The Way I Loved You

8. The Edge Of Seventeen

The Edge of Seventeen is a 2016 American coming-of-age comedy-drama film. The Edge of Seventeen tells the ever so familiar tale of navigating high school and the awkward teenage years just as your world begins to fall apart. [Source: Wikipedia, IMDb reviews]

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FFAEK: Emily still remembered Nadine's monologue, word by word.

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Chapter Eight: The Edge Of Seventeen

I paused in my steps and watched him from where I stood.

Half of his face was illuminated by the lights streaming from the restaurant. I could see the planes and shadows playing across his face; the strands of his black hair, his black shirt, his hand inside his pockets. The other half of his face was cast in the dark.

What a sight for sore eyes.

I couldn’t tell why watching him made me feel a little vulnerable. The last thing I expected was to find him right here, right now.

I took a few steps to get closer, “Are you following me now?”

My voice reached him. He was looking up at the sky. But he glanced down. It took him a few seconds to place me first, considering he didn't expect to see me here either.

As soon as he saw me, his expression changed from looking soft and sad to cool arrogance and cockiness. With a smirk, he masked his previous emotions, “So you’ve resorted to following me now?”

There were many ways to hide from people. Nathan Callahan surely knew some. All his high school life, he had been doing exactly that.

“I have better things to do than following you,” I replied as I leaned on the wall, next to him, careful not to touch him with my arms or shoulders.

“Such as?”

“I was in debate all day,” I didn’t elaborate further. He didn’t need to know about how humiliated and defeated I felt right then.

“Then why do you look like you could use a hug right now?” He asked, turning sideways to me.

I imagined hugging him right then. Our height difference would make it difficult for him. He would have to bend down a little. I thought about his large arms wrapping around my shoulders, tucking me into his broad chest. If he tried, he could hide all of me in his embrace. Nothing or nobody would be able to reach me if he did.

When romance writers meant feeling safe in someone's arms, they probably meant arms like Nathan's.

I stopped myself before my romance-addled brain kept going off tracks.

“Hugging you would be a nightmare,” I rolled my eyes, “Why’d I ever hug you?”

Nathan smiled, “I never said anything about hugging me.”

I wanted to turn back time to take back what I’d just said. This conversation would surely be a part of my 3 A.M. Things I Regret Saying videography.

“Anyway, I didn't do well enough as I thought, so,” I said to change the subject, “We came here for dinner. What are you doing here?”

“What do people do in restaurants?” Nathan scratched his chin, “I wonder.”

I huffed, “You could be working, for all I know.”

“Nope, I do underground boxing, remember?”

I thought of punching the sass out of him.  I must have glared at him while thinking that. He looked pleased with himself.