Blake, Cris, and I went to the movies. It was nice, apart from the fact that it was the very place where Donovan and I used to “watch movies”. We even ended up in the same theater room. It would have been too much of a coincidence if we had gotten the same seats, thankfully we didn’t, but I kept an eye on them. Just the memory brought back the heat of those moments, stirring a longing between my legs that almost drove me straight out the door. However, the gory scenes on the screen quickly grounded me back to my reserved self.
How long has it been since I last had sex? And when did I start asking myself that? Oh, right, since the last time I genuinely enjoyed it. Who was that with? Yes, with the very night stalker who kept me up last night, resulting in these huge dark circles under my eyes and a cascade of disheartening thoughts about a future without him. It’s ludicrous, I know. The best thing for me would be a life without Donovan… The best in terms of mental sanity, emotional stability, and overall safety. Yet, the idea of falling in love with anyone else but him feels so alien. It’s also illogical to confine myself to that thought. No love can break you, nor can it halt your life. But if any love could, it would be a constant reminder of him, his existence, and what he meant in my life.
And where is all of this coming from? The movie’s protagonist is currently weeping over her fiance’s noble death, and here I am, like a fool, holding back tears for reasons completely unrelated to the scenes unfolding before me.
I held back, though. Cris’s uproarious laughter and the nervous squeezes he gave my leg pulled me away from the dark space my mind had trapped me in.
Well, maybe not entirely.
Blake was clearly into me, and the idea wasn’t unappealing. What if…?
It would just be a way for me to prove to myself that I can move on. Maybe I could have casual sex, a release until I leave this hellhole of a town.
Or perhaps I could just keep relying on self-pleasure.
Or maybe I could just call Donovan…
No.
Don’t even think it, Celina.
You’ve got the thought lodged in your mind now, it won’t leave. Act on something, anything.
I kept repeating this to myself until the movie ended and we stepped out for some ice cream.
The fresh air provided a clearer perspective.
I’m going to sleep with Blake. That’s settled.
Quite decisive of me, right? If only I were this determined in every aspect of my life.
“You’re never picking the movie again, Celina,” Cris decreed, rolling his eyes and stomping towards Blake’s car like a petulant child.
“It wasn’t that bad…” Blake defended, letting my disgruntled friend walk ahead and falling into step beside me. “Did you like it?”
His question caught me off-guard. I had hoped he wouldn’t ask, given I hadn’t paid much attention after the first half.
“Do you really need to ask her that? The last thing she was focused on was the film. She was too busy eyeing the seats in front of us. I tried getting her back into the movie multiple times, but none of my attempts got through,” I said, hoping to divert the topic.
My face went red-hot. Cris, for all his good qualities, also had many not-so-good ones. He had this nasty habit of spewing out something either cruel or embarrassing whenever he disliked something, and he always caught it right after, a look of regret instantly replacing his initial smugness. He turned back to us and there it was, that apologetic gaze. “I said it because Celina has been so buried in her studies lately, she hardly even sleeps anymore. She can’t focus on anything. Oh, my poor friend…”
He quickly approached and hugged me, whispering into my ear. “I’m the best at defusing awkward situations, right? Tell me I am, or I’ll throw myself into oncoming traffic.”
I chuckled at his usual antics and hugged him back. “An absolute genius.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
I was too emotionally raw to be mad at Cris and too intrigued to let Blake head home tonight. After dropping my friend off, I took a chance and asked my potential hookup if he’d like to come over for a bit. He agreed, I knew he would.
Any shyness I might have felt disappeared as I snuck him through the dim living room, taking soft, silent steps up the stairs to my room. Once inside, before turning on the light, I thought I saw a shadow at my window. My worst fears came to mind; I wasn’t ready for Blake to be on the receiving end of a black eye.
I flicked the light switch, and the room was empty. Great. Not like I secretly wished he had been there. No way.
“Nice room,” Blake broke the silence as I stopped staring at my window. “It’s very… you.”
“Oh, really? And what would that be?”
“It’s straightforward.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” I replied with a hint of sarcasm.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” he said, lightly smacking his forehead with his hand while laughing. “It’s simple, yet warm and filled with quirks. Like the notes scattered everywhere… The cushions at the foot of the bed, the hair ties on the nightstand, which I’ve never seen you wear when we meet up. So, I guess you use them when studying or reading?”
I nod, glancing around my room. It feels odd hearing his observations, but he’s right. We all have our little things that make our spaces very… us. Continuing his thought, I add, “The marks on the desk and the pencils next to them, as if they’re part of a crime scene I set up.”
I didn’t realize he had moved closer until he spoke, “It’s simple and charming.”
His sudden proximity made me jittery, and not in an exciting way, but in a weird one. “Wait here. I’ll just go greet someone in the house, so it’s not suspicious… Do you want anything?”
He shook his head, giving me a thumbs up. “No, I’m good. I’ll wait right here.”
I practically dashed to my mother’s room. I hadn’t seen her since this morning and wanted to spend a few seconds with her while she was awake. Hearing her voice always comforted me when she wasn’t shouting.
Reaching her room, I saw her closed eyes and the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. She was in deep sleep. I missed her today. I hope she didn’t notice, although she usually doesn’t…
“Who’s she?” Blake whispered beside me, startling me.
Up to this point, I didn’t realize how much he could catch me off guard. He’s a bit too intrusive. “What are you doing here? I told you to wait in my room.”
“I’m sorry. It felt weird intruding on such a personal space. I didn’t even know if I should sit on your bed.”
“You’re overthinking,” I took his arm, leading him back to my sanctuary. “That’s my mom. Please, don’t mention this to anyone.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Schizophrenia.”
An awkward silence shaped the night. How could I possibly salvage the conversation after this? “I’m sorry,” he finally murmured.
I shook my head; he had nothing to apologize for. Closing the door behind me, I pondered my next move. “You don’t have to be,” I responded. “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”
Moving quickly towards him, I cradled his face in my hands, pressing my lips to his, desperate to feel something.
Yet, to my surprise, I felt nothing.
Before I could break away, he did. “That was a beautiful kiss, just at the wrong moment,” he whispered.
I nodded repeatedly, burying my face in his chest. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to…”
“It’s okay. It’s clear you’re trying to get over Donovan, and you hoped that by using me, it would help,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, even if his words stung more than I’d ever admit. “Maybe if you hadn’t approached it out of frustration, I would’ve played along.”
A couple of tears dared to escape, even as I fought them back with every fiber of my being. “I understand that you don’t want anyone’s pity, but I didn’t pity you, Celina. I tried to empathize. Some people genuinely want to help, even if it’s just as friends. I trust my judgment, and I see that you’re worth it. You’re kind-hearted, even if you have a temper.”
This had to be the guy; I couldn’t let him go. Lifting my gaze, I tried to kiss him again, but he stopped me. “No, you won’t,” he insisted.
“I want to. I need to.”
“You want someone else, not me,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders and gently pushing me back. “Don’t come close again because if you do, I might let things happen, and this entire speech will be for nothing.”
Biting my lip, I fought back the urge to break down like a child. I wanted this to work so badly.