July 2085: in between days, part 1

Natty and Hilary are 20. 

Soundtrack, "In Between Days" by The Cure

Thursday, July 27, 2085: 2:30 pm

Having Hilary back made Natty feel fifteen again for a minute, and she thought that was everything she'd wanted, for things to be back the way they used to be. It was just like old times, the way the two of them would sun themselves on her parents beach when her dad would drag Charlie and Isaiah to an air show because he had no sons of his own. Natty could almost pretend they were back there again. Almost. If she pretended really hard.

It was Hilary's idea that Natty probably shouldn't call Charlie while she was here. "You need to experience being your own person for just once."

"I am my own person," Natty said.

"Not really," Hilary told her. "You're Charlie's girlfriend. But who are you? Who are you without him? Don't you want to find out?"

Natty had told herself that exact thing five weeks ago, and now it sounded like a load of bullshit. Like she was going to magically turn into some new and exciting person with a magic haircut and instant personality change? Was it supposed to unveil something profound about her life? All she'd discovered was that she didn't really like her hair short. She couldn't wait for it to grow back again.

Natty had expected all of this to feel different. She expected something to happen here. That maybe some cogs would click into place and she would reach enlightenment, or at least she'd have a little bit of fun. Instead she felt nothing, except anxious that too much nostalgia was making her lose grip on her whole life. This was not her life.



"I just think you're going to be so glad you did this," Hilary said.

Glad was not the right word. Glad was like finding out you had an extra week to write a term paper, or finding a really cute dress on sale for half off, or holding a puppy. Being here, doing whatever it was she was doing, did not make Natty glad.

"You are going to learn so much about yourself," Hilary went on. "When I left Isaiah, you know what I did first? I went home with this guy—older guy, okay really older—and we totally did it with about four other people he was living with on this big farm in the woods. And I never felt so free. I never would have known I was even into that, you know?"

"Geeze, Hil! You never told me that."

"I thought you’d lecture me or something."

"I would have." Natty nodded. "Didn't it make you sad to break up with Isaiah? Didn’t you love him?"

"Maybe," Hilary said. "I don't know. I guess I loved him enough for some high school thing."

"I hate it when you say that," Natty said. It wasn't the first time Hilary had talked about her short-lived romance with Isaiah that way. Like it was something to do and get over with. Natty knew exactly what she meant by it.

"Well isn't it true? Most high school things don't work out." Hilary shrugged. "I'm just saying, you needed a break for a reason. Breaks usually turn into break-ups. You guys met when you were like twelve, how often does that ever work out? Think about it."

"I don't need to think about it," Natty said. "I didn't need a break from him. That's not what this is."

"Then what is it?"

"Natty," her father called from the deck. "Phone’s for you."


It was Gabby. A million horrible scenarios raced through Natty’s mind, all the reasons Gabby could be calling: a car accident, somebody lost an arm or a finger or an eye, somebody burnt the apartment down, someone got electrocuted, or burnt, or so many other things having to do with fire and explosions. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Gabby said.

“Did anyone get hurt? Is everybody alive?”

“Mostly,” Gabby said.

“Mostly?”

“I kind of got dumped.”


Natty exhaled, feeling a frantic wave of relief overtake her body—not that Gabby got dumped, but that nobody was dead. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry to hear that. What was his name?”

“Claude,” Gabby said. “He’s a slimeball. I don’t care anymore.”

“That’s very brave of you.”

“But if you and Charlie break up, are you not coming back?”

“Is that what he told you? That we were breaking up?”

“No, he didn't say that. He just said he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Is he there? Can you put him on?”

“I think he went to work.”

“Did he tell you to call me?”

“No, don’t tell him I did," Gabby said. "He’d probably be mad.”


“He wouldn't be mad. But I won’t tell him, if that's what you want. And Gabby, we’re not breaking up, okay?”

“You’re coming back then?”

“I promise, I’ll be back soon. Very soon. And we’ll have a sleepover. I’ll rent Flashdance and we won’t tell your mom about it.”

“Okay,” Gabby said, and Natty could practically hear her smiling.

“But tell him to call me back, okay? Please tell him.”


Natty waited by the phone and eventually Hilary came inside with a sun-stroked daze in her eyes and slumped down onto the couch. "Geeze, forget me out there?"

"I'm waiting for Charlie to call."

Hilary rolled her eyes. “Why did you bother leaving him back home if you’re just going to wait around for him to call?”

But Natty hadn’t been waiting around to call him. That was the problem. Since Hilary had been here, every day had been a constant blur of nightclubs and dancing and late nights and strobe lights and sweaty guys who were too drunk and too gropey and bathed in way too much cologne. Now it felt like such a stupid idea to think she could pretend Charlie didn't exist in her world. It was a stupid idea and she was done with it. She was done with it now, this very second, and it was nearly a whole summer too late. She wanted to take every minute of it back.

“When does he finish work?” Hilary asked.


“I don’t know, sometimes around six. Sometimes later. We could go out after.”

“What if Gabby didn’t even tell him?" Hilary said. "Call and see if he’s home so we can go out.”

Natty called. There was no answer. “He might not be home yet.”

"So what? You talked to Gabby, everybody's fine." 

"I know, it's just..." Natty had Benny check up on him. She had her dad call him a few times. It wasn't enough. She wanted to hear that he was fine with her own ears. She needed to tell him she was fine with her own voice so she might believe it herself. She'd sent him three post cards and received back one, a photograph of their campus, their apartment was a tiny blur on it that he'd circled in ink, on the back was a short, terse sentence: You don't have to figure it out on your own. She could have cried, because what she wanted more than anything was to sob into his arms, if he would let her, but he was there and she was here and this was all her fault. "I just need to talk to him. I need to talk to him now."  

“Can you just not worry about Charlie for a minute?”


“I can’t not worry about Charlie. He's not just some stupid boyfriend, Hil—he's going to be my husband some day." Natty exhaled. "Or well, he was, before I messed everything up."

Hilary stared at her, stunned and sort of disappointed, like Natty had been speaking in alien tongues. The ground had opened up and formed a chasm between them so wide they might never reach each other again. At one time, Hilary had been her best friend in the world. Now they couldn't be more different.

Then they were just quiet. Hilary switched on MTV and the two of them didn't talk for hours.

6:00 pm


Charlie still hadn't called.

Hilary came and went, flipped through channels and turned the TV off. She left the room and Natty waited for another half hour. Still no call. When Hilary came back she was dressed and all made up.


"What’s on your face?" Natty asked, then bubbling over with glee as she noticed the dainty little stars on Hilary's cheek. "Oooh, so pretty! Can you do mine?!"

"Yes, I totally can," Hilary said. “Come on! Let’s go, the night is young and the boys are hot and so are we. Natty, it's been hours. He's not calling back. Not right now.”


“Well, I guess she might not have told him," Natty said.

"She might not have. And maybe she won't even tell him until tomorrow. Maybe she might even forget completely."

"Maybe," Natty said.

"Try him in the morning. You know he’ll be home in the morning. We could be dancing!” Hilary grabbed Natty’s hands and pulled her up from the sofa, starting to bop her head and bounce around in circles to no music.


“Okay, fine," Natty said. "I guess she probably didn’t tell him yet. I’ll talk to him in the morning.”

"Yes!" Hilary shouted. "I know just what you can wear!"

—