Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
The air at the party is thick with sweat, alcohol, and bad decisions. I’ve been absorbed into the tight mob of revellers. There’s got to be hundreds of hot bodies packed on the tiny dance floor, jumping, raving, and losing themselves to the EDM beats. I bop to the music, feeling the weight of loneliness and the bass vibrating through the soles of my sneakers.
A mix of painkillers, alcohol, and cannabis are my companions tonight. They’re helping, but not numbing me to the degree I need. It lingers at the back of my mind that my father was an addict, and I’ve been spiralling down a dark path of indulgence over the last few days. I don’t want to be like him, but in a lot of ways, I’m exactly like him. Sometimes, it scares me. I don’t want to die alone in my apartment and be found a week later, stinking and bloated.
There are times when I think, if only I had called my father more. If only I spent more time with him. If only I had made the time. Maybe he would still be here.
I drive a cute woman with a bright smile and dimples up against a wall. I kiss her. She kisses me back, and I feel nothing. There’s no desire. There’s no wanting. Nothing.
I don’t want to be like my dad, but I think I need another drink to feel something. I need to fill the emptiness.
I stumble back from Dimples and lace my fingers through hers. I navigate us through the crowd towards the bar located at the front of the venue. There’s a slow-moving queue to put an order in with the bartender. Me and Dimples take our spot at the tail of it.
Dimples wraps her arms around my waist and begins mopping my neck with her sloppy tongue. I’m not into it, but Dimples is cute and I don’t want to be alone tonight. So I allow it.
I don’t know what makes me choose that moment to look towards the front doors, but I do. When I see her, I freeze. What the fuck is she doing here? Who told her where to find me? It had to be Sarah—the traitor.
Noémie struts into the bar like she owns it. She walks up to the front table to pay her cover.
I feel nauseous all of a sudden. The four beers I downed earlier aren’t playing nice with my stomach.
Noémie slides out of her jacket—an oatmeal trench coat with an oversized collar—and hands it over to the woman working coat check. Tonight, she’s wearing a scant dress that hugs her body sinfully. More than ever, she looks like heartbreak packaged in an orange wrapper.
Seeing her rips me to pieces. Seeing her makes me want. Seeing her makes me feel.
Noémie turns, and our eyes meet. My breath catches.
Her grey eyes dart to Dimples whose mouth is latched onto my neck like a lamprey. The colour drains from her face, the confidence she strode into the bar with leaks out of her as her shoulders drop. Noémie’s eyes glitter in the dim lighting. Her lips thin. She balls her hands at her sides.
If those are indicators of jealousy, good. Fuck her. My feelings aren’t a game. I don’t owe her jack shit. I don’t owe her money, since I paid her last month’s rent when I moved in. I don’t owe her a reason for moving out. I don’t owe her my heart. She doesn’t deserve it.
I grab Dimples by her hair and pull her in hard, kissing her long and deeply. The woman moans into my mouth and melts against me. I’m very unstirred by the kiss, but knowing Noémie is watching gives me a sick thrill. I want her to hurt like I hurt.
A throat clears. “Line’s moving,” someone behind us says frustratingly.
I pull apart from Dimples. She smiles stupidly and tucks a lock of her black hair behind an ear. We shuffle forward.
Looking over my shoulder, I don’t see Noémie. She’s moved away. Gone somewhere else. I force myself not to look for her.
Dimples orders two beers and slaps a twenty on the bar top. The bartender cracks two bottles open and slides them down on the counter.
I pick up my Heineken and stare down the perspiring green neck. I take a very long swig. It doesn’t go down easy. My stomach is in knots, and the room is tilting a bit. Perhaps I should have heeded the warning on the prescription where it clearly states that the painkillers should not be taken with alcohol.
“I need to get some fresh air,” I say to Dimples. “Can you watch my drink?”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll wait here,” she says with an eager nod.
“Thanks.” I hand her my drink and kiss her on the cheek.
Outside, I gulp in the fresh air because I need it. Then, I pull out a pack of cigarettes. I smack one out of the carton and light up.
I suck hard on the filter, filling my lungs with smoke. The nicotine buzzes in my head.
A group of mostly dolled up femmes stand in a circle smoking. One of them catches my eye and smiles. She’s a platinum blond with a tan. She’s prettier than Dimples but obviously taken. A short king in a powder-blue suit wraps a possessive arm around her waist.
I sag against a wall and stare up at the night sky. I think I must be very high, because I stare so long that my cigarette burns all the way down to the filter.
“Jordan!”
Blinking, I turn my head and see Noémie stalking towards me. She looks pissed. Good.
Looking away from her, I smack another cigarette out of its carton and pop it between my lips.
Noémie stops when she’s a couple of feet away from me. “Jordan,” she says again.
I light my cigarette and blow out a cloud of smoke. If I ignore her, will she go away?
As I told Wayne and Sarah countless times, I do not want to talk to her. I don’t care if I’m being childish. Noémie can go fuck herself.
“Jordan, can you look at me? I’m trying to talk to you.”
I stare at the glowing end of my cigarette. “What’s there to talk about?”
She doesn’t say anything for a few beats, and then she whispers, “Us.”
That makes me look at her. “There is no us,” I sneer.
Noémie winces and steps towards me. “Don’t say that, Jordan. Don’t be like this.”
“Be like what?” I snap, tossing my cigarette on the ground and stomping it out with my foot. “I’m not a game. My feelings aren’t a game.”
