The Best is Yet to Come

Seven: Noah

Emma pushes past me in anger, storming out of the building. I rush after her, running out the door and onto the sidewalk.

"Emma!" I call after her but she ignores me, strutting down the street, her back straight in defiance.

"Wait!" I yell and jog to catch up before falling into step beside her. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd find it funny," I apologize. She doesn't look at me, just keeps her eyes straight ahead.

Shit, she's mad.

"Let me make it up to you." I suggest, fear settling over my confidence, suffocating it.

"No, thanks." Her voice is curt and I rack my brain for something else to say but all that comes up is desperation. So, since that's all I had to offer, I jog ahead to stand in front of her. Emma stops in her tracks, her hard blue eyes slicing through mine.

God. Even angry, she took my breath away.

"Please." I practically beg and her features soften just slightly, enough for me to grasp onto with hope. "Let me take you out tonight to make it up to you."

This was the wrong move. She looks at the pavement, her face pained.

"Goodbye, Noah." She whispers sadly and walks off. Her tone is defeated and final and I'm left standing on the sidewalk, looking longingly after her.

*****************

"I need a beer!" I announce as I walk through the entryway and slam the door behind me. I rip off my shirt, grab a beer from the fridge and head to the bathroom for a cold shower.

So this is where I've ended up, huh? Sulking over a girl and drinking beer in the shower. I'm disgusted with myself. I have half a mind to be examined by a damn doctor. I rush through my shower, eager for another beer; anything to help blunt the pain.

Of course she would say no. In hindsight, I'm relieved that she did. At least it confirmed she had a good head on her shoulders. She knew well enough to say no to the creep that stares her down at work and follows her around town.

But you didn't follow her to the park, I remind myself, not that she'd believe that. In fact, she was the last person I expected to see sitting on that bench. I almost ran right past her.

I don't understand what went wrong. In my experience, women enjoyed being teased and chased. Emma just looked disappointed. I suppose I did ruin her first writing assignment for the workshop. My heart sinks with guilt and I lean my head against the cool shower wall. Stupid.

I haven't been rejected by a girl in a very long time and it hurts more than I remember. I whip the shower curtain open and grab the nearest towel. After scrubbing myself dry, I wipe the condensation off the bathroom mirror and stare at my own pathetic face. The face that always received praise. The face that most girls seemed to love.

My pride swells but it leaves a bitter taste. I know I'm well-versed in the art of seduction and as if to prove something to myself, I reach for my phone, looking for my preferred dating app.

Within four swipes, I've found a match. Wanda, 23 years old. Blonde hair and a kind smile. Perfect. I quickly craft a message:

Hey! You look so gorgeous in your profile pictures and I was wondering... Wanda go out?

I chuckle at myself. Cheesy? Yes. But it was sure to grab her attention.

Sure enough, after a fresh set of clothes and swiping some gel through my hair, I feel the familiar buzz coming from my pocket, alerting me of her response.

Ok. So, I've still got it. Then what the fuck is going on? I have now blown two opportunities to win Emma over and I've fucked myself both times. Worse, I'm afraid I'll never see her again.

And just like that, I'm crestfallen. A broken heart over a girl I never had. How's that for a love story, kids?

**********

I'm almost ashamed to admit I dreamed of Emma that night.

In my dream we were huddled together by a campfire. Sparks were dancing around the burning logs; the vast stretches of trees causing the crackles to echo in the air. Emma was standing in front of me on her tiptoes; her arms knotted around my neck. She was squeezing me tightly, like she feared I might float away if she let go.

I pulled away from her, desperate to see her face and I was horrified to see that her eyelids were red and puffy, her cheeks soaked. She choked back a sob and I cradled her face in my hands, urgently asking her what was the matter. I couldn't stand to see her so upset and even in the dream I could feel a sharp pain in my chest at the sight of her tear-stained face.

"Don't let me go." She begged, releasing her arms around my neck to grab my hands instead. "Please. Don't give up on me" She squeezes my hands tighter and I winced from the pain. It felt like she was going to break my fingers. "Please, Noah. I need you." She pleads.

I look down at our hands, trying to pull my hands from her grasp, but she just squeezes her fingers tighter around mine. I could feel my bones snapping against the force of her grip and I cried out in agony. I looked down at her face to beg her to let go but scream instead in horror when her face twists up in front of me, unrecognizable in the dark. Her features continue to tangle and stretch until I see a familiar brown-eyed man standing in front of me. Dad? I whispered.

"Follow your heart, son." He said, his voice just as warm as I remember. He pats my shoulder and I feel tears starting to pool at the corners of my eyes. "Your destiny is calling, but you need to listen."

I need your help. I said, truthfully. I'm so lost. What destiny was he talking about? Emma or his legacy? What do I do? I asked him.

Mute, my dad gives me a sad smile and turns, walking away from me and into the trees. I called him but he didn't stop. I tried to run after him but my legs were glued to the ground. I'm forced to watch until my father strolls out of sight, lost in the endless expanse of forest.

When I wake up, I'm breathless and I immediately start analyzing the dream. Jesus, that was ridiculous.

I swallow the disappointed lump in my throat. Something about that dream felt too real. I can't get the image of my father out of my mind. I wanted to talk to him so badly. But more than that, Emma's haunted face keeps swirling in my vision every time I shut my eyes, preventing me from going back to sleep. I wanted to shake it off, get her voice out of my head. And especially after today, I really wanted to forget that she even existed but I knew that would be impossible.

Never once have I dreamed about a girl, never once have I lost my control around one, and never once did I think I would intentionally plan to embarrass myself a third time, just from the sheer fear of never being able to see her again.