14. Awa
Chapter fourteen
Awa
The shrill beeping of my alarm yanks me out of a deep, delicious sleep.
It's morning. The sun's rays peek through the blinds to paint stripes on my pillow.
I hear water running from the shared showers at the end of the hall.
But most importantly, it's my first ever morning after with a boy.
A man, I correct myself, though a girlish squeal still fights to break free at the thought.
The cool sheets skim my naked body. Last night's decadence pulses between my legs. Several vertebrae and toes pop as I stretch, and I release a pleased hum. I want to savor this moment. Luxuriate in every sensation.
Every sensation except the piercing chimes emanating from the infernal device on my nightstand. I let out a tiny growl as I reach to silence it, but I'm not upset. Not really. How could I be, when all my romcom-fueled fantasies just came true?
Noah kissed me. Noah more than kissed me! Noah touched me like a man touches a woman. I will never be the same.
Good, a small voice whispers from a quiet place in the back of my mind. A voice I've done my best to ignore so I could focus on school and not the ache in my chest as the life I want passes me by.
The Awa Faye from yesterday was boring. Smart, driven…and lonely. She was a perfectly respectable young lady who had no idea how good she could feel. Not until Noah Park.
I swoon, snuggling deeper into my comforter, until I realize my alarm hasn't stopped.
I stick my arm out again—I must've hit snooze—careful not to jostle the mattress too much, lest I wake up the angel who made me see God last night, but there's nothing.
The bed next to me is not only empty but cold; he must've left hours ago.
Confusion wrinkles my brow, but the damn alarm is still blaring.
I snatch it up, my afterglow well and truly shattered, only to find it's not my alarm. My phone is ringing, and whoever it is must've been calling for several minutes now. I look at the display.
Maman
I slam the phone back down on the nightstand.
Why is she calling? Does she know what I was doing last night? Is it possible there was a hidden camera somewhere and I've had a sex video leaked online? Did it go viral, and it's already gotten back to my parents in Dakar?
I'm panicking, literally sweating, thinking about all the possibilities that might warrant a call, before my logic finally engages to stop my spiraling.
Present circumstances aside, do I really think Noah would do that?
Plant a hidden camera and release the video of our night together?
No, I do not. He may have left without saying goodbye—a fact I will make sure to discuss with him later today—but I don't think he's a predator.
An inappropriate video would hurt him just as much as it hurts me.
And who am I, anyway? Outside of Noah, my parents, and maybe Sybil, would anyone else care if I had a sex tape?
It's my third year at this school, but I'm no more well-liked or even known than I was on day one of freshman year.
My inability to get close to people, to form genuine connections with people, didn't start in college either.
I'm interrupted from further brooding when my phone protests once again. I clear my throat, brace myself, and answer.
"Hi Maman," I say, injecting as much courtesy as I can while being this dejected. Why isn't Noah here?
"Hein, is that how you answer when your mother calls? Your father works hard to send you to that school. The least you can do is show us some respect when we call."
"Sorry, Maman," I apologize, slipping into the role of dutiful daughter I've perfected over a lifetime.
"Why did it take you so long to answer?" she asks, her voice laced with suspicion. "Isn't it early where you are?"
I check my watch to see that it's just after eight in the morning.
"Yes, Maman, but I don't have class on Fridays. I was sleeping in."
She grumbles disapprovingly.
"C'est ridicule. Don't tell me you're lazing about in bed when you could be studying. The LSAT is just months away."
I want to groan, but that would certainly earn me a sound lecture. Instead, I press my resentment down and force a smile, hoping it comes across in my voice.
"I know, Maman. All the guides say to focus on maintaining your GPA and not to start too early or you'll burn out. Today, I have practice for the mock trial team, and then I plan to start on the outline for my Comparative Political Institutions paper."
She grunts again, this time in reluctant approval.
"D'accord, ma chou. Just remember to eat something and drink plenty of water. Papa and I are praying for you as always."
When the phone disconnects, I drop back onto my pillows, sighing noisily.
I'm in a terrible mood. My mother's ambush call with a healthy serving of parental guilt wasn't out of the ordinary—I get those at least once a week.
