Barista • h.s

7

NATALINA

The drive was short and silent. I had my head leaned up against the window, knees tucked to my chest, without the energy to talk for the whole ride. I could tell Harry wanted to ask, and after calling him this late at night he deserved an answer.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked me as he closed and locked the front door, gesturing me to sit in living area with a big window that looked outside.

"Coffee, please." I replied, directing my attention to the stars outside.

"Milk or sugar?"

I shook my head no. After working at a coffee shop for nearly a year, caffeine really didn't effect me anymore. A coffee at 11PM was a normal thing.

A few minutes passed and he sat down in the chair next to me, setting our coffees on the side table and handing me a blanket.

"What happened?" He asked me.

I sighed. I didn't answer for a bit, continuing to stare out the window. I finally turned to face him.

"You remember how I told you I don't date?"

He nodded.

"I told you it was a long story, one for a different time. I didn't actually plan on ever telling you, you know. I honestly thought you were just a cute man who I'd never see again. You said you'd come back, but I didn't believe you." I directed my attention back to the stars.

"Even if those weren't the circumstances, and say I did end up getting to know you, I sure as hell didn't plan on telling you right away."

"Things change though, right?" He asked me.

I nodded. "Yesterday was a different day," I sighed.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I don't want to. I do have to, though. You deserve to know why I call you freaking out the way I do. So, I'm going to tell you. It's a long story, and it's a rough one."

He only nodded, giving me the chance to continue.

I looked at him and started to laugh. "Sorry, this isn't funny. I think I'm just uncomfortable. Only four hours ago I was wondering if I'd ever be able to tell you this story."

He gave me a small smile, and I took a deep breath.

"I'm from Tennesse, I've told you that. Born and raised, though I don't think it ever really felt like home. I was so different from everyone I knew, my entire family, every friend I ever had. I've never fit the souther bumpkin image. I always dreamed of moving here, actually. I had somewhat of a hard time making friends in high school. I had a lot, but I really didn't trust a soul - until I met him."

I took another deep breath. Harry, noticing my shaking hands, took hold of one of them to calm me down. I shot him a small smile, then continued.

"Matthew Barnett. At the time I met him, I felt like that was all I needed. I finally felt like I was at home. Our relationship progressed quickly - he was 18 and I was 16. He took my virginity the first time I ever hung out with him, but I didn't mind. I thought that was normal. I also thought I was falling in love with him. While in high school, I excused every horrible act he did to me by thinking, 'we're just in high school. He's young, he's never been in a relationship, he didn't mean it!'

"No matter how many other girls he was having sex with, no matter how many times he publicly embarrassed me, no matter how many times he screamed in my face and made me cry - I still thought I loved him. There was nothing he could do that would make me fall out of love with him."

I hadn't realized I was crying until Harry wiped a tear from my face.

"Sorry, I-"

"Don't you dare apologize, Natalina." He quickly cut me off.

I nodded. "Our relationship stayed just like that, he continuously broke my heart, screaming at me every day, cheating on me every week, threatening to break up with me every month. For two years, until we were both out of high school. I decided to go to UT in Knoxville, about two hours from my hometown. He didn't like that. Again, threatening to break up with me - but this time more sinister. He claimed he had fallen so deeply in love with me by that time, that he would kill himself if I went away for school.

"Two hours. It was only two fucking hours away. I ended up going anyway, much to everyone's surprise. We fought more than ever my first year of college, and as expected, he convinced me to come home for college. I was going go the same local school as him, though he ended up dropping out. Surprisingly, our relationship wasn't half bad after that. For two years, I think I was almost happy with him. Before senior year came, I told him I wanted to move away. Far away. I never specified Oregon, I just said to the west coast.

"It was just a plain old night, where we were talking about the future. I said this, and it felt like the mood immediately changed. I still remember every second - the way he sprung up off the couch, looking at me with what seemed like pure evil. Threatening to kill himself if I moved, once again. This time it was much more evil. I tried to calm him down, explaining that moving away was all I ever wanted, how he could come with me, though I think deep down I never wanted him to.

"This only made him angrier. That night was the only time he ever hit me. Made up for all the other times he could have, though. He beat me to a fucking pulp, and once he was finally done I ran home and started packing my shit. My parents didn't even believe me, could you believe that?" I scoffed. "They said I probably started it. Couple of weird fucking boomers. They loved him, they couldn't imagine him ever doing something so cruel.

"He wouldn't leave me alone for an entire year. I moved here, got a job in some tiny boutique, and finished my degree online. He harassed me the entire way, until one day - he just stopped. I can't even lie when I say a part of me, a hopeful part of me, thought he'd died. He left me alone, and I was in the clear. I got a new job that I loved, moved into a less shitty apartment, finally started making friends. I wasn't too scared to go out and have fun. I was free... until now."