I Need To Find My Way Back To The Start

I laid upon that couch for what seemed like seconds to me, but were really minutes and minutes. John had already left, going on about how he should run back to the venue so that no one would be suspicious. I recalled him spouting off some excuse he was going to give the others for when they noticed my absence, but frankly, I wasn’t quite listening. My eyes were too busy staring at that large lump of familiar clothing on the ground, and my mind was a little too preoccupied, wondering what the hell exactly happened within the last forty-five minutes. I still couldn’t come up with a straight, clear answer, because truthfully, nothing after being placed on the couch up until now was lucid. The only thing I did know, was that it shouldn’t have happened.

So I sat there on the familiar, soft couch that I’ve known for years now, with my cheek slightly wetter than the other from the goodbye kiss from John. In a daze, I finally stood up. Instantly, a sort of pain that I’ve never felt before in my life hit two places—private areas of mine and what I thought was my heart. Around my eyes felt a little heavier, as I felt like I could cry soon. Not now though. Definitely not now. I was too numb and dumbfounded. And I remained in that state as I managed to get over to the laundry room. My walk was different. For each step landed with the right leg, a pain shot through me, and for every step taken by the other, it throbbed twice as hard. As for my chest, well, that pain didn’t seize to end or even dull by even the slightest.

My fingers grabbed the first thing they could find, which happened to be an oversized shirt made of cotton that belonged to my mom for sleeping, and then I easily found a pair of underwear that belonged to me. The material was getting old, the washer and dryer showing its beating on the pair of underwear as the fabric had slight frays and tears here and there. But I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to be naked anymore. Ever. If I looked down at myself at that moment, taking in the sight of my bare, pale flesh… I would’ve collapsed right there on the ground and cried, with no plans of getting up soon.

Slowly, I pulled the pale, sea-green shirt over my head. Then, using the nearby wall to steady myself for fear of toppling over on my weak knees, I slipped each wobbling foot into the two holes provided in the underwear. My back stayed hunched over and I slowly pulled them up my disgusting body. The task seemed so hard and my muscles ached with every pull. By the time I was done dressing, my chest rose and fell in deep breaths. I just couldn’t feel them properly.

Again, slowly, I walked back to the living room. I lightly held the bottom of my shirt loosely as it fell to the middle of my thighs. I plopped softly down back on that couch, the one that I’ll never look at the same way. Realizing this, I couldn’t help but sink dramatically down to the floor, where the sting shot through my whole body nearly four times as hard. I winced and let out a high sound through my tightly closed mouth. I sat there for minutes and minutes before the door blasted open.

“Cara, baby, I’m home!” My heavy eyes shifted towards the loud, excited voice lazily. “Cara?”

“Hush, Camille,” Ali scolded. I heard the two take a couple more steps into the room. “John said she wasn’t feeling so hot, so keep it down!”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Camille replied softly. Trying to maintain that tone, she called out, “Cara?”

I sluggishly lifted my arm into the air, hoping that they would see it. “I’m here,” my dry throat called back.

“Hey, what are you doing on the floor?” Ali led the way towards my spot on the floor with Camille following close behind. “Are you that sick?” She lightly placed herself on the coffee table directly in front of me as Camille sloppily flopped down on the floor next to me.

“Aw! John did say that you threw up,” Camille pointed out as she ran a hand through my hair, pulling it out of my face. I couldn’t help but lean into her a little more. “Do you want anything? Can you manage to keep it down?”

“I’m fine,” I croaked.

“Well I’m gonna get a glass of water anyway,” she stated, getting up from her spot to go into the kitchen.

I silently sat there, staring intently at one of the coffee table’s legs. Then, already feeling her eyes on me, I looked up at Ali. She was closely studying me, and she didn’t do much to hide the fact that she was doing so. “What?” I whispered.

She bit her deep pink lip before saying, “You don’t really… look too sick, Cara.” Then she blinked and looked me up and down. “But there’s something wrong, that’s for sure.”

“Back.” Camille sat back down near me on the carpet. She shoved the glass of cool water in my hands. I have to say, just holding something that’s temperature drastically varied from yours was very comforting, since that was one of the first things I could feel best without that numb feeling in the way.

I took a tiny sip of the cold water as Ali asked, “So did you find your phone?”

I looked back up at her and nodded. “Mhm.”

“Without any… problems?” The way her left eyebrow twitched up in the slightest arch gave me chills. Camille held me a bit more.

I swallowed. “Um…” I sighed and scratched an invisible, nonexistent itch.

“Cara,” she whispered, her tone more urgent and serious. “What the hell happened?” She knew I wasn’t sick.

