Slow It Down

Part 10 •REWRITTEN•

He leans back, arms crossing over his chest as he studies me—not judgmental, just thoughtful, like he's trying to connect dots without pushing too far. "You two seem... complicated." His tone sounds uncertain, like he's struggling to find the right word to describe us.

I'm just as uncertain.

I let out a small breath, eyes settling on the margin of my notebook where I've been doodling absentmindedly. "We are. Or... we were. Back in high school."

"You knew each other?" He asks, his tone jumping slightly, genuinely surprised.

"Knew," I repeat with a quiet, humorless laugh. "As in, he used to be my best friend. The person I did everything with. The one person I trusted more than almost anyone."

Nate doesn't interrupt. He doesn't press. He just listens, really listens, in that patient way he has.

"And then one day," I continue, "he wasn't. No explanation. No fight. No reason. He just... cut me off. Acted like I didn't exist. he didn't know me anymore."

"That's..." Nate exhales slowly, choosing his words with care. He shakes his head once. "That's pretty shitty."

I giggle softly, tapping my pencil against my notebook as I shift in my seat. "Yeah. It was."

"And he never explained?" Nate asks. "Not once?"

"No." I shake my head, pretending that confession doesn't sting as much as it still does. "So working with him now is just awkward. He's polite enough, but distant. It feels like talking to someone who used to be real and is now just... smoke."

Nate's jaw tightens—not aggressively, but with something protective humming beneath the surface. It's almost startling. "You don't owe him anything," he says softly. "You know that, right? Just because someone knew you once doesn't give them the right to have access to you now."

The words hit harder than I expect, pulling something tight in my chest. I force a small smile, grateful for him in a way I'm not used to feeling. "I know."

"If he ever makes things uncomfortable," Nate adds gently, "you tell me."

I roll my eyes with a smile, but the warmth settles somewhere in a small part beneath my ribs at the offer. "I already have Kayce for that. And Natalie, trust me."

"Well," he says with a quiet grin, "I can be an army of one."

The comment is light, playful—but the meaning lingers long after.

Class ends faster than I want it to, and I get a wave of butterflies when he walks with me until we reach the split in the hallway. Right before he steps away, he reaches out and touches my elbow lightly—barely anything, but enough to make my breath catch. I blink up at him.

"Good luck," he says. "With him."

Not accusatory or jealous, but aware. Curious. Watching. A playful smile tugs his lips up, showing his perfect, white teeth and I smile in return.

"Thanks," I reply with a blush, feeling the warmth of Nate's gentle touch disappear.

As I walk down the hall, I fight the urge to glance over my shoulder at him. A few moments later, my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my pocket and immediately smile.

Nate: You sure you're okay? I meant it.

He really is sweet—maybe a little too sweet. But for once, being wanted doesn't feel threatening. Having someone's attention isn't a bad thing. I'm unfamiliar with not feeling scared of catching someone's attention.

It feels... nice.

My smile grows, tucking my phone away before I overthink it. The walk to my next class feels shorter than usual, which is unfortunate because I could use the extra time to mentally prepare.