And I understand them holding on a little too tight.
I'm their only child after several miscarriages and a difficult pregnancy.
Though the pressure sometimes makes me feel like I can't breathe, I want to make them proud.
But I'm also New Awa now. New Awa is pissed she woke up alone after a night that shifted something so consequential inside her.
Something that validated my lifelong obsession with true love and romance, even when the world around me refused to acknowledge the heart beating so ardently inside my chest. My time is limited, as my mother was so kind to remind me, and yet I'm taking completely unnecessary courses just for the chance to work in an industry I've been enamored with since I first stayed up to watch "Poetic Justice".
I take a deep breath to calm myself. Maybe he left me a message?
I turn the phone over in my hand, but other than three missed calls from home, there's nothing.
I look at the nightstand; there's no note.
I want to believe Noah wouldn't do this.
That maybe this is all some terrible misunderstanding; a miscommunication that I'll surely clear up with a quick text.
Noah
Hey, I missed you this morning. What happened?
I immediately wish I could unsend the text. I miss him? God, could I sound any more clingy? I get up and make the bed, trying not to obsess over the blunder.
After a few minutes, my phone finally dings.
Noah
Noah: Sorry. Went back to my dorm to change and wound up heading to the gym.
I let out a breath in relief. I should've known he didn't ditch me. He could've texted, but I've heard plenty of guys have terrible phone etiquette.
Noah
No worries. You wanna meet for brunch?
Or I could pick up some croissants and meet at your place, since we never got to eat dinner last night.
After a moment's hesitation, I add a winky face emoji. It's my first emoji beyond a smiley face, and a thrill runs up my spine. I'm flirting!
Noah's response is immediate.
Noah
Noah: Can't. Meeting with my TA.
When five minutes go by without another text, I get a niggling feeling. I know all about being busy—between classes and clubs, I barely sleep some nights—but something seems off. His texts are clipped, missing their usual charm. Did I do something wrong?
Rather than obsess about it, I shower and start my day. I wasn't lying to my mother; I am busy. Hopefully by tomorrow, or maybe even later tonight, everything will be back to normal.
December 2005
"Awa?!"
Sybil does a double-take as she leaves the pickup counter, a Funfetti Cake Shake in one hand and her half-open satchel in the other. I clear my laptop bag off the neighboring seat when she makes a beeline for me.
Ground Zero feels more crowded than usual tonight. Every couch is occupied, and someone tried to steal my seat when I went to the bathroom, even with my laptop on the table and my jacket on the back of the chair. I guess finals has everyone a little crazy.
This is hardly my usual study spot—I've only been here a handful of times—but I couldn't stay in my room. Not now that it feels like the site of the biggest embarrassment of my life. So far, my brain supplies unhelpfully, and I snort into my lukewarm coffee.
"What are you doing here, girl?" Sybil asks, jostling me when she drops onto the couch beside me.
"I needed a change of scenery," I answer, reaching down to pick up the papers that fell when she sat down. She gives me a thoughtful look while sipping her drink.
"Look, Awa. Please feel free to tell me to fuck right off if it's none of my business, but did something happen with you and Noah? I feel like it's been weeks since I've seen him around."
A month, actually. Not that I've been counting or anything.
Ever since the night that I try not to think about but that still haunts my dreams, Noah's been a ghost. First, it was his gym schedule.
Then it was extra tutoring with his TA. That was already weird, since we'd been studying for weeks, and I never knew him to get less than an A-.
But hey, I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.
When I stopped by with some of the egg rolls he likes, he thanked me but sent me away, saying he was in the middle of some drama with his roommates. And then later that week he forgot about our session. Forgot!
Of course, I still keep seeing him everywhere. Reading in Doheny Memorial Library. Eating in Seeds. I saw him walk into Ground Zero a few days ago; I'm not deluded enough to pretend that's not another reason I'm here now. But ever since that night, unless we're in class, it's like I'm invisible.
I may not know firsthand, but I've seen this play out a thousand times in film.
The nerdy girl starts dating the jock, only for him to drop her when they finally have sex.
