6
At first, I wonder if any of it was real, flushing with embarrassment as I replay the way I acted. The irrational, impulsive things I confessed.
But the clothes I’m squeezing to my chest are proof; my oversized shirt is stretched a size further.
Noah did wear this. I draw the shirt to my nose, struggling to slow my breath enough to inhale the fabric’s scent.
It smells like him. Sweet, but leafy from all that running we did through the forest.
Noah is real.
Which means everything I did was real.
Oh, God. I don’t understand how assertive I became, taking charge of my desires. Why I felt so strongly for a stranger. No, why I still feel strongly.
My gut churns as heat pulses in my groin - an ache for touch that hasn’t gone away since last night. It dawns on me that it wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment fling; I would’ve had sex with a stranger last night. I almost did.
That’s the most vulnerable I’ve been with my body since Steven hurt me.
But after how much I told Noah it would hurt me if he left after I opened up, he still left. He’s gone.
Sobs rip from my throat, startling me with their intensity. Anxiety and heartbreak burn throughout my limbs as I hunt around my parents’ living room for any other trace of him. Scrambling around the couch, I throw flowery couch cushions, chunky knitted blankets, and well-loved, sauce-stained pillows to the floor in search of something, anything. But Noah left no visible trace beyond the clothes he borrowed. Not even his number.
Does this mean he left, never expecting to come back?
I whimper through tight breaths, feeling ridiculous for everything I believed and did last night. I took a risk in accepting this love-at-first-sight thing, and one of my worst possible outcomes came from it. It fucking kills. I wobble, gripping my heart as it aches with every beat.
I’m so hot that the room spins, threatening to topple me over. It burns. Everything burns. I strip my clothes in a fit of discomfort, afraid I’ll pass out if I don’t lower my temperature fast. But as I stand shaking in my living room in my bra and panties, I only burn hotter, doubling over in pain as it wreaks havoc in my guts.
I feel sick enough to die. Am I losing it? It’s starting to feel dangerous to be alone. What if I pass out and hit my head?
I call Jenny without questioning it.
Until the dial tone rings. What the hell am I going to tell her? That I got lost, met a man I almost fucked in the leaves, and brought him home? That I thought the dream came true?
She answers on the second ring, and I bite my thumb, knowing I have no time left to think.
“Hello, my dear! How’s it going?”
“It’s– Well, it was going well–”
Jenny loses her singsong cheeriness. “Are you safe? You don’t sound okay at all.”
I struggle to breathe deep enough to speak. “I’m safe. I’m just feeling really sick, and I’m panicking.”
“Okay, let’s talk through this. Are you resting comfortably?”
“No...”
“Let’s start with that. Why don’t you grab some water and a blanket to help yourself relax.”
I grip Noah’s borrowed clothes on instinct, curling up with them on the couch. “Okay. I already have water.”
“Okay, great! So what are you thinking about that’s bringing up some panic?”
I take a deep, shuddering breath. Inadvertently, I inhale a wave of Noah’s scent, and that single whiff stops me from shaking.
He’s important; even my body knows it. If I’m honest about Noah, Jenny might never believe me. But I don’t want to lie to her either.
“I met a man last night,” I mutter. The silence on the other line sends my breath into a sprint. “I thought it was something real. Even deeper than my dream. But I woke up and he–” My tears choke me out. “H-he was gone.”
“Oh, honey... Did he hurt you or coerce you?” Jenny’s aching voice inspires fresh tears.
“No. I’m just hurt emotionally, now that he’s not here.”
“Is that why you’re feeling sick?”
“No, I– Well, it could be from stress, but I think I have a bad fever. It’s making me dizzy.”
I’m too embarrassed to tell her that I’m also horny as hell.
Which is really why this fever feels worse. Every time I think of Noah, another wave of heat hits my body. I’m so sexually frustrated that it hurts - my hips squirming on the couch with pounding pain deep enough to make me nauseous. But I feel way too sick to do anything about it. Even more ridiculous, my body screams to let Noah - only Noah - do something about it. But what if he’s gone, forever? I whimper, crying even harder.
“What about Amy?” Jenny asks. “Could she come check on you?”
“Yes, I could call her.”
“Great! Let’s have you do that, and then text me what happens.”
“Thank you, Jenny.”
“Keep me updated. Promise?”
“I promise.” Even though I have no way of explaining this to her.
Before I can land myself in ruminating hell, I call my best friend.
Amy’s familiar pep softens my breath. “Hey, girl! What’s up so early on a Saturday?! You’re usually dead asleep if I try to call!”
“Hi, Amy.”
“Whoa, are you okay?” Her voice darkens. “Do I need to come over there and kick someone’s ass?”
I smile through tears, inhaling a deep breath of Noah’s scent. “I’m sorry to ruin your anniversary weekend. I’m just not feeling well.”
“Oh no, like how?”
I need to tell someone about Noah, or I’m going to lose it. Thankfully, Amy has seen me lose it before.
“A., I met someone. Someone I thought was my soulmate.” My sobs hitch, warping into bawling. “But now all he left was the clothes he borrowed, and they smell so good, but...”
“Wait, hold up. You had sex with him?!”
“No! But I wanted to! Can you believe that, Amy?”
“I mean, no, to be honest.” Amy’s shock only makes me cry harder.
“And it’s super embarrassing, but I feel horrible now that we didn’t have sex. I’ve never felt like this.”
Amy falls silent. It’s so out of character that it heightens my nerves. Then I hear her clunky hiking boots dash across her wooden floor. “Horrible like how, babe? Sexually frustrated?”
“Yeah... But not in a normal way. It hurts so badly that I feel like I’ll die if he never comes back.” I slap my forehead with a groan. “Oh, God. That’s the most toxically attached thing I’ve ever said!”
Amy doesn’t respond for a good ten seconds. Did I just make a fool of myself?
Concern lowers Amy’s voice when she finally speaks. “Hun, do you happen to have a fever? Like the worst fever of your life?”
“I think so... Why?”
She pauses for a long time. I grip my phone hard enough to dent my fingers with its edge.
When Amy speaks again, her voice is gentle and even. “I might know what’s going on with you, but I have to come over and see it for myself. I’m leaving right now.”
“Really? God, thank you. I feel really sick and scared, Amy. I don’t know what I’ll do if he never comes back.”
“Don’t move. Kira and I will be there in a heartbeat, okay?”
I burst into another bout of sobbing as I hang up, guilt crushing my chest for putting my problems on someone else. I can’t believe I got myself into this mess. Why couldn’t I just have a simple crush? This whole “mate” thing sounds ridiculous.
But I believe it - he’s my mate. I can’t get myself to not believe it. It’s making me so sick.