Chapter 8 - Noelle
I wake up in my bed and blink at the harsh lighting coming through the bedroom window. Ugh, what the fuck? My head hurts and I’m sluggish like I have a hangover. I’m under the covers but I’m in my clothes I wore last night, and my high heels are still on. Damn, how drunk did I get?
Memories of Nick flood through me, and I sigh.
God, it would be nice if I were waking up with him today.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand and notice my purse is dangling from its strap around my wrist. Oh hey, look what showed up.
When I pick up the phone, I check the time and see I have a message waiting from Sarah.
I tap it open and a video plays instantly.
Someone else must be filming it because neither of us are holding the phone.
Sarah has a beer bottle in her hand with her other arm draped around my shoulders.
I’m zoned-out with a drunken appearance and I’m holding an almost empty mug. Oh shit, I did drink last night.
Sarah waves her bottle at the camera. “This is for future Noelle. She wants to leave herself a message.” She pushes on my elbow. “Go ahead.”
“Oh.” I stumble slightly from her nudge, and my words are slurred.
“So this is for Future Noelle—that’s me, in case you didn’t know—but Future Me, I wanna tell you something.
” I pause for a moment, as if gathering my thoughts.
“Oh, yeah, you need to know that your panties are in some guy’s mouth.
I shoved them in there.” When I giggle, I can’t continue talking.
Sarah smiles at me. “You didn’t do that!”
I nod enthusiastically at Sarah and find my voice again.
“Oh, yes, I did. Poor guy didn’t know what hit him.
” Sarah laughs and distracts drunk-me, but I focus and continue on.
“Oh, but you need to know, it was a dream. I know it ’cause I was here drinking with this fine bunch.
” I gesture towards people offscreen, and a collective cheer bursts out as the video pans around to show the table full of Sarah’s friends waving at me.
I hear my voice off camera. “So, yeah, it was all just a dream!” and the video ends.
I sit up as quickly as my pounding head will allow and wince at the pain.
Well, fuck. Part of me really hoped it was real, but it looks like I got drunk and imagined the whole thing.
A stab of disappointment runs through me and I let out a huge sigh.
My stomach clenches and I’m nauseous, but I don’t know if it’s from knowing it wasn’t real or if I’m hung over.
The room is blurry so I rub my eyes hoping to clear them.
When I blink, my vision is a little better.
This is why I don’t drink often. Yawning wide, I feel something on my chin and I have to scrub around my mouth to get the crusted saliva off.
Jesus, what was I doing? Drooling heavily in my sleep?
I remember Sean’s cock in my mouth and snicker.
Well, that didn’t happen. At least this time, I know why my panties are missing.
Thinking about my naked bottom half brings attention to my sore pussy.
Uh… what’s this? I reach my hands between my legs, and I’m a wet mess.
Did I have sex with someone at the bar? Thoughts of Nick war in my head with the reality of the video.
I don’t know what to think and my thumping head isn’t helping.
I take a few calming deep breaths and the pain in my skull eases as a sudden clarity startles me.
Oh shit. I was falling for Nick. We barely did anything but have sex, but every time in the moment when I first saw him, under the rush of excitement I always felt as if I was running into the arms of my missing half.
Everything felt perfect around him. Which makes sense because it was just a fucking dream and a man I made up in my head.
I’m not sure I can keep doing this to myself every holiday. I’m not moving forward in my life because I’m just waiting for the next time I see him.
I punch my pillow and swear. “Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.”