Y'all, I cannot believe it's been a month since I update this. Work got absolutely nuts cause a coworker quit suddenly, and I ended up inheriting a lot of her caseload. Thankfully things have calmed down a bit since then, but it was complete madness for a while there.
It's barely a respectable time to be up when her mom knocks on her door, then pushes it open without waiting for a response. Natara's not totally sure what her mom wants, but she figures it can't be anything pleasant if she's there this early in the morning. So she lays perfectly still and hopes her mom thinks she's still asleep and will leave her alone.
"Natara, there's someone at the door for you," she says. Natara groans and rolls over in her bed.
"Tell Mal to go away," she mumbles into her pillow. He knows better than to wake her up this early.
"It's not Mal," her mom says. "Actually, I don't know her name, but she says she knows you from school?"
Natara sits up and stares at her mom for a second. She knows it can't be Amy, because not only would her mom know her on sight, Amy's also still probably asleep. But other than either Amy or Mal, she can't think of anyone who would show up at her house unannounced. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she begins dragging herself out of bed.
"Do you know what she wants?" she asks as she pulls on a sweatshirt in an attempt to make herself more presentable.
"She just said she wants to talk to you," her mom says. "She seems very nice, though. She's waiting for you on the porch."
If Natara had made a list of people she was expecting to see as she steps out onto her porch, Blaise Corso wouldn't have even made it onto it. Truth be told, she's barely thought about Blaise since the night Mal ran out on their movie night to go to a party with her. But there she is, fully dressed with her arms crossed over her chest. She raises an eyebrow and smirks at Natara when she sees her.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," she drawls, nodding at her.
"Blaise, it's barely 7 am. What are you doing here?" Natara frowns at her.
"I figured it's time we have a talk," Blaise says with a shrug. "Not an especially long one, cause I have to get to work. But an important one." Natara crosses her arms as well, matching Blaise's stance.
"If this is the whole if-you-hurt-my-best-friend-I'll-kill-you talk, I would prefer to skip it," she says. "Mostly because I have no plans of hurting Mal, but also because I didn't figure you would play into that particular cliché." Now it's Blaise's turn to frown at her.
"Okay, first of all, I'm insulted that any part of you thought I was that friend," Blaise says flatly. "And second of all, that's not the talk I want to have."
"Well then what is it?" Natara asks while trying to keep her voice level. "It's early and I'm tired, and I would appreciate it if we could just skip right to the point." Blaise sighs, and her shoulders slump forward a bit.
"Look, I didn't come here to antagonize you," she says. "Mal would hate me if I had. He's had a crush on you for forever, and like it or not, I know you're important to him."
"He's important to me, too."
"But I know you," Blaise continues as if she hadn't spoken. "Or at least I did. I remember you flaking on us in fifth grade. And I don't want that to happen to Mal." Natara frowns again.
"Blaise, that was years ago," she says. "We were children, and I was stupid. But I'm not going to do that to Mal."
"I just want to be sure," Blaise says. "Really, I think I just want to ask you to be careful with him."
"What do you mean, be careful with him?"
"He's gone through a lot in the past few years," Blaise says with another shrug. "I know he's told you most of it, but it's not the same as being there to witness it. I just don't want to see him get hurt again." Natara's gaze softens, and she drops her arms to her sides.
"I promise I meant what I said before," she sighs. "I don't plan on hurting him. I really care for him a lot, and I don't want to see him hurt either."
"I get that," Blaise says. "But I don't think people ever plan on hurting someone else, unless they're a psychopath."
"Blaise-"
"I just have one more thing to say, I promise," she interrupts. "I don't know where the two of you are in your relationship, or how far you plan for it to go. Frankly, it's really none of my business. But Mal is one of my best friends in the world. And I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't ask you to consider what he'll go through if things go bad."
"I understand," Natara says. "You're protecting him. I would probably do the same if I was in your position." Blaise nods.
"I know he probably doesn't need me to look out for him, and that he could probably take care of himself," Blaise acknowledges. "But like I said, I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't."
"For what it's worth, I'm glad he has you," Natara says, and she truly means it.
"Thanks," Blaise says with a small smile. "Anyway, I have to go, I got stuck with the early shift at work." She turns toward the porch steps.
"See you around," Natara says, heading back toward the door.
"Oh, and one more thing," Blaise says over her shoulder. "If you tell Mal about this conversation, I will kill you." Natara rolls her eyes.
"Your secret is safe with me," she assures her.
By the time she shows up to Mal's house later that day, it's raining pretty heavily. Blaise's words haven't left her mind in the hours that have passed, and she finds herself ruminating on them more than she knows she should.
She's still thinking about their conversation when she knocks on Mal's door. As she waits for someone to answer the door, she tries to push it from her mind, but only sort of succeeds.
"Hi Natara," a voice says as the door opens, pulling her out of her thoughts. Mal's mom smiles at her and beckons her inside.
"Hi Mrs. Fallon," she says, trying to return the smile. "Is Mal here?"