In the corner of my eye, I could see Camille looking from me to Ali, the perplexity plainly obvious upon her smooth face. My eyes didn’t move from Ali’s for a long moment. I tried to find words to utter out to her, but nothing came to mind.

I finally tore my eyes away from her soft face and looked up at Camille. She glanced down at me with her brown eyes and then looked at the spot on the floor that I’ve been trying to avoid—the pile of clothes. I peaked up at Ali beneath my heavy lashes. Her eyes were also on the clothes, but her eyes weren’t taking the sight in as if it were the first time she took a look at them. Her eyes were just simply rested on the view.

The weighty, unbearable silence ended when Camille started to ask a question. And even though she didn’t finish it, I knew that it didn’t really need an answer. “Cara… Did you…”

Ali cut her off short anyway. Her voice was strong and left no room for bullshit, but it wasn’t loud. I still flinched a little though when she stated, “You had sex.” She nodded her head for every word as she said it slower than when she normally talks.

I blinked a few times and tore my eyes away from the clump of fabrics that I wore earlier. I took a heavy breath as I felt the coolness of wet contrast with my warmer skin. I was crying, but I managed to nod.

“Oh, God, Cara,” Camille whispered, sympathy in her voice. She embraced me tighter and stroked my messy hair with her loving fingers. Gently touching me, she attempted to rock my body back and forth a little hastily. “Cara,” she mumbled into my hair. She pulled back and asked, “Why?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t even realize what it was leading to until it was too late and I was naked underneath him.” I curled my head into my lap and set the glass of water aside safely. “It was horrible. So horrible…”

“What was so bad?”

“Besides the fact that you, by definition, have officially cheated on Pat,” Ali added bluntly from in front of us. The sharpness of her statement pierced me so hard that I started to sob into myself.

“He didn’t even ask me if I wanted to do it,” I mumbled to them.

“Oh, jeez,” Camille replied, still trying to play the caring one.

Ali, not so caring about the situation, accused, “Well then you let him do it.” I looked up at her a little. “That is, unless he raped you. Did John rape you, Cara?” She didn’t ask me concerned or worried, because she knew what the answer was.

“No,” I whispered back.

She raised her eyebrows a little and tilted her head a little, as if saying ’Exactly’ and she pursed her lips a little like she was about to say, ’I told you something like this could happen.’

And even though she didn’t physically say either one of those things, I admitted in a cry, “You’re right!” I tilted my head down. “You were so right…”

“You knew this was going to happen?” Camille asked urgently to Ali.

Ali sighed, but didn’t let her guard down. “Of course I didn’t exactly predict that she was going to come home tonight with John and sleep with him.” She licked her lips a little. “But it’s obvious that something like this could’ve happened at any given time.”

“What are we going to do?” Camille asked the room.

Ali stood up at that note. “Well, I’m going to go home and get a shower and go to bed. Maybe I’ll eat something, too.” She leaned down a little and rested a stiff hand on my shoulder. “As for you, Cara, well, I suggest getting some rest.” Her words were as stiff as her hand on my slumped shoulder. “Talk to you all later.” And then she walked out the front door.

Camille and I sat in silence for the next, roughly, five minutes. Then she asked, “What’s going to happen now?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Camille. But whatever does happen… It probably won’t be good.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well…” I sighed and closed my eyes shut, leaning my tired, spinning head against the disgusting couch. “As much as I hate to do it, I need to think about all the possibilities that could happen after this night.”

“Tell me,” she urged.

And even though I knew that explaining all this to Camille would be nearly useless, I did it anyway. I said that one thing that could happen, would be that Pat somehow finds out. Camille wanted to know what I thought would happen if he figured it out. I cried a little more for an answer. When the tears slowed up, I suggested the idea of John never bringing it up again and just… leaving me alone. For the most part, never touching me in any intimate way ever again.

“What, you mean like just… hooking up with you and then… nothing?” She asked, confused with my meaning.

I shook my head, which was a bad decision. My brain rattled around and I groaned a little. Then I answered, “Yeah.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best thing…”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she started, “John never talking to you again… Wouldn’t you think that that’d make you feel a little… empty inside? Like this didn’t end right?”

I was taken aback by Camille’s hidden insightfulness. “You have a point there, but… I think I’d be able to overcome it one day. Just… Yeah. That hole would patch itself up. And I’d be able to live on. Hopefully.”

“And what if John doesn’t just blow this off as a one night stand?”

“And keeps on wanting to be with me and all?” She nodded in reply. “Well… I don’t know. I think I’m going to have to cross that bridge when I get to it.”