Chapter forty-five
Fuck. What is that damn buzzing noise? It won't fucking stop. I slowly open my swollen eyes, which was painful, considering I've cried more tonight than I have in my whole life. Hahaha.
I grab onto the edge of the nightstand and hoist myself up off of the floor where I'd fallen asleep. My phone ringing along with my ears ringing, the ringing just won't stop. I pick up the phone and answer without looking at the caller id.
"Hello?" I groan. I clear my throat which is sore.
"Novah." I hear a breathy voice say. There's a whole bunch of noise in the background.
"Is this.....who is this?" I ask.
"I'm sorry."
"Matt, where are you? Are you okay?" I slip my shoes on and get my keys.
"How will you ever be able to forgive me?" he says into the phone, voice shaky.
"Matt, where are you?" he sounds weird. Unstable.
"I'm away from you. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Matt, stay where you are. I'm coming."
"I'm not suicidal, Novah. You can stay your pretty ass away from me." he slurs. I press the phone against my ear and walk out into the hall.
"Hello?" I say. Nothing. I look down at the phone screen. Shit. He hung up. I run down the hall and make it to the stairs case. I race down the stairs and out into the lobby. I run out into the parking lot and I get into my car. I put my phone in the seat next to me and start the car, backing out of the parking lot and out onto the street.
I speed down the road, anxious and worried. Last time I came to the frat house I was anxious and worried and here I am. Again.
He sounded....weird. I don't know how else to explain it. Something different in his voice. Maybe, he was drunk. I don't know. He sounded unstable and I can't have anything happening to him. I know I'm responsible for whatever he's feeling right now, as is he responsible for everything I am feeling.
I'm furious at him for what he did earlier but my weakness for him rescinds the anger.
I park across from the frat house, as there is no space in front of it. The noise and bright lights have not since ceased. The party is crazy if not crazier than when I was last here. I look both ways before running across the street in my magnificent outfit of a dark blue dress and black sneakers. The lawn is packed with people smoking, laughing, joking, red cups littering the floor. Guys, girls, everyone in a drunken stupor. I squeeze into the entrance of the house bumping into quite a few people. God, It's so hot in here. I walk up the crowded stairs. I walk down the hall and up to Matt's door. I take a deep breath and turn the knob. To my surprise, the door was unlocked. I walk in and take in my surroundings. Matt is sitting on his bed with a bottle of Vodka in his hand. His eyes are red and he looks distant. There are rose petals and broken glass all across the floor.
"Matt," I whisper. I walk towards him and he looks up at me.
"Why are you here?" he asks. He takes a chug of the vodka.
"Don't do that," I say meekly. He chuckles unsettlingly.
"Fuck off," he says and takes another swig. What the fuck is wrong with him?
"First of all, don't talk to me like that. I'm trying to be there for you like you weren't there for me today." he stares at me, blankly.
"Why are you here, Novah?" he pulls me closer by the waist and tucks my hair behind my ear. He moves closer. "I know you don't want to be with a shitbag like me, so why are you here?" he whispers in my ear, breath laced with vodka.
"Because you need me," I reply, ignoring the sensations he's evoking from being so close to me. He chuckles and takes another swig of vodka.
"When did I say that?" he mutters sarcastically. I huff.
"Why are you so insulting?"
"You....you are weakening." he slurs. He moves his hand to pick up the bottle of vodka but I snatch it from him.
"No! Stop! You're more focused on alcohol....underage drinking at that, then being a nicer person." he smiles.
"Baby, I've been drinking for a while now. Nothing you can do about it now. And, just so you know, I don't give two shits about the law. I've broken it before." God, I want to punch him and hug him all at the same time. I want to comfort him but he's making it so hard. Being insensitive and laughing everything off.
"Shut the fuck up for two seconds," I say and his eyebrows rise in humor and surprise.
"And what if I don't, Novah?" he says mockingly. He snatches the bottle out of my hand and takes a swig quickly before I have the chance to snatch it back.
"Matt, I swear to god I will break this shit across your head if you don't stop. You deserve it after what you did today." I say angrily. His eyebrows knit together and the humor on his face dissipates.
"Did you come here to scold me?" he asks dryly.
"I came here cause you sounded stressed over the phone."
He spreads his arms and laughs.
"I'm over here chugging vodka. The fuck do you expect? Do you know what sounds weird to me? The fact that you're here and I didn't ask you to be." he says impassively. I take a step back. Ouch. That hurt. My eyes start to water and I quickly turn around to prevent him from seeing me cry yet again. I wipe my tears away.
"Okay." I squeak. I look around for my keys, avoiding looking in his direction. A tear falls from my eye defiantly. I clear my throat and wipe my eyes.
"Did you see where I put my keys?" I look away as I'm speaking to him.
"Why....why are you crying?' I avoid his penetrating gaze. He's reading me like a book right now. He probably knows my exact thoughts.
