Chapter 11

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

NATIE

Me: Have you started the book yet?

Santos: I'm already on chapter nine.

Me: Wow! You're a fast reader.

Santos: I like big books and I cannot lie.

Me: LOL!

[four days later]

Santos: With that book done, I've been going to the library to occupy my leisure time.

Me: That sounds heavenly.

Santos: When I need respite from the onerous moments at work or the banal repetitiveness of everyday tasks, a good book helps me persevere.

Me: You keep giving me reasons to keep reading!

Me: Working with my parents stresses me out.

Santos: Really? I was under the impression you loved your resort.

Me: I do.

Me: It's complicated.

Santos: With parents, it often is.

[three days later]

Santos: Home is an enigmatic concept for me.

Me: How so?

Santos: You never left Newlantic, so you're thoroughly rooted in the town.

Santos: Now my childhood home is owned by my grown-up kid sister.

Santos: In those four walls, I rarely felt the succor or contentment that the media often portrays.

Me: You sound like my brother. He left for years. Meanwhile, I only went away for college for a small stint.

Santos: And how was that?

Me: Shiba's Seaside nearly collapsed without me there.

Santos: (sad face emoji)

[two days later]

Santos: I may need to do a speech for Santana's wedding.

Me: Oh?

Santos: And I'm nervous, bordering on tremulous.

Me: What do you mean? You write so well.

Santos: Have you forgotten the mandatory verbal portion of a speech? I have no aptitude for the loquacious arts.

Me: Then you make the speech and I'll read it.

Me: Or better yet I'll coach you on how to talk!

Santos: I've tried for years.

Me: I'll help you flex your oral skills.

Santos: Innuendo or not, I'll take your assistance, Mr. Shiba.

Me: (winking emoji)

[one day later]

Me: I wish Johnny had stayed in town all these years.

Me: But we're tight now.

Santos: Now I feel contrite having taken up nomadic habits far from Santana all these years.

Me: No, I'm using you as a contrast.

Me: You kept in touch with your sister all these years. You're a great brother.

Me: You're also an awesome friend.

Santos: Thanks.

Santos: And for what it's worth, you're a good brother, too.

Santos: At the risk of excessive adulation, you're also a great friend, Natie Shiba.

Me: (smiley face emoji)

I s it possible to become addicted to texting someone? Because I think that's my life now. I'm lying on my stomach in bed, letting my arms dangle as I fiddle on my phone. Typically I'd be jotting down board game ideas in the Single Gamer's Society group chat. But, for once, they're not who's getting me through the day.

It's Santos. Every day for the past two weeks, we've been chatting relentlessly via text. When he said his stutter held him back, he wasn't kidding. Santos is so intelligent, so eloquent with words, and so funny. Initially, it was book chatting, and us wishing the characters would make the right choices. Then we began recommending older books. He has so much to say!

And I know it's him, because we've evolved into sending photo messages as well. Nothing dirty; at first, I showed him this weird stain I got on my work shirt that looked like the Hulk. Then he sent me a photo of his lunch and how his salad resembled two of the X-Men. Now whenever we eat, we send each other food pics. He sends me book memes when I've had a rough day, and we chat about our personal lives as well. We're really connecting now that the miscommunication is out of the way.

Have I stared at each of his selfies, my thumb dragging across the screen, before falling asleep late most nights? Maybe.

He's just so pretty. He may have no hair on his scalp and a slight pudge around his waist nowadays, but he's still gorgeous. In all his selfies, his dark-stubbled jawline is exquisite. His gray work polo shows off his biceps in the sexiest way.

I thought taking a long walk on the beach with him was the most blissful experience, but chatting with him regularly has me deep in crush-mode. The one person I thought I couldn't like, the one I swore didn't deserve my attention in high school, the one who's always been way out of my league…I'm starting to like him.

But I treated him like garbage. Can he ever look past our teenage years and be interested in me, too?

Santos: I loved the last book's theme of existentialism. The original Frankenstein book utilized the idea, but this monster romance novel did it in a more comedic, lighter tone. More palatable to modern audiences, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. When who you are is incomprehensible and your purpose is ill-defined, that's a solid basis for such a universal conflict that transcends generations.

