currency for her benefit.

It’s easy to fall for her. No one is immune to her.

Me, on the other hand? You’d be lucky to win a smile from me.

It’s one of the reasons I enjoy our friendship. We are complete opposites, and it can be quite a puzzle when trying to understand us, but we work.

Natalie’s made good on her bucket list for us; honestly, it’s impressive.

I have—not.

Natalie tells me I need to loosen up and that my standards are too high. I don’t disagree. But what’s wrong with having high standards? After my dad walked out on my mom (and me), I got scared that I wouldn’t be enough. I wasn’t enough to keep them together; how would I be enough to keep any relationship together? Natalie is an outlier.

Years. It took years for my parents to become amicable with each other. They had split custody of me, which my mother’s lawyer had to fight for. Claiming a parent should never abandon their kid when my dad was willing to give me up with the marriage. Those years of being required to visit on weekends and holidays were a battle. I wasn’t truly welcomed in either home. Like a broken record, I thought I was the scratch. Maybe if I had been a better daughter, they would have loved me enough, and that wouldn’t be how I spent the rest of my life growing up.

It broke something in me—the idea of love. My parents instilled in me that it was fake and non-existent. This preconceived notion flowed into my other relationships. I’d let myself get close to people, try to be everything they’d want, and when things got close enough that someone might love me or me them, I’d mess it up.

Actually, I don’t think it’s high standards at all. I think it’s childhood trauma.

I’m drawn out of the memories when Natalie asks me what type of wine I’d prefer. I point to the glass on the menu.

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