34. Sick
SICK
I leave the bathroom with the sickness weakening, but it still lingers.
Someone exposed my nudes throughout the school, and I’m thinking about transferring schools on the other side of the world and hiding there until I fade away in silence.
“Hey, Noya,” Conner purrs as his arms wrap around my waist.
“C-Conner,” I say, and the heat burns against my cheeks.
His head rests against the top of my head as he embraces me from behind, catching me completely off guard. “Sammy told me where you were, so I thought to wait.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmur as I unclasp his hands from around me.
“But I wanted to.” He leans into me, a half-smile reaching his lips. “I’m addicted to you.”
“Do I need to take you to an AA meeting or something?” I laugh.
Conner chuckles. “What’s so bad about having an obsession? You cannot tell me someone doesn’t have an addiction or obsession with something.”
I press my lips inward and shrug.
“My addiction just so happens to be human…” He furrows his brows as he says, “I mean, if you didn’t reciprocate it, I could see how that could be questionable.”
“Very,” I agree.
“Ohemmgee! Look at her nipples. She’s so turned on. It’s gross!” a teenager sniggers as she walks past me.
“I was cold,” I mumble.
“Hmm?” Conner responds.
“Nothing,” I say. Then I look at Conner, wondering if I can push the conversation so he thinks nothing of it. “Um…did you see the picture of a girl going around school?”
He eyes me, and I try not to look away and keep my focus on him. If I look away, I know his gears will turn, twisting in ways that can figure out the meanings behind my words.
I don’t need that. I need to stand my ground and seem like that image isn’t of me.
But my stomach stirs in wonder at who has it?
No one has said it was me, so the girls who took it on the camping trip must have found a hole and thought it would be funny as they shared it around school in the hopes someone might come clean about it.
I will not do that.
“I did,” he admits, and my eyes widen slightly, and a shallow breath slips through my clenched teeth.
“But I don’t have it. Without warning, guys from my year held it up to my face, and I glimpsed it.
” He tweaks an eye. “It’s not my thing to keep a random girl’s nudes on my phone.
” Conner’s hand finds mine, and he laces his fingers between the gaps in mine.
“So don’t be jealous that I saw the photo.
It meant nothing, nor did it turn me on. ”
I smile, but my insides knot. Part of me wants to tell Conner it was me and see how he would react. Would his eyes widen and jaw drop? Or would he look at me with repulsion, disturbed by the yellow and purple blotches that plague my skin?
“Oh…” I can’t think of anything else to say, and as we round the corner, Andy with Wylan, all the words in my vocabulary vanish, leaving me without a voice.
Andy looks over, his focus moving between Conner and me, back to Conner, and then down at his hands. With a curl of his upper lip, I expect violent words to seep out, but he turns away and goes back to talking to Wylan.
Dylan and Samantha are behind a tree, sharing a cigarette. As she sees me, she waves, and I smile back at her, but I know my smile will not reach my eyes today.
“Noya.” Conner spins me around until I face him. There’s a serious look to him as he says, “I’m going to talk to Andy now.”
I dart a look at Andy, then at Conner. His eyes dilate and his jaw clenches. “But…”
“I’ll be back soon, baby,” he says as he leans into me and his mouth clashes against mine. The tension teases, and my worries are extinguished for now.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I say as he leans away.
“We’re just going to go for a walk and talk.” Conner’s eyes narrow. “And I’m going to make sure he never fucking touches you again.”
“Con—”
After another brief kiss, he releases his hold on me and heads toward Andy. His hands are in his pockets, and he walks with pride, his back arched, and his presence is like sheer dominance. That alone gets Andy to put his guard up and face Conner, who seems to tower over Andy.
Samantha runs over to me and says, “What’s happening?”
“They’re talking…I think,” I answer nervously.
Conner speaks first, and Andy gives me a dark look, making me instinctively flinch. Samantha wraps her arm around me and nods to Dylan when he says he will go over there in case there’s collateral.
Andy nods, and they start towards Samantha and me.
We step away as they walk past. Andy and Conner head to the school’s front, then turn left and jump the fence.
They keep going towards the shopping outlet, and Dylan stops at the gate, unsure if he should leave when I tell Sam they should be alright.
Samantha texts Dylan to leave them be, and he returns.
“What’s happening?” Samantha to Dylan.
“Conner wanted to talk to Andy in private, so Andy suggested they leave the school grounds, and Conner agreed,” Dylan answers. “I overheard a little, but I got the vibe that they didn’t want me there.”
“What did Andy say?”
“Something about, ‘If this is about Noya, you wouldn’t understand’.
But then Conner interrupted and said, ‘I’m talking, and you’re listening.
After I finish, you can say whatever fucking lies you want to keep you sane, but you will listen to what I have to say first’.
I was a little intimidated myself.” Dylan laughs nervously.
“No shit,” Samana says.
I grab my phone, enter messages, and text Conner as the bell for class rings. Samantha and Dylan make their way to Hospitality, while I head to Ancient History. As I enter the room, Mr Brown has a hold of my assignment. “I can’t wait to read it!”
I duck my head and move to the middle row of seats, by the window.
Julien is in my class and usually sits behind me. Typically, I won’t notice, and he won’t take note of me, but my senses heighten after learning what he has on his phone. The fear of him tapping me on the shoulder and asking if the photo he has is of me makes my body grow rigid.
