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He didn’t sleep with the other blonde? He imagined himself sleeping with me again? And he wants to. Tucker, what are you doing…what are you doing to us?
I ask myself this question while ignoring the fact that deep down, my body also refuses to let us have just one night. Did I imagine another night between us? It would be a lie to say otherwise.
Do I still want him? Hell yes, of course I do.
But I can’t. Because I feel guilty about Rafael. Because I don’t want to be attached anymore, to let someone else have the power to destroy me. And because if, after just one time, Tucker and I are in such a pitiful state, then what will it be next time? We can’t do this. I just…I have to move on and ignore the attraction that was supposed to be diminishing between us but keeps getting stronger. This was the plan, after all. He’ll do the same, I know it.
And everything will go back to the way it was before.
I am walking towards the library of the central campus when I feel my cell phone vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans. Lost in my thoughts, my head elsewhere, I pick up without looking at who is calling me.
“Yeah?” I ask as I walk along one of the stone paths.
Nobody answers me. I look at the screen to see who’s calling.
Blocked number.
Is it Agnes playing a prank on me? She already pulled this stunt last month, because she was bored.
“Agnes, that’s not funny,” I mumble.
Still nothing. Actually, something. A murmur. Then the caller hangs up. What’s that?
A dark thought invades me, but I push it away. It can’t be the one who attacked my family. He…he’s dead. This whole thing is over. I have to make him stop haunting me, stop ruining my life. I run a hand over my tired face and rub my foggy eyes.
This is a shitty day.
***
The next morning, my psychology professor, Mr. Tamells, arrives twenty minutes late in the small lecture hall. From the look of his messy hair and the trace of the pillow on his cheek, it looks like he slept through his alarm clock. The last students are taking their seats, and for once, he doesn’t reprimand them for being so late.
I lose my smile when I see Sanchez sitting next to me.
Do I have to remind him that I am bad company in the morning? Certainly. I slowly turn to him, my mouth pursed.
“You don’t—”
“Let me guess, you’re going to tell me to piss off, give me a hard time because it’s morning and you’re in a bad mood? Me too,” he grumbles.
I part my lips, not knowing what to say. I wasn’t going to tell him to piss off…well, not exactly.
His long locks hide his face from me. I give him one last sideways glance and then turn once more to Tamells, who is scattering his papers on the desk in the middle of the stage. He picks up a white chalk and walks over to the huge board.
“Hey,” I whisper to Sanchez, “are you okay?”
He mumbles something unintelligible, in Spanish, but still doesn’t move. When a light snore reaches me, I realize he’s fallen asleep. I can’t believe it!
“Go sleep somewhere else,” I whisper harshly, leaning towards him. “I don’t want you snoring and drooling near me.”
He responds with a louder snore. A student in the front row turns to us, both eyebrows raised as if to let us know to go have fun elsewhere. I glare back at her, not really knowing what to do.
“So, young people,” Tamells begins, “did you have a good time studying in the library this weekend?”
Few people answer him in the affirmative. Sanchez rumbles in his dream, and I roll my eyes when he starts snoring again without discretion.
Just have to make the best of things.
I retrieve the small water bottle from my bag and unscrew the blue cap.