She bites her lip. “You’re not a game. You’ve never been a game to me?—”
“You bet Wayne that you could tie me down. You paraded Felix around me to make me jealous. Sounds like all I ever was to you was a game,” I say, pushing off the wall. I shake my head. The world spins. I reach out to support myself. Bad move, I put too much pressure on my bad hand. “Shit,” I say, cradling my casted hand.
Noémie rushes over to me. I stop her with a harsh look.
I close my eyes momentarily, trying to ground myself. But it doesn’t really help. Even seeing only darkness, everything moves. “Fuck, I need to sit down,” I mumble, stumbling forward.
Noémie catches me. “Look, I’m parked across the street. We can sit in my car while we talk. Is that okay?”
I nod, not because I want to be alone in a car with her, but because it’s the only gesture I can make. My vision squishes together like my eyes are stress balls in a bodybuilder’s firm grip. I feel so sick.
I lean on Noémie as she escorts me across the street. The next thing I know, she’s helping me into the passenger seat. My body feels limp, like a soggy noodle. An elephant sits on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the window. The cool glass feels good on my face.
A second later, a woman is coaxing me awake and urging me to stand up. We walk for what feels like a hundred miles. A tiny wolf howls at me. It claws up my legs. I’m scared. Then there’s so much light, it hurts my eyes. I’m told to lie down, so I do.
Finally, everything goes dark again.
The headache I wake up with is one of the worst I’ve ever had, which is saying something.
Groaning, I sit up and immediately notice where I am. I’m at home—no, not home. Noémie’s place. I’m on the couch in the main room, and Noémie’s sitting at the other end watching me.
She doesn’t look like she’s gotten any sleep. Dark circles are painted under her eyes. She’s wearing a pair of plaid pyjama pants and an oversized white shirt. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun.
Noémie bolts to her feet and reaches for a glass of water sitting on the coffee table. She hands it to me. “Here, have some water.”
Parched, I don’t bother arguing. I take the offering, chugging it down and wiping my mouth afterwards. She takes the empty glass from me and sets it back down on the coffee table.
I rub my eyes. “Why am I here?”
“You passed out,” she says. “I’m assuming you were drinking while on your painkillers, which is never a good idea. Don’t ask me how I know.”
I look down at my lap. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
She kneels in front of me and squeezes my thigh. “Of course, I would never leave you like that.”
Remembering that I hate her, I snort.
“Jordan, we need to talk.”
“I don’t want to,” I say. “Talking won’t change things. It won’t change what you did.”
“What I did was wrong. I should never have made that bet with Wayne. It was stupid and inconsiderate, and I’m so sorry.” She’s looks up at me with wide, imploring eyes.
Turning my head, I stare out the window. “Why did you do it? I know why Wayne thinks you did it, but I want you to tell me.”
She sighs. For many moments, she’s silent. Then, she says, “Because I’m a horrible person. Because it was a challenge. Because I was trying to find a way to rebuild my pride after what happened with Cara.” The last reason, she whispers. “Because I wanted you.”
I stare at her. “Everything between us was a lie. You lied about everything. I thought we were friends. I told you things I never talk about. I trusted you.” My voice breaks, and I clear my throat before continuing, “And for what—a place in my bed? I’ve been told that I fuck everyone. If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”
Noémie’s face burns like I slapped her. She shoots to her feet with clenched hands. “I didn’t want you to fuck me. I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to be in your life. I didn’t want to be another name added to the long list of women you fuck and ghost,” she snaps.
I want to say that I wouldn’t have fucked and ghosted her, but that wouldn’t be true. “And you think that justifies you seducing me?—”
“Seducing you?” Noémie rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. “Merde, I was not trying to seduce you. If I was trying to seduce you, I would have walked around the house in lingerie.”
“I’m not buying that all those elaborate dinners weren’t part of your greater scheme to lock me down,” I say. Our fight is making my headache worse. I rub my temples.
Noémie grits her teeth. “Maybe at first,” she admits. She drops down on the couch beside me and exhales a loud breath. “But then, I just did it because I liked cooking for you. I liked getting you to try new things. I just liked being with you.”
Our legs are touching, and I consider moving over.
“You know, I started falling for you around Halloween,” I confess, deciding to put everything on the table. Better to leave no stone unturned before ending things between us for good. Trust is the foundation of any healthy relationship, and I can never trust Noémie. She’s a liar. “But I thought you were straight, and I valued our friendship. I loved you so much it hurts.”
“Loved,” she repeats. Her eyes go glassy. “You don’t love me anymore?”
I do love her—even after everything. But love isn’t enough.
“I need to go,” I say. Shaking my head, I stand up—a little too quickly. The world spins. I wince.
“Really, you’re not going to answer my question? You’re just going to go? You’re going to run away because of some stupid bet that I wasn’t even taking all that seriously,” she says.
I begin walking towards the front door.
Noémie follows after me. “I love you, Jordan. I want to be with you, and I know you want to be with me too,” she says. “Let’s try to work this out. Please.”
Turning, I glare at her. “We can’t be together.”
“Why not?” Tears well in her grey eyes. She blinks, and they spill down her cheeks.
A ball forms in my throat. My heart weighs a million pounds in my chest. “Because I can’t trust you, and I don’t think I ever can.”
Noémie stares up at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, and then she’s crying into her hands. Each of her sobs is a spike hammered through heart.
The lure to go to her and take back my words is stronger than any drug I’ve ever taken. I want to enfold her in my arms and get high on her scent. I want to get drunk off kissing her tears away. And that’s why I need to leave. I can’t be around her and not succumb to the pressure of doing what my foolish heart wants.
I grab my jacket from the coat closet. Céline whines and then yawns as I exit through the front door.
I make it a block before throwing up.