Chapter 13: The Balcony Reckoning

Thirteen

There was a week until my birthday. My parents organized a party and told me to invite classmates.

They went all out—balloons, streamers, a cornhole set in the yard, and fairy lights zigzagging over the deck. A sheet cake decorated in pink frosting sat by the Solo cups.

I didn’t want to invite Derek and the others, but since they’d been behaving, there was no need to make trouble, so I gave everyone invitations.

My mom insisted—"Be the bigger person, Nat," she said. So I slipped invites into everyone’s lockers, even Lauren’s.

Caleb shamelessly asked for one too.

He cornered me after English, grinning. "You know a party isn’t a party without me, right?" I rolled my eyes, but gave him one anyway.

On my birthday, I dressed up for the party.

I wore a pink dress, sparkly shoes, and did my hair in loose curls. My mom snapped photos, Dad lit up the grill for burgers and hot dogs.

Derek came too, wearing a suit, with Lauren—exquisitely made up—holding his arm.

For a backyard bash, the suit was extreme—like he wanted to make a statement. Lauren wore a tight black dress, her makeup flawless.

Seeing me, she clung tightly to his arm, pressing herself close.

She smirked, daring me to react. I just smiled politely, moving past them to greet my aunts and cousins.

Derek was expressionless.

He kept his eyes on the ground, shoulders stiff. I wondered if he even wanted to be there.

I didn’t greet them, just went to the adults.

I stuck close to my parents, helping refill the chip bowls and pass out sodas. The noise and laughter felt like armor, keeping the past at bay.

The party was fun but tiring. In the middle, I went out alone to the balcony to rest in the night breeze.

The cool air was a relief, the sounds of laughter and a country song change drifting up from the yard. I leaned on the railing, watching the stars wink on one by one.

Then, I heard footsteps behind me.

I knew who it was before he spoke—the soft tread, the hesitant pause. Some things you never forget.

Though I didn’t want to admit it, after so many years, I recognized his footsteps instantly.

My heart sped up, but I kept my face calm, turning to face him as he joined me on the balcony.

He stood behind me, his voice hoarse.

He cleared his throat, eyes red-rimmed. I wondered if he’d been crying, or just hadn’t slept.

"Can we talk, Natalie?"

He sounded older, tired. I nodded, just once, letting him speak.

I turned to see Derek’s eyes were very red.

He stared at me, searching my face for something—maybe forgiveness, maybe understanding. I gave him nothing.

"Of course." I was expressionless. "But if possible, I hope this is the last time."

My voice was steady. I meant every word.

His face was pale, and he laughed at himself.

He leaned against the railing, hands trembling. The night was quiet except for the distant hum of cicadas and my friends laughing below.

"Do we really have to be like this, Natalie?"

His voice was small, almost pleading. I didn’t answer.

"No matter how much I beg, you won’t forgive me now, will you?"

He looked at me, desperation in his eyes. I shook my head, the answer clear.

I looked away.

I stared at the backyard lights, refusing to meet his gaze. The silence stretched between us.

"I really don’t get it. Didn’t you always like me? You know... I liked you too. We were so close to confessing, why are you doing this to me?"

He finally said it—the words I’d waited years to hear. But now, they meant nothing.

He finally said it, admitting for the first time that he liked me too.

I closed my eyes, letting the words wash over me. It was too little, too late.

But at a time like this.

The timing hurt worse than anything. I turned back to him, letting him see the pain in my eyes.

"Just because of that one slap?"

He sounded incredulous, as if one mistake could be so easily forgiven. He still didn’t understand.

Just like at the beginning, I nodded without hesitation.

"Yes, just because of a slap."

"Yes, just because of a slap."

I watched him process it, the realization dawning in his eyes. He shook his head, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream.

"That day, I heard it."

My voice was quiet, almost a whisper. He looked at me, confused.

Derek didn’t just slap me out of emotional loss of control.

There was more to the story—something he thought I didn’t know. But I’d heard everything.

That day, I heard it.

I let the silence stretch, letting the memory settle between us.

————

Sometime before that incident, I saw Derek taking Lauren home. Feeling uneasy, I followed them.

I hung back on the sidewalk, watching them laugh and share a slice at Lou’s Pizza, neon sign buzzing in the window, grease-stained napkins everywhere. Their friends crowded around, everyone joking and shouting over classic rock.

Derek and a few of his buddies, along with Lauren, went into a pizza place, eating and talking.

They grabbed a booth in the back, piling on toppings and trading bites. I sat at a window table, nursing a Coke and listening.

"Been with you since elementary school... Damn, isn’t that childhood sweethearts!"

His friends teased, nudging Derek’s shoulder. Lauren giggled, twirling a strand of hair.

"So she still likes you now?"

Someone asked, raising an eyebrow. Derek grinned, leaning back.

"Of course, she only talks to D in class."

The group laughed, Lauren raising her glass in a mock toast. I felt my cheeks burn, heart pounding.

"Chased you for nine years... D still won’t agree? Doesn’t like her?"

They all looked at him, waiting for an answer. Derek shrugged, smirking.

My heart tightened.

I pressed my ear closer to the wall, barely breathing. The music was loud, but I heard every word.

Derek laughed casually.

"I like her... but I don’t really want to date. Feels too delicate, too much trouble."

His words stung, sharp as knives. One friend muttered, "Dude, that’s messed up," but the group mostly whooped.