Me: Now you're trying to make me feel stupid.

Me: Mr. Big Words.

Santos: What's wrong with being articulate? Hopefully I'm not garrulous. (smiley face emoji)

Me: You're not long-winded, my friend. I actually like your view on the book themes. And now I want to re-read it.

Santos: I'm honored that you're enjoying my notes, my friend.

Santos: You're probably the first person I can have these kinds of chats with.

Me: And you never forget your first.

Santos: (winking emoji)

I flip in my bed and sigh. I can't tell if he's serious about flirting or not. I'm right back to being a lovestruck preteen, except I ought to be more mature than this. With all the stress at the resort, Santos feels like an escape. I don't ever want to stop chatting with him, and I'm so grateful he decided to forgive me for how I bullied him as a kid.

I can't go to my friends with this burgeoning crush, at least not yet. I complained to them about my contentious past with Santos several months ago. The Single Gamer's Society would give me so much crap for dating the guy I told them I used to hate. But it's not even that—I'm not ready to have my bros dissect my feelings for Santos, not until I define them.

When Mom texts me that the linen vendor wants to speak to me, I groan softly. I know they're going to give us trouble, and I'm the only person who can tell if they're scamming us or not. I bounce up to get out of bed. I have a job to do, and the hospitality industry waits for no man.

Hours later, I'm dead on my feet as I stand behind the front desk. While the linen vendor and I came to an agreement, it was one problem after another today. I barely had time to text Santos or the SGS. I've been swamped showing Mom what forms to fill out for our new property. I'm happy that Shiba's Seaside is still growing, but I'm not thrilled by all this work. Judging by my Mom's dissatisfied glower as she gazes at the PC, she's not thrilled either.

" Musuko , this is so complicated," Mom says, sitting on the stool. "We didn't have to go through this when we bought the house you and your brother share."

I stand behind her and frown, then click save on the documents. "That's because it was a house. You're purchasing a separate beach." It's a tiny plot of land, but more space means more capacity for guests. That means more money, which should make us happy, right? "I told you and Dad this."

"Hey, we are not ill-equipped. The Shibas can do anything."

"I didn't say you were ill-equipped." I bite back a chuckle. "But this is what's necessary for the beach expansion."

"But with all these loans..." Mom clicks around the windows, landing on the contract with the massive price point. "It wasn't like this decades ago when we started." I know she's trying, but if she and Dad can't handle this, they may have plateaued their reach of Shiba's Seaside. Have I…?

"Things change in thirty years."

Mom turns to me with a resigned smile. "You're saying I'm not a young sport anymore, right?"

This one earns me a laugh. I lean forward to hug her from behind. " Okaasan , you're timeless. I'll always be here for you."

She smiles and leans back. "You need to be there for your new job, too." She pats my head, and I chuckle. I know Mom won't be here forever, so I cherish these fleeting moments. "Go hang out with your boss."

"You mean Firass?" I pull back and eye her skeptically. "My best friend since middle school and Johnny's boyfriend?"

"Exactly. He and Johnny are at the restaurant." She waves me off, then turns back to the screen. "I'm going to, how you say, save these on the drives?"

I hesitate, but my stomach grumbles. A meal is calling to me. I smile and walk backward, saying, "Don't delete anything."

It takes me five minutes to dip into the restaurant kitchen, grab sandwiches, and find my roommates. I join them, seated at the table closest to the lobby. They're giggling and holding hands, and it almost makes me lose my appetite altogether.

"Hey, Natie. How was your day?" Firass asks.

"Busy," I say, munching on my sandwich. "Mom and Dad have no idea what they're doing with this new expansion."

"I told them to be wary." Johnny wraps his arm around Firass and turns to me. "But do they listen to me? No, I'm just a lowly music teacher."

"There's nothing lowly about you," Firass murmurs.

Johnny giggles and I roll my eyes. If I wasn't so hungry, I'd toss my last bite of sandwich at the two of them. Maybe it's the stress of the day, but their public display of affection has me particularly vexed. I know they don't mean to, but they constantly remind me that I'm dreadfully single. And they're rubbing salt in the wound.

