I awaken to the sound of Natasha’s voice calling from across the room. She must have let herself in again.

Natasha — “Are you coming or not?”

Mason — “Huh? Oh….well….”

I avert my eyes from the sun that’s shining directly through the window. Where am I supposed to be going?

Natasha — “Please?”

Her voice cracks a bit as she asks. She’s crying? Oh shit, did I forget something important?

Mason — “Wha…what are you talking about?”

She goes silent for a moment.

Natasha — “…Nevermind, don’t worry about it!”

She says it completely in tears this time.

Mason — “Wait, just…”

Before I can finish, I hear the door close, then a moment later the front door to the apartment. Too late. I sit up and rub my eyes, and think back to what she said. Oh right, we agreed to have lunch in Boston today. I look over to the clock on the wall; quarter to ten, it looks like I slept in a bit. Shit. Still, she can’t possibly be that mad at me just for being a little late. She did sound really upset about something though, so I’m not sure this is the time to stop and think about it. I toss on the clothes I was wearing yesterday, and rush out the door, barely managing to zip up my pants.

My eyes are still adjusting, and they recoil at the sunlight that shines unimpeded by even a single cloud. Thankfully I still have the glasses in my shirt pocket, I put them on and power them up. Low battery, that figures. At least they make good sunglasses in a pinch.

Finally able to see again, it doesn’t take long to find her. She doesn’t have a car, and there’s really only one way out of the complex on foot, one winding path through the woods and into town. She’s standing a short way out, in the middle of a small wooden bridge, looking out over the creek that flows under it. I hesitate for a moment, and try to think about the situation. Maybe she wants to be alone. My mind runs through a dozen excuses not to go over to her, but in the end I know that I have to.

Mason — “Hey…Natasha…”

My words come out weak, like I said them to a tower of cards that would fall if they caught my breath. She feigns an angry look, but even from behind her sunglasses, I can tell that she still has tears in her eyes. Her cheeks are flush, and the eyeshadow she had put on is starting to smear down her face.

Natasha — “I said don’t worry about it”

Mason — “Well…I am. What’s going on? I’m sorry I slept in…”

She angrily shakes her head at my remark and then turns to walk away. She only gets a few steps out before stopping herself and spinning back around.

Natasha — “I’ve given you lots of time Mason. I thought maybe that’s all you needed to stop acting like this.”

Mason — “Acting…like what?”

Natasha — “Like no one else’s problems matter but your own.”

She says it in a very matter-of-fact way, but the anger building in her voice is pretty clear. She looks back over the edge of the bridge. I wonder how long she’s been harboring this.

Mason — “I don’t really think I’m acting like that…”

Natasha — “Mason, we had today planned for weeks, and when I finally got here, it turns out you forgot, AGAIN. I’m just getting sick of hearing that you’re sorry for blowing me off.”

I turn and look over the side of the bridge with her. The crystal clear water is spoiled only by fallen leaves traveling downstream. Its enough to remind me that winter is just around the corner, despite how green and full the lawn leading to it is.

Mason — “I’m sor…”

I stop myself, but she still cringes a bit at the words I was about to say. I’ve never seen her act like this before.

Natasha — “Are you?”

I stop and think for a while. After everything that’s happened in the past couple weeks, I guess I’ve been acting a bit selfish. A lot selfish, maybe. I’ve been so focused on what I need to do to fix my own life, that I lost track of what was actually important.

I reply in the most stern and confident tone I can muster.

Mason — “Yes, I am. Let me prove it to you.”

We stand in silence for a bit, just looking out over the water. Eventually she looks back to me, and I think I almost see a hint of a smile on her face.

Natasha — “What are you doing Thursday night?”

Mason — “Nothing yet, what do you have in mind?”

Natasha — “I want you to keep that night clear, and meet me for dinner”

Mason — “Ok, I can do that.”

She takes my hand and we walk back toward the apartment.

Natasha — “Oh and Mason.”

Mason — “Yes?”

Natasha — “Don’t be late.”

She winks at me, her coy smile undercut slightly by her smeared makeup and red cheeks. I wouldn’t think of it Natasha, never again.