I used to pity that girl, wondering how she couldn't see through the jock's schemes.
Now, I am that girl. Thank goodness we didn't go all the way. We went far enough, though…
I clear my throat, turning back to my concerned roommate.
"Things got too busy with class, so we decided to stop meeting up." I don't elaborate because that story is just as likely to be the truth as anything.
Do I believe his new behavior is because of a packed schedule? No. Do I have any way to get the truth about what really went down? Also no. Do I really want to know if how he's been acting has something to do with that night? Something I did wrong without realizing?
…No?
"Well," she says tentatively, clearly not buying my story, "I'm glad I ran into you. I fly home tomorrow afternoon. Since you'll be here over break, would you water my succulent again?"
"Sure," I reply. My family can only afford one flight home per year, which I usually save for the summer. This year, I'm hoping to intern at an agency, but my parents will both be flying in for graduation next year. I can't wait.
"You're the best," she beams before gathering her things and heading out like a whirlwind. It's the same way she arrived at my table, and I smile to myself. At least some things don't change.
"Is your friend coming back?" a girl with carrot-red hair in choppy layers asks. I shake my head.
"I'm actually leaving, so you can have my seat too." This place is way too loud and active to get any real studying done.
"Thanks!" she chirps. She turns to someone behind her. "C'mon, Noah! I lucked out and got us two seats."
I freeze, halfway between sitting and standing, with my mouth wide open. Noah's spotted me too, and he looks just as stunned. Reflexively, I take another look at the girl who wants my seat. She's tall and willowy, like Kirsten Dunst in "Spider-Man 2". OK. So that's his type.
"Noah, hi," I croak. I straighten and pull my backpack and laptop bag onto my shoulder. Kirsten (or whatever her name is) looks between us.
"You two know each other?" she asks. In her voice is confusion, but also annoyance. What girl wants another girl to interrupt her date? Or whatever this is...
"Not really," I say, saving everyone from an awkward pause. "He's just in a few of my classes."
"Oh," Kirsten murmurs, more subdued now. "Well, thank you again."
I nod and exit the cafe like the back of my shirt is on fire. I may have even left my headphones. Whatever. Maybe Noah will recognize them and give them back to me in class.
I'm out the door and about to sprint as fast as I can in beige pumps when I feel a hand on my arm. I reel around, knowing without looking that it's Noah.
"Let go of me," I demand, my voice deadly quiet. Noah releases me immediately and steps back to give me more space.
"Whoa, whoa, Awa. You ran out so fast, you left your headphones."
He extends his hand, offering up the tangled wires.
"Thanks," I snap, grabbing the headphones and turning to leave again.
"Wait!" Noah yells. I stop, but I don't turn. For once, I'm the one who gets to turn their back on someone. I hear his sigh.
"Awa, I don't understand why you're acting weird. It's not like Emma and I are on a date, and it's not like you and I are together either."
My shoulders slump, and I have to hitch up my bag to keep it from falling.
Noah walks around to face me, but my expression has him cursing. He rakes his hand through his hair.
"Shit! I knew hooking up with you was a bad idea, but I did it anyway," he chastises himself. "Girls like you always get the wrong idea."
"The wrong idea?" I grit out, keeping my voice low so it won't break around the lump in my throat.
"Yeah!" he barks. "The wrong idea. Like that we're together when really it was just supposed to be a little fun. I told you that from the beginning!"
I stare at him for long moments, this man I thought I knew. This man who gave me pleasure beyond belief, convinced me he understood my heart, then bailed.
I blink back the beginnings of tears.
"You said we'd be friends after, then you left without a word. Ignored me for weeks." I shake my head, disappointed. "No, I think you got what you wanted, so you ghosted me."
He frowns.
"I didn't ghost you."
"Well, you should," I interrupt before he can say anything worse than he already has. "You should go back inside to that girl, I should go home to finish studying, and we both should forget any of this ever happened."
"Awa." He draws my name out, turning it into a plea.
I don't stay to hear him out. I don't need to. I've seen this movie. I'll just skip to the montage where I get my shit together, graduate, and move on with my life. Maybe then I'll find a guy who is worth crying over.