Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 17

Ari's POV

I had never understood Kay's exhilaration at the prospect of being home alone. Where she had described euphoria, I could feel my pulse quickening, anxiety building towards a crescendo at the thought of spending hours with only my own thoughts for company.

Yet today, I welcomed the smell of stale air and Hanna's exhilarated yapping as I opened the door to my otherwise still apartment, relishing in the lack of questioning I wouldn't have had the power to eloquently answer, if only for the time being. I had never been gladder for my parents' insatiable need for weekly amicable visits to various friends over the weekends.

Taking my converse off and stepping into the kitchen, I grabbed an apple off the dining table, munching on in speedily on my way to the window, hastily opening it before briskly walking towards my room. Although I had skilfully managed to avoid any clock on my way, I subconsciously knew I would most certainly be late and had the urge to slap myself for wasting so much time aimlessly talking with Nate about anything and nothing substantial at the same time.

Realising I was pacing, I forced myself down onto my bed, fresh red sheets crinkling, startling Hanna with the forceful act, who now cocked her head to the side as if to ask What's the matter?. She had followed me throughout, closer than a shadow, tail wagging animatedly. Well, at least someone's excited about something.

I supressed a sigh as I picked up my foundation and pocket mirror, proceeding to cover up my face and neck, gently patting it in onto the tender skin, then downright rubbing it onto my neck, watching my bruises turn from the deep mottled purple to dark shadows. If I were meeting anyone else, I would've been satisfied with that result. Yet I wasn't certain a single flimsy layer of foundation would hold under Kay's intense scrutiny, and the way I held my neck a bit too rigidly would undoubtedly tip her off faster than I could think up a credible lie, rising questions which would only aggravate the situation.

But why lie? It would be false to say my first thought was to tell her the truth, and the reason for which my mind had instinctively chosen to lie to her so easily had plagued me for the better part of the day. It wasn't fear of being judged, not really. I think I just might not be ready for what she would definitely propose. A restraining order, at the very least. I don't think I'm ready to accept how much I need one, and most importantly, sit back and consider how much I truly want one.

I only realised how aggressive my rubbing had become when I felt myself gag, coughing up bitter bile and the taste of unsweetened green tea which only served to make me nauseous. I took time I didn't currently have to steady my breathing, picking up the mirror discarded on the bed to examine the end result and was pleasantly surprised to see that they had vanished completely, invisible from any angle I could muster strength to turn my head in.

I raised a hand towards my neck, intending to touch it, but stopped myself midway, a grim smile spreading over my face as I thought better of it, picking up my mascara instead and snakingly applying it, before deeming my face lively enough for conducting some basic human interaction. I opted for an equality t-shirt to replace my tea stained one, featuring the pride flag, and dungarees, hoping that wearing an outfit she'd called "impossibly cute" on various occasions would ease the tension.

As I tossed by black jeans aside, I saw the piece of paper with Veronica's number scribbled on it flutter to the ground, almost blending in with the cream fluffy carpet. My first thought was to throw it away. I've never been the type of person to text someone who is next to a stranger (with some notable exceptions), although the said stranger might have just kept me from an untimely death.

However, I couldn't shake off her words as she placed the crumpled piece of paper into my palm, and the blatant offer in them. I've been in your shoes before. Although I wasn't sure I would ever be able to truly talk about everything that had gone down between Gage and me, I knew that even if I wanted to, no one but someone who had lived through something similar could be able to understand, and help me move on. So I shoved it into my phone cover before I could talk myself out of it, laying down the many reasons or which a complete stranger would have no desire to listen to me rant about my issues, no matter how good-natured or kind.