“Dude,” Julian whispers to Logan. “Admit that the girl in the photo looks hot.”
“That’s what I said to Amber, and she got all pissy at me.” There’s a pause. “Whatever—Mark told me Amber was down, but we have done nothing yet. At least I have this now.”
“My right hand is getting some action tonight, if you know what I mean,” Julien chuckles.
The bile rises, sickening that someone is…that they are…that my body.
I raise my hand.
“Yes, Noya,” Mr Brown calls.
“Can I use the bathroom, please?”
“Sure. Make sure you take a hall pass.”
I grab the hall pass from the desk and walk out. My body feels like jelly, but I need to move and get to the—
I collide with someone as I take the stairs two at a time.
“Whoa!” they say, their voice familiar. As I lean against the cool bricks, Aaron touches my arm. I flinch away from him, and he raises his hands and says, “Sorry, you just came rushing down the stairs.”
I drag my hand down to my mouth and wipe the sweat accumulating across my upper lip.
“Oh, it’s you, Noya. How’s it going?”
“Go—” I clap my hand over my mouth and rush down the remainder of the stairs and make my way to the toilets.
Funny how I ran all that way, and I didn’t vomit.
It’s not until I open the lid, lean into the toilet and hurl.
My back hunches, and my throat burns from the excess fluid as I imagine the haunting image everyone else is seeing of me.
I may need to go home. I’m sick whenever someone mentions the—I wallow the burning lump in my throat—photo. This isn’t good. I can’t do what I mentally prepared myself to do earlier. It’s like a reaction.
I’ve never looked at myself in the mirror. Not in a long time. And sometimes, I don’t even know what I look like. Whenever I look in the mirror, it’s at the bruises. However, that picture shows me, and I looked at every bone and bruise, feeling disgusted with myself.
Almost everyone in the school has a photo of me. Exploiting and tearing me apart like I’m some science experiment. They’re scrutinising, spreading lies, and twisting their narrative for attention.
I don’t like it.
I want them to leave me alone.
The bell for class ends, and my bag is still in the classroom. Opening the stall, I splash water on my face and cool the burning heat. As I head out, I hope to contain this overwhelming sickness.
Mr Brown asks if I’m okay as I hand him the hall pass once I enter the room. With a faint smile, I grab my bag and make my way to Creative Arts. I enter late, but Mr Rogers is too busy reading his book to care.
Andy is absent, but Conner is at the back with a playful smile. I sit beside him and open my art book.
“Hey, Noya. It’s your first time being late.”
“I had to go to the bathroom,” I reply. “How was ‘the talk’?”
“As expected,” Conner says with a shrug. “He told me he kissed you, and you didn’t tell him to stop or push him away.”
My hand tightens on my pencil, and I glare at the drawing of Conner. His hand moves over mine, and he takes the pencil from my grasp and places it into my pencil case. “I know it hurts to hear, but know that I sorted it out. Andy won’t touch you again.”
“You didn’t…”
“No,” he says, his hand moving away from mine and resting on my thigh as he leans in. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
“Oi!” Mr Rogers snaps. “Dick in your pants, Conner.”
Conner sighs as he leans away. I bite my bottom lip and struggle to hold in the laugh that wants to escape.
We work in silence after that. I focus on the drawing and not his drawing of me. However, in the corner of my eye, he pays attention to my lips and around my eyes, and when I look back at mine, I notice it’s lacking in places, as I’m not used to realistically drawing people.
“Do you want me to help you?” Conner asks, which catches me by surprise.
I blink a few times, unsure of what he means.
“Look at me while you draw the features. It helps you get comfortable with realistic drawings until you’re confident in yourself.”
“Oh…”
“Also, this may sound weird, but imagine touching my face as if you’re examining every feature and measuring the length of my brows, jawline, lips, and around my eyes by touch.
The length of my nose and the width. Imagine you’re a doctor and need to touch every aspect of my face.
” He leans in with a smirk. “You’re good at imagining, my maladaptive daydreamer. ”
I turn to him with my hands raised and ask, “Can I?”
He faces me and closes his eyes.
I’m hesitant at first, unsure if this is appropriate or not. Mr Rogers doesn’t think so, as he watches us from the corner of his eye.
I touch Conner’s cheek first, cupping it as my thumb moves up and then drags across his eyebrow as I count the seconds for the length. Then, I return to my art book to do the same, only to realise his eyebrows are slightly longer. I mark it with a one, reminding myself to go back and fix the error.
Then, I move my thumb down Conner’s nose. He smiles when my fingers drag across his lips. They’re soft and—
I jerk my hand away when he opens his mouth and goes to bite down on my thumb.
“Conner,” I hiss. “You aren’t going to do that again, are you?”
He chuckles, but keeps his eyes closed. “Maybe.”
I smile at how indifferent and weird he’s being.
“Hey, Mr Rogers, look what I drew,” Mark announces.
I turn instinctively, my eyes suddenly widening at the drawing of my naked body. The lump in my throat grows, and as I rise, a wave of nausea sweeps over me. Conner is talking, but it sounds as if he is underwater.
My body convulses, and as I lean forward, vomit sprays all over Conner’s shirt, then everything goes black.