One Month

22. I get it

I get it

My consciousness surfaces, tangling between reality and a dream that ultimately leaves me with a very strange feeling. A red flag appears in the back of my head as soon as the sensation of a mattress different than my own comes into my attention. It only takes a few moments before I realise there's nothing on my body but the thin sheets and blanket that reach just above my belly. I crack my eyes open facing the white-painted ceiling in my mother's bedroom, her real one that is. I haven't woken up in it for so long I barely dug up the memory of it.

Refusing to let myself spiral into a trip down memory lane again for the second time in the past 24 hours, I push myself off my back slightly, basing my weight on my elbows and taking a slow look around as I begin to grow familiar with the situation I'm in.

Aaron is sleeping next to me laying on his face and breathing heavily enough to make his exposed back distend with his every inhale. It's safe to assume he's not wearing anything under that blanket either. Memories from last night are coming back to me, blurry and faded, but I know it happened. Even though it feels detached enough to be considered a real memory, it's not a dream. If I wasn't completely stoned last night I'd have crystal clear memories but now everything is messed up. I'm not sure if that works to my benefit or not. Panic takes over me finally as the event of last night really sinks in.

Fuck fuck fuck.

What the fuck was I thinking? In what world was this a good idea? Even if I cross out the fact that he is, although temporarily, living in my house where there aren't many ways to stay away from him if things get awkward or hectic, he's Aaron fucking Campbell. The very same guy who's love life is no secret because the volume is insane. The same fucking guy who made my life difficult for years. There is no reason to believe he won't take advantage of this situation to mess with me, maybe spread some rumors, or at the very least hold it over my head for some dreadful time. But even if that weren't the case, having sex sure is one way to make things from complicated to impossible.

I slide out of bed and begin to pick up my clothes from wherever I had dumped them quickly. The sooner I get out of this room the better for me. With some good luck I won't have to deal with this just yet. I slide into my panties fast and pull my tshirt onto my torso sloppily, tearing its seams slightly in the process. I hear him shift under the blanket as I pull my shorts up my legs.

"What are you doing?" He says but I don't dare turn to look at him, I don't think I can yet. I'm not even sure how to handle this, I think I'm starting to break cold sweat just thinking about it.

He gets up and circles the bed quickly to reach me and blocks me from leaving the room as I tried to.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks benting his head to have a better visual of my facial expressions that I try to avoid by turning my head to the side awkwardly.

"I'm fine." I say and cross my arms over my chest defensively. I can take advantage of his semi-sleepy state and dodge his questions without much conflict.

"Right." He sneers at me seeing right through my bullshit while briefly rubbing his eyes with his fingers to clear his vision. I don't reply to his comment, I don't know how to. I just keep looking away from him hoping he'll take the hint. "Do you remember-"

"I remember." I retort glancing at him momentarily and walk around him eager to escape this conversation. I have already started to develop a headache that's most likely a result of the way I treated my body yesterday and the pressure I feel. At this point he's in a much better state than I am mentally, there's no way for me to manipulate the conversation to my advantage as I wished. My only option is to bolt.

"Where are you going?" He asks with his eyes pinned at me but I keep silent and push the common bathroom's door open as I make my way to my room.

When the door is closed behind me I am free to run my hand over my forehead frustrated as my mind races with all the possible outcomes my bad decision can cause. I pick up my phone from my bed where I'd left it the night before and check the time. It's midday already, I overslept a lot. The bathroom door squeaks open followed by Aaron letting himself in. Before I can tell him to leave me on my own he speaks.

"Why are you freaking out?" He asks me with a mildly irritated tone and a small frown on his face.

"I'm not fr-"

"Don't lie." He cuts me off which makes me scoff. I'm getting mad but I understand where his tone is coming from. If I'm acting half as weird as I feel it's only fair to be met with a ton of questions and if I could get my head going properly I'd be okay with it.

"Can we talk about this some other time?" I ask sincerely this time with much less hostility than I did before as it didn't seem to work on him.

"Now is as good as any." He says pushing me into a state of utter frustration that makes me roll my head slightly.

"Now isn't working for me." Is all I end up saying looking away from his dark eyes that still pierce through me.

I am met with an unexpected silence instead of the pushback I expected. It makes me confident enough to stop looking away from him curiously. He has a blank look on his face, or at the very least he doesn't seem irritated anymore.

"Right, I get it." He finally says and leaves the room immediately, leaving me finally alone. I sigh deeply, relieved and troubled at the same time.

I still don't know what the fuck is going on and it's driving me crazy. This is a different person than the one that used to torment me or the one that acted like a friend to me for the past two weeks. This inconsistency makes me twice as uncertain for what he might do or say and I'm starting to feel paranoid.

I may not remember much about yesterday but I remember sleeping with him and crying afterwards like a fucking high mess. As if he didn't have enough reasons to call me a junkie before.