Burned

Chapitre 5

Daylight peeks through the small gap between the curtains in my bedroom. That's enough to wake me up.

I keep my eyes closed because the pulsations drumming in my skull have only increased since I regained consciousness. I hold my head in my hands and moan, a failed attempt to stop the pain.

My mouth is as dry as a river in a heat wave. I stretch to reach for the glass of water that I usually pour before bed. However, I notice that there is nothing on the nightstand.

"Shit."

I rolled onto the other side and buried my face in the pillow to dim the brightness in front of my eyes. I groaned, but was immediately caught off guard by the smell coming from my pillow.

I open my eyes wide to make sure that there is no stranger in my bed. I'm relieved that there is no one next to me. However, the scent on my pillow is indeed his.

My memory may not have retained much from my evening yesterday, but that smell is etched into my brain forever.

I can see clearly from the folds in my sheets and the blankets on the floor that there was someone with me last night. I turn onto my back and try to remember what happened the day before.

I have flashbacks of certain moments, but I can't remember how my evening ended. I searched the room for more evidence and found my laundry and shoes from yesterday strewn across the floor.

I get up and trudge to the bathroom. I'm sore, and some parts of my anatomy that I had forgotten about hurt. If I wanted proof that someone was with me yesterday, here it is: on the floor is a used condom that didn't make it to the trash.

"At least I protected myself," I thought as I picked it up.

I wash my hands, then my face, and drink a few sips of water directly from the tap. I open the bathroom and take two migraine tablets. I go back to my room, put on my bathrobe, and walk towards the kitchen like a zombie.

I find Em sitting on the living room couch, finishing her salad and listening to the midday news.

"Hello, sunshine!" she taunts me when she sees me grabbing a cup of coffee with half-closed eyes because of my headache.

"Day," I articulated in a raspy and slurred voice.

I grab my cup and take a few sips while waiting for my brain to wake up from its torpor.

"Looks like a big night to me." My friend smiled and said, "I haven't seen you in such bad shape since we were teenagers."

She turns off the TV and finds me in the kitchen. She watches me make a cream cheese bagel at the lunch counter. I'm always hungry after a binge.

"Mmm... Yes, since I have trouble remembering everything," I said, covering my eyes with my hands and feeling a bit embarrassed.

I admitted to her that I overindulged in my favourite poison last night: whisky shots. I think that by the smell I give off, she could have figured it out on her own. I smell of alcohol, sweat and sex...

"Another proof," I thought.

"I wouldn't have guessed," she teases, holding her nose.

"Are you going to tell me I shouldn't have? 'I asked her, taking a bite of my bagel.

She nods to me, then adds:

"No, on the contrary," she shrugs.

"I think that's what you needed." With everything that's happening to you right now, I think it must have helped you to let go a little.

'Yeah, I think... I'm still not sure about it. I'll let you know when my hangover is gone.

I'm interrupted by noises coming from above us.
"Ahhhh! What is this commotion again?"

We hear footsteps and furniture being moved. I raise my index finger to the ceiling with questions in my eyes. Emilie notices this.

"Oh yes! A new neighbour has moved into the building. I ran into him this morning on my way to the grocery store," she told me suddenly excited.

It was her turn to go grocery shopping. We alternate this chore and split the food budget in half. Therefore, we avoid fast food restaurants and cook more. I love cooking, and I've improved a lot over the years. I always find a good recipe to try online.

"I didn't know there was a place to stay," I told her, shrugging my shoulders and finishing my bagel.

Right now, all I want is for the noises to stop as quickly as possible so that my headache goes away.

"You don't understand Nova. You must see him" she shouted, jumping up and down on her stool.

"He's actually really hot. I almost had an orgasm just by looking at him," she adds, fanning herself.

When I hear the word "orgasm", an image of Mr. sexy comes to mind. I blush when my memory recalls the audacity I showed yesterday in approaching him.

At the bar, he was very receptive to my advances. He smiled at me, leaned towards me and even touched the small of my back. I can say that I was enterprising in return by grinding against him on the dance floor.

My brain begins to recall certain scenes that shock me. In general, I'm not very bold with strangers. With Mr. Sexy, I completely let myself go. There's something about him that attracts me, and I feel a certain sexual tension with him.

In love, I'm a tactile person who likes to give everything. Ben never complains about my adventurous side in bed. I love the way my body reacts when someone touches me or caresses me.

Ben was a good lover, but I have no other point of comparison. He was my first. We met at university at a party and our relationship continued for four years.

Watching Emilie fan herself with her hand, I throw a bomb at her.

"Speaking of hot guys, I think I hooked up with one last night," I told her, blushing.

"WHAT! You're kidding... No...well, I don't believe it," she shouts, and I cover my ears to protect my head from her reaction.

"On the other hand, I don't remember anything, but the evidence doesn't lie," I told her, pointing to a painful region of my anatomy.

"Wait! You had sex yesterday and you don't even remember it. That's really sad."

She makes a face at me, and I think it's truly tragic.

"Was he with you last night? "

She also looks around for evidence.

"As I said, my brain refuses to give me all the details. However, I think..."

I cover my face with my hands to hide the blush on my cheeks.

"Oh my god, Nova, spill it."

Em takes me to the living room for an interview.

"What does he look like? "

"Does he have big hands? "

"Does he have tattoos?"

This is what the rest of the day comes down to.