Second Chance(3)

“Oh, I’m Jack by the way,” Jack called after him. “What’s your name?”

Nate stopped, and then looked over his shoulder as he replied. “Nate.”

“Good to meet you, Nate.”

“You too.” He started walking again, hurrying until he was around the safety of the corner. Then he slowed a little, heart pounding, and thoughts whirling as he made his way home.

Jack Redford.

The first boy he’d ever loved.

His best friend from secondary school, confidant, and partner-in-crime.

But Jack knew Nate as a her, not a him. He didn’t remember Nate, because he’d known him as Nat—short for Natalie—a teenage girl rather than the boy Nate should always have been.



1988



“Maybe I should try snogging you?”

Nat froze, her whole body tense as she stared up at the stars above them where she lay on her back on the grass. A little drunk and just the right amount of high, she’d been perfectly relaxed a moment before. Now her heart pounded and nerve endings jangled at the thought of Jack kissing her.

“How’s that going to help, genius?” she scoffed, trying to sound casual. “You’ve already tried snogging Vicky Jones and it did nothing for you. And you still have a crush on Harrison Ford, and Michael Bennett in the year above us.”

She squashed down the memory of watching Jack snogging Vicky at James’s party last month. Even knowing Jack was only experimenting hadn’t helped Nat feel better about it. She’d ended up drinking so much neat Martini that she’d thrown up in the kitchen sink. James—whose parents were away overnight—had been furious with her, and having to unblock the sink while everyone else looked on and giggled had been mortifying. The only good part had been Jack ditching Vicky so he could walk Nat home. His arm around her shoulders had felt so perfect; it had almost erased the hurt and humiliation that had led to that point.

“But I didn’t even like her,” Jack said. “I like you, so maybe it will feel different.” He nudged Nat, passing her the joint.

She sat up to take it; not wanting sparks to fall on her face. She took a long drag, the smoke curling into her lungs in the same way Jack filled every corner of her thoughts. “But you don’t fancy me.”

“I don’t know. I think you’re cute.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Please, Nat? Be a mate.”

Nat took a last drag from the joint, her fingers burning where it glowed red near the roach. She ground it out in the grass then turned to look at Jack, meeting his gaze defiantly. “Okay. Go on then. Get it over with.”

Jack stared at her for a moment and her heart flipped. Nat hated how she felt about him, because she knew he’d never feel the same. She’d accepted a while ago the thing that Jack was still struggling to admit to himself:

He only fancied boys, so he’d never fancy Nat.

Jack shuffled closer. Nat didn’t move to make it any easier for him. This was his stupid idea. He could work out how to do it.

He leaned in and put his hand on her cheek. It was too dark to see him clearly, so Nat closed her eyes and waited.

Warm breath brushed her lips, and then Jack’s mouth was on hers. Nat had never kissed anyone before, so she let Jack take the lead. Gentle and a little clumsy, it felt weird, awkward, and thrilling all at once. He angled his head differently and Nat parted her lips, hoping that was right. Feeling Jack’s tongue against hers was strange, and made her insides melt into a warm pool of honey. Heart pounding, she tried to keep her breathing steady, not wanting to show Jack how much this was affecting her.

He kissed her more deeply, one hand gripping her thigh as the other cupped her head, fingers dragging through her hair and for a fleeting moment Nat hoped that maybe….

But then Jack drew back and shook his head.

“Bollocks.” His voice was flat with disappointment. “I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”

“Yeah?” Nat managed past the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. She blinked back traitorous tears, grateful for the darkness. She ran a hand through her hair, clutching the short spikes, and tugging so the pain distracted her from the sudden rush of misery. “Shame I’m not a boy, huh?”



2018



As Nate let himself into his mum’s house, Jessie, her collie, rushed to greet him. He crouched to pet her as she wagged her tail in delight.

“Hey, Jess. Who’s a good girl? Yes, I’m glad to see you too.” Focusing on Jessie, Nate pushed aside the memories that had demanded space in his head on the walk home through the village. They’d been so vivid it was as though time had folded back on itself. It took a moment of adjustment to orient himself back in the present where he was no longer Nat, but Nate. Forty-five years old and a grown man, not a confused teenager who thought he was a girl because that’s what everyone had always told him, and he didn’t know any different.

Strains of classical music drifted from the kitchen, so Nate followed the sound to find his mum, Sue, chopping vegetables.

“Hi, Mum. Need some help?”

“No, it’s okay, love. I’m nearly done. But you could put the kettle on. I could use a cup of tea.”

“How was your day?” Nate asked as he filled the kettle.