I finish my meal and try not to let envy consume my soul. Hamadi and Dylan are both likely screwing around with their significant others. The only other person I know who might be single is…

"Santos?" Firass waves, and Johnny looks behind me. Huh ?

Turning around, I spot the man in question. Santos is striding up to us with a sheepish smile and one of my books in his hand. He's wearing a red letterman-type jacket and ripped blue jeans, and he's the epitome of sexiness.

Firass and I stand up, and I quickly wipe my mouth and brush any stray crumbs off my shirt. Shit, my work clothes are so wrinkled . I probably smell like sweat and job dissatisfaction. No time to check my armpits now.

"Santos. Uh, hi!" I say, like an idiot.

He waves, and I recall two other people are here with me.

"How is the production coming along?" Firass asks. He pushes up his glasses and continues, "I assume that's why you came here on your day off?"

"Uh, no." He forces a chuckle.

"You're with the wedding party," Johnny remarks. "Are you here for another tour?"

"No." He smiles at me, and I swear my heart skips a beat.

"What uh…brings you here?" I ask.

"I um…texted you." He points the book at me. "You said I could c-c-come over whenever, and I wanted to swap books again."

"Shit, I haven't checked my phone all day," I reply, all while grinning like an idiot. He came to see me? My cheeks burn with flattery.

"S-s-sorry." Santos frowns. "I should have confirmed."

"No! It's cool!" I laugh for no reason.

"I don't recall those books being part of any production plans." Firass pushes up his glasses.

"And those books aren't part of the wedding," Johnny murmurs. He looks between us suspiciously, and I glare at him. "What…what's going on, Natie?"

"Guys, relax," I whisper through gritted teeth. Clearing my throat, I stand up tall and point to Santos. "Santos and I like to talk books. It's no big deal." I turn away from my two roommates and stride forward, all but dragging Santos by the shoulder. "Come on, buddy."

"Nice s-s-seeing you," he says to the couple. Then, the two of us stride forward to the main lobby library.

"I'm sorry about that," I mutter.

"No worries at all. I shouldn't have j-j-just showed up."

"Nonsense." I take the book and pat his chest with it. "You, sir, are welcome to chat books with me anytime. I meant what I said." I turn to the bookcase and slot the hardcover in place. "Plus, after the day I've had, you, Santos, are a sight for sore eyes."

Crap . I turn to see his surprised expression; he's clearly not used to me being so forward with my flirtations. "What I mean is, um…I've had a stressful day. And now you're here and, um, probably want to borrow another book, and―"

"Natie." He places his hand on mine while I'm partway pulling a book out of the shelf. I turn to stone at that little touch. It's been ages since I've had anyone's skin on mine, let alone someone as attractive as Santos. "Do you...want to talk about it?"

I hesitate, then let go of the book and smile. "I'd like that."

Ten minutes later, we're back to walking along the beach. The ocean waves are a calm soundtrack under the darkening sky. Hardly anyone's around, and I'm grateful to be away from my family and my best friend for a moment.

I only want to talk to my new friend, Santos.

I shove my hands in my pockets as we stroll to prevent myself from doing something stupid like holding his hand. He'd probably run off screaming if I did. We're buddies who chat books, and this isn't a date.

"I wish my other friends liked talking about books."

"Oh?" Santos asks with his hands deep in his jacket pockets.

"Yeah." I chuckle and breathe in the spring air. "But then again, maybe I wouldn't have ended up here with you."

"Maybe."

"But I'm glad I'm here." I stop and lean on a railing to face the shore, and Santos mirrors me. We're so far away from Shiba's Seaside, and I suddenly understand my brother's wanderlust. I feel like I can talk freely about all my troubles for the first time in years. So much of that is because of my new friend, the guy I once thought was my enemy.

I sigh. "On the phone or in person, it's like I can talk to you about anything."

"I'm glad to be of service. But w-what's been on your mind?"

I take a deep breath as the scent of saltwater wafts around me. "I used to dream about taking over Shiba's Seaside."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I snicker. "That's why I went into hospitality and became a co-manager. We kept expanding, and I kept taking on more and more responsibility."

