Broken First (Never Again)

Episode Nine

When Katherine made that statement "Now that you've seen me," she said, "what next?" it was a statement of. Now what. Do you want to show me the man you are. Are you really bold enough?

Little did she know that Chris’ boldness was unmatched. He was not the type to chicken out of a conversation especially when it has to do with girls.

He laughed. It was a good laugh, warm and unforced, the kind that made people around him relax without knowing why they were relaxing.

Now you give me your number," he said. "Because I am not letting you go again without that. I went home after the cafeteria feeling a kind of emptiness I hadn't felt in a while, and I told myself that if I ever got another chance, I wasn't going to waste it."

She hissed. But it was a soft sound, not sharp, not dismissive. The kind of hiss that has a smile hiding underneath it.

Is that how this works?" Katherine said. "You just walk up to a girl and tell her you went home heartbroken and she's supposed to hand over her number?"

"Only when it's true," Chris said.

Something shifted in the air between them. It happened quietly, the way weather changes before you can see the clouds moving, but you feel the temperature drop by a single degree and you know something is coming. Katherine looked at him, really looked at him, the way she hadn't quite allowed herself to look at him before. She took in the ease of him, the way his confidence sat on him without weight, without aggression, without that particular kind of male entitlement that made women's skin crawl. He was not performing for her. Or if he was, he was doing it so well that the performance had become indistinguishable from the real thing, and at this exact moment, she could not tell the difference.

And maybe that was what got her.

You look good yourself," she said.

The words came out quieter than she intended them to. Not a declaration, just an observation. The kind of thing you say when you have been thinking it for several minutes and it finally finds its way out through a gap in your composure.

You think so?" Chris replied, and his tone was light, playful, but his eyes were holding hers with a steadiness that made the lightness feel like something more. Like he didn’t know that he was a cute guy. He just wanted to make sure she say it again.

"Yes. I do."

Thank you," he said. "That means a whole lot coming from someone like you. I mean, if it was just some random compliment I might let it slide. But coming from someone who actually looks the way you do, it means I must actually be doing something right."

Don't let it get to your head though," Katherine said, and the warmth in her voice was no longer even trying to hide behind the composure.

I won't," Chris said. "I promise."

He didn't mean the promise. They both probably knew that. But in the soft, easy rhythm of this conversation, in the back-and-forth that had found its own music without anyone consciously choosing a key, a small harmless lie like that was not a lie at all. It was the language of flirtation, which had its own grammar and its own rules, and they were both fluent in it.

It was Rachel who broke the moment. She came back with that particular energy of a friend who has been patient long enough, stepping in beside Katherine and clearing her throat with the gentle authority of someone who has done this before.

We've got to go, Katie."

Katherine nodded. And for a moment she didn't move, which told its own story. She stood there with that small decision hanging visibly between them, the question of how this ended, whether this moment dissolved into campus noise and left nothing behind, or whether it left something concrete, something that could be picked up again.

Chris watched her think. He did not rush her. He did not reach for her arm or lean in or apply any of the pressure that lesser men applied when they sensed a moment slipping. He simply stayed where he was, easy, present, unhurried, and let her make the choice entirely on her own.

She reached into the front pocket of his hoodie.

He didn't move.

Her fingers found his phone, pulled it out, put it on Chris’s face to be unlocked. She did it in that casual way that suggested she had done this before or at least was very comfortable with herself, and typed in her number. Saved it under her name. Handed it back.

You can text me," she said. "But don't call. I won't pick up."

I'll text you," Chris said.

Chris knew exactly what he was going to do he was not a guy who play by the rules neither does he listen to ladies making rules for him. So in that moment he had to just played along so Katherine wasn’t going to think otherwise.

Chris boldness when it comes to women was undebatable. He owns every conversations , he was always in charge but for Katherine he wanted to play by her rule just to get what wanted.

In that moment Katherine looked at him for one more second. Just one. The kind of second that holds more content than most minutes. Then Rachel linked her arm and the three of them moved away, Emily already pulling out her own phone, Rachel already leaning toward Katherine and saying something in a low voice that made Katherine shake her head with a smile.

Chris stood where he was.

He watched them go. He watched the way Katherine moved, that same unhurried self-possession that had first caught his eye. He watched Rachel say something that made all three of them laugh. He watched until they turned the corner near the lecture hall and disappeared from view.

Then Katherine glanced back.

Just once. Over her shoulder, quick, the way you check to see if something is still where you left it. And she saw Chris standing there, no longer leaning against anything, no longer performing casual ease, just standing in the middle of the walkway with his phone in his hand and the widest, most unguarded grin spreading across his face, the kind of grin you make when you think nobody is watching.

She smiled. Turned back around. Kept walking.

And Chris, catching himself, pulled the expression back in and stood there for a moment looking at the corner she had disappeared around. He looked down at his phone. Her name sat there in his contacts, clean and simple. Katherine. No last name. No emoji. Just the name she had typed herself.

He exhaled slowly.