Sinking Faster

I woke up to the slow, steady breathing that was currently wafting in my ear. I woke up to an arm around my waist. I was unaware of my surroundings; the pain gushing throughout my head was a complementary reminder of my injury.

That was all I remembered. The rest was a blur.

So, who exactly was this sleeping figure next to me? I didn’t want to turn my head for fear of waking him up. Slowly but surely, I looked to the far left.

And unbeknownst to me, it was Garrett Nickelsen.

Garret Nickelsen was sleeping next to me.

Anxious, I looked under the covers to make sure we were both clothed. Although I realized, naturally, he was without a shirt.

I didn’t really have any reason to feel nervous. Just a girl and a guy sleeping in a bed together. Except Garrett, as I was learning, wasn’t like any guy. He was different. Despite the remarks he’d said to me prior, he seemed like an okay guy. Sure, he listened to Ryan Adams way too much for my liking, and had enough zombie movies to fill my entire walk-in closet, but all in all, he wasn’t such a bad guy. His jokes were actually humorous from time to time, and his laugh was almost contagious.

And his eyes.

Well, his eyes were so luminous and so easy to get lost in, in the weirdest way, too. These emotions were foreign to me, the feeling of butterflies in my stomach was enough to make me want to sleep for days. Girls like me did not fall in like or love. Girls like me were meant to think cynically.

At any given moment, this “friendship”, or whatever relationship I had with Garrett at the moment could disappear. Vanish in thin air. He would, unsurprisingly, turn on me and belittle me once again. Now, I’m just waiting for the day when his words will start to hurt. Stick to my insides and make my heart sting. I might sound like I’m over exaggerating, but bear with me. I can honestly say that these feelings had never been felt before in my life.

I don’t even know why I had sex. Maybe it was because I wanted to feel wanted, or needed. Surely it was in the wrong way, but the physical contact was enough to fill the gap of emptiness that I’d been feeling. Maybe it was even lust, or the sheer angst that I’d been dealing with for so long.

I was beginning to fall for him. These feelings, I could not control; to the best of my ability, I tried.

Did love really work this way? Did it come sporadically? The thought of liking him terrified me, but the thought of love - the thought of love sent me to an unknown universe of which I had no control over. It left me utterly helpless in my defense.

But then again, Garrett had a girlfriend. A girlfriend he fought with on the phone after shows, a girlfriend that he whined and whined about day after day. And yet he was still obliged to her.

He loved her, right?

But then...why, oh why, was he spending all of his time with me, Nicole, the whore? Nicole, the lost cynicist, the one who didn’t know what she wanted; the one who had no idea what love was?

“Erm,” Garrett’s sleepy voice bellowed in my ear, disturbing my thoughts. “You awake, Nic?”

“Yeah.” I turned my head, smiling at him.

“How ya feeling?” he asked, moving closer to me so that his body was next to mine.

“Better, I think,” I said, tracing shapes into my pillow. “My head hurts quite a bit still.”

“Well, it was quite the accident you had there,” he chuckled. I could feel his breath against the nape of my neck. I sighed, resting my hand next to my head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting his head “You alright?”

“Gar,” I looked over at him, soon turning around so that we were facing each other. “What exactly are we doing?

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I, well, it just seems like we’ve been spending more time than usual together,” I stated.

“So?” he asked pointedly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” I said. It’s just, I don’t know. I just want to know what exactly this is..”

“What what is?” he inquired. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“What this is,” I answered, motioning from me to him. “What’s going on between us?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “We’re just friends.”

“Garrett,“ I rolled my eyes, soon sitting up. “You never answer your girlfriend’s calls anymore. And you spend practically all of your time with me.”

“That’s not true,” he chuckled, “I’m with the guys, too. There‘s a difference.”

“Yeah, big difference.” I shrugged, getting up from the bed. I found my shoes in the corner of the room and began to put them on.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting up now. “It’s eight in the morning. No one’s gonna be up.”

I rolled my eyes. He just didn’t understand, or didn’t have the mental capacity to. “I don’t want to be around you right now, so I’m going downstairs,” I stated flatly through gritted teeth.

He got up, rushing over to me, his torso still bare. “What the fuck is this about? First everything’s fine and you’re bringing this shit up. I don't fucking get it.”

I laughed, bitterly, throwing my hands in the air. “Honestly, Garrett, what do you think this is about?”

“I don’t know, Nicole.” he shouted slowly, frustrated. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

“God, Garrett,” I replied, shaking my head. “Exactly how dense are you?”

He looked at me, bewildered, thrashing his arms. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“Just fucking think about it,” I shouted, smoothening out my dress and walking out of the room. “Maybe it’ll get you somewhere.”