"He actually left to get snacks not too long ago," his mom says. "We were doing a puzzle, but he said he needed a break. He should be back soon, though."
His mom leads the way into the kitchen, and Natara spots the puzzle on the table. The border is already put together, along with a decent-sized chunk of the center. She looks closer at it and recognizes the Eiffel Tower. A glance at the picture on the box tells her it's supposed to be surrounded by fireworks, but the pieces are so tiny it's no wonder Mal needed a break from it.
"He found it in one of the boxes in the attic," his mom says. "I figured we might as well give it another try, right?"
"How long ago did you start on it?" she asks.
"About an hour ago, maybe," his mom says with a shrug, and Natara laughs. "Mal never had much patience for puzzles. I think the snacks were really just an excuse to run away from it."
"That does sound like him," Natara says with a shake of her head.
"He kind of reminds me of his dad in that way," Angela says fondly. "Both of them could find the most menial task to do instead of whatever unpleasant thing they were supposed to be doing."
Natara stiffens slightly and tries to hide her grimace. She's glad Mal's not around to hear his mom's words, since she's almost certain he wouldn't appreciate being compared to his father. Angela sees her expression though, and her own softens.
"He wasn't always a bad person," she tells Natara softly. "Or even if he was, he had his heart in the right place."
"You don't have to explain," Natara says quickly. "Honestly, I don't even know all the details. Mal didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't want to pressure him into it."
"Out of curiosity, what did he tell you?"
"Mostly that he was corrupt," she says quickly, lowering her eyes. "That he dragged a bunch of other cops into it and that he worked with some people in the cartels. That's all Mal really wanted to say about it." His mom nods a few times.
"I can understand why Mal hates his dad," Angela says. "I think anyone would feel the same way. And I hope you don't think I'm trying to justify what he did, because I know it was wrong. But he's the love of my life and, for all his flaws, he gave me my children." Natara thinks she understands, so she nods.
"I just wish…" Angela says, but then trails off.
"Wish what?" Natara prompts.
"I wish things could have worked out differently, I guess," Angela finishes. "I wish Jake could be here for the kids. Or, at the very least, that they didn't hate their dad. He's all they're going to have, and I just wish he could be here with them." On a whim, Natara reaches out and takes one of Angela's hands. She can feel the bones in her hand clearly through her skin, but ignores it.
"They won't be totally alone," she says, her voice firm and sure. "They'll have each other, and anyone can see how much they care about each other."
"I suppose that's true," Angela says.
"And they'll have me, too," Natara continues. "I care about Mal more deeply than I've cared about anyone, and I promise I'll take care of him."
She's anticipating Angela looking thankful or appreciative or something, so it confuses her when she gives her a sad smile and sighs. Angela's free hand comes up to cover hers, and she grips it with a surprising strength.
"Oh, hon," she says. Natara's eyebrows pull together.
"No, really," she says. "I know we're still really young, and maybe we're irrational or full of hormones or whatever, but it's true. I want to be there for him, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure he's okay."
"Oh, no, Natara, don't get me wrong," Angela says. "I appreciate it. I really do. But sweetie, that's not your responsibility."
"But-"
"It's not," Angela says firmly. "I'm glad you care so much for my son, and I know he cares for you, too. But you shouldn't take all of that on yourself. You need to take care of you, first and foremost."
"I know, but-"
"No buts," Angela interrupts her again. "Mal will be okay. It's not your obligation to take care of him, nor should it be. You're still so young, and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself. Do you understand?"
Natara tries her hardest not to grimace at Angela, but she's pretty sure she doesn't succeed. Instead, she just nods, then glances back at the puzzle.
"I remember going to the Eiffel Tower when I was little," she says fondly. "It looked so tall, probably because I was such a short child."
"I always wanted to go," she says with a wistful smile, not calling attention to the sudden change in topic. "Jake and I meant to go to Paris years ago, but things just never worked out. It's too bad."
She trails off, her fingers drifting up to the scarf that covers her head, and Natara hears the words neither of them want to speak out loud. It's too bad she never got to see it. It's too bad she'll never get to. It's too bad she's too sick to go.
"I guess it just was never meant to be," Angela says. Her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes as she shuffles over to the couch in the living room and lowers herself onto it.
"Well, Paris doesn't always smell so great," Natara says as she settles onto the couch next to Angela. "Actually, it smells kind of awful. And the people there aren't as willing to talk to total strangers as we are. But at night, after it gets dark, the whole city lights up. It's so bright, it's like the sun never even set." She glances over at Angela, whose head is now resting on the back of the couch as she slouches down. Her eyes are trained on Natara, though, and she gives her a small smile.
"The Eiffel Tower looks so much bigger in person," Natara continues. "If you stand underneath it and look up, it makes you feel absolutely tiny. It also just looks cool, kind of like a kaleidoscope but more geometric."
She continues describing Paris to Angela in as much detail as she can recall. She does her best to paint as vivid a picture as she can, even knowing that it could never compare to the real thing. But while she may not be able to do much to help Mal or his family, she can at least do this.
