Chapter 3: Aunt Lisa’s Call

It wasn’t until Aunt Lisa called to wake me up that I realized the hashtag about me and Ryan Caldwell had been trending all night.

Her voice on the phone was thick with concern and full-on Midwest mom energy: “Honey, your face is everywhere. Are you okay? Should I come down? I can bring that tuna casserole you like. And did you see Channel 8 this morning? You’re practically famous.”

It was still near the top of the list.

I clicked on the trending video, caught off guard by the sight of my younger self from ten years ago.

The nostalgia hit hard. My hair was longer back then, my eyes brighter. In the comments, strangers tried to piece together our old story, as if they could crowdsource the truth of it.

It took me a long time to dig up that memory from the back of my mind.

That was the year after graduation—I’d gone with Ryan to Silver Hollow, chasing acting gigs.

He acted; I worked odd jobs.

While working, I met a man claiming to be filming a documentary. He asked if I wanted to appear in it.

I wasn’t interested, of course.

But he acted like he hadn’t heard me, trailing after me no matter how I tried to brush him off.

Since he just stood there with his camera and didn’t get in my way, I eventually gave up trying to chase him off and let him do as he pleased.

Aunt Lisa asked if I wanted to call the cops to handle it.

She was dead serious about that, too. “Natalie, you never know with these artsy types. Last week I saw a Dateline episode about—” I cut her off before she could spiral.

I thought for a moment and shook my head.

“No need. It’s actually good to get a bit of buzz.”

Out of curiosity, I scrolled through the comments, expecting the usual barrage of insults, like I was some bug crawling in filth.

But this time, the comments took an unexpected turn.

[Help, am I allowed to say this? Why do I feel like I’m shipping them?]

[You’re not alone.]

[It’s weird, but honestly, it’s hard not to ship. Did you see Natalie’s eyes?]

[Me too. I haven’t seen such pure, loving eyes in ages. Reminds me of when I wasn’t so jaded.]

[Back then, Natalie worked three jobs a day for Ryan. God, I used to bash her, but now… sigh, I don’t even know what to say.]

[No matter how it ended, true love is rare.]

There was something so American about the way people flipped their opinions at the drop of a hat—nothing is more magnetic than an underdog, nothing more moving than real devotion. The snarky sarcasm in the comments blended with genuine sentiment, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like shutting the world out.

Curious, I watched the video again.

I wanted to see what kind of look or gesture from my past could make public opinion do a complete 180 compared to five years ago.

A full decade had passed.

After all that time, my memories of those days were actually pretty fuzzy.

But just like the comments said, in the video, the twenty-three-year-old Natalie Cross’s undisguised love for Ryan Caldwell was so raw and passionate it was impossible not to be moved.