"I'm not Matt. Where are my keys?" I fidget with my fingers.
"Come here," he says softly. I can't resist his tempting, soothing voice. No, I tell myself. He keeps hurting you. "Please. Please come here." I look up at his face. His forehead is creased, his eyes pleading. I can't resist those eyes. They're luring me towards him. I walk towards him. I stand between his legs, still not making eye contact. He stands up and lifts me up onto his body. He sits back down with me straddling his body. I look down at his lap.
"Look at me, Novah," he demands. I look up at him. Into his eyes.
"There's so much I want to say to you but I can't. I don't know how to say it. Stop crying."
"You make me..."
"Don't say it." he interrupts. "I don't want to hear how I make you miserable. You know...I want to make you happy. Fuck. It's so frustrating. I'm complicated. My feelings are complicated. I can't put it into words. Look at me." my gaze has drifted to the wall. It's hard for me to keep constant eye contact. I look into his eyes again.
"Don't ever look away from me. I want you. I know I may not....act like it sometimes but I fucking want you. I want you to be mine." he says putting extra emphasis on 'mine'. "I want you to want me." I look away from him unintentionally.
"Novah," he says. "Did I really....did you cry a lot after you left?" he asks in a hushed tone.
"Why does it matter? You...you were with someone else. Why do you care?" I fire back. I switch from wanting him to resenting him.
"I wasn't with someone else. When you're 'with' someone you give a shit about them. You choose to be with them. I don't give a shit or want to be with Denise." he says matter-of-factly.
"Denise? So that's the bitches name?"
"I don't want her, need her, care about her, nor am I attracted to her. Do you understand?"
"You've fucked her, haven't you?" he pauses, looks down and sighs. He looks back up at me.
"I have had sex with a lot of women. I'm sorry. That's just how I used to be."
"Used to?"
"Well now, I don't want to fuck anyone but you." I get an ache in the pit of my stomach. That delicious ache I get when he uses vulgar, dirty words.
"Why?" I ask meekly.
"Because..."
"If we're just friends...." I say. He looks down.
"We're not just friends," he says quietly.
"How would you have reacted if I'd been with another guy while I was supposed to be with you?"
"I would've lost my shit."
"So how do you expect me to be 'more than friends' with you if you can't even show up at a goddamned restaurant?"
"I told you...I'm fucked up."
"We're all fucked up, Matt! But Its how we choose to deal with it. I felt dumb and worthless today. I felt ugly. I felt...fucked-up." He lifts me off of his lap and grabs the vodka.
"Matt, no." I try to grab the bottle from his hand but he holds it where I can't reach. "Stop drinking."
"You can't stop me. If you came here to scold me about all my fucked-up decisions then you can leave. I didn't fucking ask you to come here."
"Okay, I have had enough of you speaking to me like that. You have no respect for me. Either you get your shit together or I will walk out that door. Forever." Did I really mean what I just said or am I saying it out of anger?
"You wouldn't. You'll come running back to me. Like always." He says conceitedly.
"You really think so? Watch me." I walk around the room, searching for my keys. Fuck. It's like they fucking disappeared. I get on the floor and look for my keys. I reach under the bed and feel around for my keys. My hand grazes over a chunk of glass.
"Owww," I whine. Matt crouches next to me.
"What happened?"
"Get the fuck away from me," I say angrily. I walk over to his bathroom and grab a handful of tissue, pressing it on the cut. He follows me, standing in the doorway.
"Tell me right now that you want nothing to do with me. If you can tell me that you never want to see me again, I'll leave you alone. I promise not to even glance in your direction." he tells me in a low, thick voice.
"What?"
"You heard me. Say it." I continue pressing the tissue against my cut. I should tell him. I should tell him that he's toxic, disrespectful, and a liar. That I want nothing to do with him. I know I should if I have any dignity. But I find myself struggling to utter those words.
"I....I....." I stutter. Shit. Why can't I do it? I can't just dismiss him just like that. I already have feelings for him. "I can't just say that, Matt."
"Well, why not? You're always talking about how you want nothing to do with me and all that shit." I try to push past him but he's standing firmly in the doorframe and won't move.
"Matt, just move. I don't want to be here."
"Well, then say it."
"Leave me the fuck alone!" I yell. His face doesn't change. He digs around in his pocket and holds out my keys and my phone. I take them from him. He stares at me for while longer, his gaze penetrating. We both stay silent. After a few more beats he moves out of the doorway. I walk past him and to over to his room door. I grasp the handle.
"You walk out the door and that's it," he warns. I turn around and open my mouth to tell him I want to make this work. That I have feelings for him and I want to be with him. That I'll give it my all if he does too. That I want to go on an actual date with him. I close my mouth and turn back around. I turn the door handle and walk out the door, closing it behind me, and not taking a second glance.
How many times has he turned his back on me in my most vulnerable moments? A lot.
He deserves this.
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