"And now?"

I glance at him, then back down at my hands. "My parents are really struggling with this new expansion. I'm starting to think we've reached our plateau." I play with my thumbs, then look out at the sky over the sea. With the sun down, the stars are already out. "And I don't know if my parents are ready to accept that."

"I'm sure they will eventually," Santos says.

"But am I ready to accept it?" I shrug.

"You tell me."

I laugh at the sky. "I wish you could tell me what my future holds."

"I'm no clairvoyant. I'm m-m-merely a producer of paper goods."

I turn to see him already studying me. "Is that what you always wanted to do?"

He shakes his head. "No. But taking odd jobs over the years, I kind of fell into it. Then I met Keisha, we clicked, and n-now we're partners."

"That's awesome." I sigh and look away. "You have your company. Firass has his dream job. Johnny's a teacher. You all have accomplishments."

"So do you, Mr. Hospitality." He bumps his shoulder into me, and I laugh.

"But if I stop expanding Shiba's Seaside, then who am I?"

"You're Natie Shiba." Santos pauses, and I gaze at him. With his thick neck, stubbled jaw, light skin, and comforting eyes, he's the picture of perfection. "You were the fiercely loyal friend to all the gay kids in high school. You're a hard-working son. You're charming and love books. You're so smart, even though somewhere in your thick skull you thought I was a bully."

He taps my scalp and I giggle at the touch. Since when do I giggle? Between the starry night and Santos being so close to me, my pulse picks up like a drum solo at a pep rally.

"I'm really sorry about that, again, by the way."

"It's cool. As long as you don't see me that way anymore." He leans on the railing and smiles.

"I don't, Santos." My voice lowers, and I move closer to him. "I swear, I don't."

He gulps and looks at my lips. We're inches away from each other now, years of misunderstanding washing away between us. The night sky frames his handsome face; he's irresistible. I bet he can hear my heart hammering in my chest. The pull between us gets stronger, and I want him so much.

He licks his lips, and I stop breathing. "How…d-d-do you see me?"

I see you as everything right now, Santos .

Without saying another word, I put my lips on his. My hand holds his face as I kiss him hard. I breathe in his manly scent and soak in the feel of his stubble on my cheeks. After a few moments of holding our lips still, he opens his mouth so I can explore more.

I'm kissing Santos Hand, my so-called high school bully. And he's kissing me back.

Our tongues entangle, and a moan escapes my lips. When he brings his arm around my waist, my cock perks up. I know it's been a while for me, but Santos knows how to kiss. This boy tastes so good.

I never want to leave this beach. I want to stay here, make my home in the sand, and spend my lifetime kissing Santos. I suck on his lip and massage his mouth with mine. Weeks of texting and years of resentment have all led up to this. How could I not comprehend how much I wanted him? And considering his breathy moans into my mouth, he wants me too.

But all perfect kisses have to come to an end. So, after a few minutes of making out, we pull away for air. He's huffing, and his lips are a reddened, curvy smile.

"Wow," I say, trying to catch my breath.

Santos begins to stutter, then jolts back and reaches into his pocket. His face falls, and he picks up the phone.

"Hello?" I can't hear the other line, but the news doesn't look good. He turns to me like he got the worst news of all time.

"Santos —"

"I'm sorry, Natie, I have to run."

"Oh." My mind is whirring with worst-case scenarios. This can't be about our kiss, right? No, that doesn't make sense. "Um…"

"I'm sorry, but shit, I gotta go." He hyperventilates and looks around, like he can't think straight.

"Well, do you need —"

"I'll talk to you later." With that, Santos dashes off into the night.

I try not to be hurt and convince myself that wasn't because of our kiss. I run my hands through my hair. Fortunately, no one's around to witness the frustration on my face. It figures that the best kiss I've had in years gets interrupted by some frightening phone call. I don't know where Santos's head is at, or if he regrets our scorching hot make-out session.

But the next time we meet I'm going to need some answers. Because despite my years of resentment, I don't regret making a move on Santos Hand.