These Butterflies

When I wake, my eyes trace the outline of unfamiliar walls. My tired brain searches for an explanation and suddenly the awful realization hits me. I’m in Connor’s bed. My breath gets caught in my throat and then I untangle myself from his sheets. I try to remember what happened but I can hardly even get on my feet. I stumble to the door on my left as my mind continues in attempting to make sense of the situation. When I see the long halls stretching on both sides, I remember something he said to me last night. “I’ll be right next door if you need me.” I walk nervously to the door on my left and knock. When I don’t receive a response, I turn the knob slowly only to find he’s not inside. I go to the door on the opposite side and again, he’s not in there. I move toward the curved staircase on the right of his bedroom door and keep my hand on the elegant gold rail as I go down. I start to remember.

I start to remember how his hungry fingers pulled me into his bedroom. I start to remember his sultry voice telling me he could make me feel better. I start to remember how when I would close my eyes, his lips almost felt like Alex’s, but they weren’t.

When I reach the first floor, I catch a glimpse of my reflection on the mirror attached to the wall across from me. It's at least ten feet away but I can still see the dark circles under my eyes and the look of somebody completely lost and afraid inside them. My dress looks wrinkled and faded from the rain. I make a mental note to avoid any other reflective surfaces and walk further in the unfamiliar structure.

The trail his lips left on my neck tingles and I remember what it made me feel last night. For a moment, I felt like I was the only one that mattered, the only one that existed to him. For a moment, I was important. But in another, it was all different. I realized it wasn't just us. He was comparing me to all the other girls he's been with, and I started comparing him to Alex. That's when it all started to fall apart. I realized that he was going to be the first boy aside from my brother that I’m giving myself to, while to him, I'd be just another checkmark, as insignificant as a grain of sand at the beach. He wasn't like Alex. He didn't know how to make me feel special. I may have felt wanted but I didn't feel loved. Alex was sweet and gentle and the way he whispered my name made me feel like I was going insane. I've thought about the kind of lover Alex could be, imagined it a million different ways in my head, but I never truly knew what I was missing. That’s why it hurt so much more when he made it clear we had no future; he doesn’t care to make love to me ever again. I came crashing down from the top of the world.

I'm looking to my right when I reach the end of the aisle stretching into the staircases. There's a huge flat screen TV and a white leather couch with a glass coffee table in between. My eyes float over to the glass wall with a glistening blue pool on the opposite side.

"Good morning," I hear suddenly. I jump, remembering I'm not alone. Connor is to my left in a kitchen. I just gaze at him. Yesterday he was the last person I would expect to wake up to. His lips curve into a smile and I cringe at the memory of where they were last night. I walk towards the island between us and grip the shiny marble surface. I notice a plate of scrambled eggs and crispy bacon sitting in front of him, steam seductively rising up.

I haven't eaten anything in over a day. My empty stomach feels like it's on fire. "What's that?" I ask stupidly.

"Breakfast." He grins. "Want some?"

Of course I want some, I think. I'm starving and my intestines are twisting. I open my mouth but my answer gets lodged in my throat. I swallow it back down nervously. Being alone with Connor isn't smart. I shouldn't be extending my time with him. "No thanks," I finally say, lowering my gaze to hands as they interlock anxiously. I've made enough bad decisions in the past twenty four hours. I question whether sleeping with my brother was one of them. Anyways, I can't handle anything else weighing on my conscience. "I really need to get home. Everyone's probably wondering where I am…" It takes me a few seconds to gain the courage to look up at his reaction.

He frowns. "Right." He stands to put his plates in the sink on the counter behind him and walks towards me. I wait patiently for him to lead me, unsure of where to go. He just walks me straight down the hall towards the front door. He unhooks his jacket from a coat hanger and wraps it around me before opening the door and heading towards his car before I get a chance to say thanks.

We sit in silence as he drives. I stare out the window, not wanting to look at him at all. My dreariness and the throbbing of my hungry stomach subsides enough to finally allow my mind to make sense of what I'd done and the situation I've stupidly walked into. All I want is to forget everything that's happened.

"So..." He starts off. My body clenches, waiting for him to continue. "When are... Or are we..." He hesitates. "Can we see each other again?"

It's always the same thing with him. I don't know why I was expecting something different. "You have a girlfriend, Connor."

"She's not my girlfriend."

I sigh, frustrated that he doesn't understand I'm not like the girls he normally goes after. "You're unbelievable," I say.

"What?" He acts shocked.

"Are you serious? You were kissing Connie the other day. You brought her here while you have the house to yourself and you bring me the next night! You think you can have two different girls two nights in a row, but that's not going to ever be me.”

"It's not like that with her. It's nothing serious. I can't believe you think I'm sleeping with her."

I don't believe anything he says. I don't even know why I bother anymore. “If I wasn't so messed up last night I wouldn't have came here, and you know that."

“I actually don’t. I don’t know anything that goes through your head. I mean, you talk to me one day and you hate me the next.” I don't respond. We remain quiet for almost a minute when we're closing in on my house. "Listen, I know you're not the kind of girl that just goes to a guy's house and makes out with him and spends the night. I thought maybe I had finally done something right."

He parks his car in front of my house. "I didn't mean to confuse you," I say. "I just..." I don't know what to say next. I don't even know what it was that I wanted. I just always seem to make a mess out of everything. I never do anything right.

"It's fine. You don't have to explain," he says. He keeps his eyes ahead, avoiding eye contact with me. I sigh and step out of his car leaving his jacket on the seat. Once my feet hit the ground, I turn to look at him. His eyes meet mine and he says, “I hope, with time, you can come to realize I’m not as horrible as you think I am.”

“I hope that too,” I say. I close the door and he waits a few seconds before driving off. I stand there until the car is out of my view and take in a deep breath before heading inside.