The Irony is That This Cell Phone Has Gone Through Dante's Inferno and Back and Still Looks Better Than You

In truth, Natalia never liked her first name. It felt like marbles rolling off her tongue whenever she introduced herself.

It was during a game of hide and seek with James and Will when she was seven that she finally expressed this sentiment.

James cupped his hands to get ready for her foot, prepared to boost her up high enough to reach the tree branch. Was it cheating to climb a tree during hide and seek? Maybe. Did they care? Not really.

“Come on, sweetheart. Will is gonna find us if you don’t hurry up.” With inky black hair and eyes the color of a blue Chips Ahoy cookie package, James was as awkward as every nine-year-old boy in existence.

Natalia thought sweetheart sounded strange in his voice. It didn’t sound much better in hers, either. She had practiced in front of the mirror once or twice.

“Why don’t you call me by my real name?” She asked, scrunching her nose like she always did as James used his willowy arms to hoist himself up beside her.

James swung his legs before looking contemplative for half a second.

“It’s a mouthful. Nah-tah-lee-uh. Feels like the time Will tried to kill me by shoving peanut butter in my mouth.” They both giggled, though later James would contest that it wasn’t a giggle but more like a manly chuckle.

“Let’s change it!” She suggested, hearing Will’s voice echo across the yard as he searched for them.

“To what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a nickname.”

James cocked his head to one side. “What about Talia? Or Nat?”

Natalia perked up immediately, though she spoke at a whisper, as Will’s inquiries grew closer to their hideout. “Not Nat. It reminds me of that bug. I don’t wanna be named after a bug.”

“Talia, then, sweetheart.” James sounded like he was rather proud of himself for having been the one to come up with it.

“Talia.”

And so it was.