bare | 18+

4. Retrograde

My phone buzzes.

amore mio: Could I see you tonight? Or during your lunch hour?

Again.

amore mio: I don't want us to end things like this.

And again.

amore mio: Whatever I did, just know that I'm sorry. You know I'll never intentionally hurt you, Nova.

A few seconds go by, and the vibrating underneath my arm stops. Not only is the class silent enough to hear a pin drop, but the teacher is walking around the room as people work. She's also the type of teacher to humiliate you when she takes your phone, so I settled for hiding mine under my arm to suppress the noise.

"Everything alright, Nova?" she asks.

I probably look like I'm stressed with my pencil down and my hand covering the side of my face.

"Yes...just re-reading," I answer quietly. She nods, looks over at the student beside me, and moves up the row.

By word of mouth, Ciara had figured out his name. Roman. I keep it in the back of my mind and pretend I don't know his name because it'd be quite embarrassing if Roman was not his name. If it is, it's somewhat very fitting.

Now that her back is to me, I move my arm and check my messages. I know who is blowing up my phone, and as much as I'd like to ignore him, I can't bring myself to restrain myself. I'm not going to marry the man, but it would be nice if I just kept him around. I like how I can always count on him. I like feeling his skin on mine as he holds me in his arms. Sometimes, he'd slip his fingers through my curls and massage my scalp. I like the sense of security he gives me—he makes me feel cared for and comforted even when I don't need it. He's nothing but kind to me, treating me as if I'm the most precious thing in the world.

Attempting to find someone like him would take a decade off my lifespan. Or am I being overly dramatic? He's not the only man in the world. There's someone like him somewhere out there and someday I can have the same thing—just legal and acceptable in the eyes of society.

Unfortunately, I'm an impatient person.

Me: Is 6 alright with you?

My screen dims, and I tap it when I see him typing.

amore mio: Can I pick you up at 7 instead?

Me: Are we going somewhere?

amore mio: Yes, and wear something nice.

After I flip my phone over, it buzzes again, and I check to see if it's him. I know it's him.

amore mio: I'm sorry for bothering you while you're in class, but you need to put your phone away too.

Me: I only took it out because you texted.

amore mio: Did you now?

Me: OK, I need to focus! I'll see you tonight.

amore mio: I'll see you then, dolcezza.

A small smile forms on my lips at the text, but I instantly straighten my face afterward and slip my phone into my bag.

"I know we don't have enough time left, so please finish this for next class."

* * *

While I masquerade myself as a woman in her early twenties, it slowly registers how indecisive I am. I keep pushing the thought back, but it keeps returning. How can I not think of my date tonight as I get ready? How can I not remember that this is another result of my indecisiveness? I have no idea what I want. I want it all, but things don't work that way. I can't say I don't want Damien, yet still think about him—there isn't a between.