There was a commotion.

The laughter rose, glasses clinking, someone whistling. Lauren leaned in, eyes sparkling.

"Awesome!"

"Aren’t you afraid she’ll stop liking you one day!"

"No way, that kind of girl, once she likes you, she’ll never let go. You can’t shake her off."

Then, Lauren’s laughing voice joined in.

She chimed in, her words sweet and sharp. "Yeah, I really know that kind of girl. Likes pink, everything has to be pink, delicate, weak, likes to depend on people. No matter how D treats her, as long as he’s a little nice, she’ll always like him."

"See, even though I’m so close to D now, she still tries to get close? I think..."

She giggled, nudging Derek’s arm. The group egged her on.

"Even if you slapped her in public, just apologize and it’ll be fine."

The laughter was loud now, filling the tiny pizza place. My hands shook, nails digging into my palms.

"Really? That dumb?"

Derek shrugged, glancing around. "Yeah, D, want to try?"

"Slap her, that kind of girl would cry to death on the spot..."

Lauren said it like it was a joke, but I felt the tears gathering behind my eyes.

I held my breath.

I stared at the napkin in my lap, trying to keep it together. My heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

In the noisy pizza place, only Derek’s voice was especially clear.

He leaned in, grinning. "Try it then."

Derek was flustered, his hands trembling.

He looked at me, desperation in his eyes. "It’s not like that! Natalie, listen, I just... I just said that to save face, I didn’t mean it! I..."

"Don’t deny it, it’s pathetic, Derek."

My words were sharp, but my voice was steady. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

I looked at him and said softly.

I wanted him to know I saw through him—every excuse, every lie. He couldn’t hide from me anymore.

"Didn’t you always say it’s bad to talk about others behind their backs? Look at yourself—are you any better? Save face for who?"

The words hung in the air, heavy and unanswerable. He flinched, but didn’t argue.

Derek’s face instantly went pale.

He looked away, unable to meet my gaze. The truth was too much to bear.

I sighed deeply.

I felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from my chest. The pain was still there, but now it was manageable—something I could live with.

Strangely, I was furious and sad at the time, but now I feel nothing, as if I’m just watching someone else’s story.

I looked at him, really looked, and realized I didn’t love him anymore—not the way I used to.

"I know you like me, but I also know you hesitated, right? For a moment, you thought Lauren was great too—you liked her, liked her enough to want to show off in front of her."

My words were calm, almost clinical. I was done being angry—I just wanted closure.

"That’s normal, Derek. You like me because we grew up together, I’m pretty and love you wholeheartedly, so you have feelings for me. But we’re not really suited."

I let the words settle, letting him absorb the truth. He nodded, silent.

"You think I’m pretty, but that doesn’t stop you from thinking I’m a weak princess, thinking my love of pink is childish, not as presentable as you big guys. So in the end, you’ll still be attracted to someone like Lauren."

He opened his mouth, but closed it again. I knew I was right—he couldn’t deny it.

"If it wasn’t Lauren, it’d be someone else—another outspoken, ‘not like other girls’ but equally pretty girl. But you shouldn’t have stepped on me to show off."

I kept my voice even, refusing to let him see how much it still hurt.

I sneered.

The sound was low, bitter. "How dare you hit me? Didn’t you know no one’s ever hit me? Who do you think you are, Derek?"

"Why did you dare hit me?"

My voice was soft, but my words were sharp. He winced, the truth settling heavy on his shoulders.

Derek looked defeated.

He stared at his shoes, hands clenched. He didn’t try to defend himself. There was nothing left to say.

His darkest, most selfish desire had been exposed, and he knew it. He had no strength to argue.

He looked older, suddenly—like the weight of his choices had finally caught up to him.

I stared at him.

In that moment, I felt nothing—no anger, no sadness, just a kind of tired relief. From inside the house, someone cheered over a cornhole win; the normalcy made the moment even sharper.

In the end, he just stood there, a tear rolling down his cheek.

He didn’t try to hide it. The night air was cool, the backyard lights soft around us. For a second, I almost felt sorry for him—but not enough to change my mind.

"...Natalie. You don’t love me anymore?"

His voice was small, trembling. I met his eyes, steady and sure.

"I never loved you."

The words came out before I could stop them. They felt true, even if they weren’t—not really. A flicker of hurt flashed through me—then passed.

I said it without hesitation.

I watched the hope drain from his face. I didn’t look away.

"...What?"

His lips were white, trembling. He looked at me like he’d never seen me before.

Derek’s lips went white, staring at me in confusion.

He searched my face, looking for a lie. There was none.

I looked him in the eye and said honestly,

My voice was soft, but firm. "I used to like you, I always liked you, since elementary school. My feelings didn’t need anything from you—they grew every day. Because these feelings lived in my beautiful fantasy of you, they didn’t need your response. As long as I had them, it was enough. But not long ago, I gave up."

"Why?"

He sounded lost, like a little boy again. I took a deep breath, the truth spilling out.

"Because my face still hurts when I see you."

I touched my cheek, the memory of his slap still fresh. I saw understanding dawn in his eyes—finally, too late.

I was expressionless.

I turned away, leaving him on the balcony, alone with his regrets.

Derek’s face finally went completely pale.

He didn’t move, didn’t say another word. I went inside, closing the door on that chapter of my life for good.