Fools in Love

12-Noah

Noah

Even though I wasn't going to act on my unresolved feelings for Sam, I did, however, need to set one thing right.

I sat next to Sam at the beginning of class on Friday. He looked at me with surprise and then his face morphed back into his high and mighty expression and faced the front of class. "I think you missed a few stairs, your seat is," he threw his thumb behind his shoulder, "further back."

"I just wanna say something," I paused, thinking he'd respond but he didn't, so I continued "Wesley and I work together," I stated firmly.

"Hm," was all Sam commented.

"I started working at Rosemary like two months ago and a week before that is when I saw Wes for the first time since... since ya' know..."

That time, Sam faced me, "Since you cheated on me?"

My heart squeezed in my chest by the fist of guilt."Sam, I didn't-"

"Everyone's definition of 'cheating' is different. You flirting with someone other than me, you letting someone kiss your cheek other than me, and letting someone dance on you other than me, was cheating in my eyes, Noah."

"I know, I'm sorry," and I hoped he heard how genuine my words were, but there was no going back from that night.

"Why are you even talking about this?" Sam asked bitterly.

"Because after Wednesday, I didn't want you to think the worst. That night at the club was the last time I spoke to him-"

"Besides the morning after when you texted him," Sam pointed out.

Jesus fucking Christ, I wanted to tape his mouth shut, so I could speak without him inputting every shitty thing I had done. "That was the last time I spoke to him. I just didn't want you thinking I got with him right after us."

"I don't care, Noah. I'm dating Ben. Who you date is none of my concern."

Ouch. Obviously Sam's right, but the bluntness in his tone made his true statement hurt even worse. "... you're right. I just-" Okay fuck-head, now stand up and go back to your seat, you're a fucking fool. "...wanted you to know," and I left it at that.

But when I stood up and turned to go to my seat, Sam said, "wait," and I looked back at him. "Thank you for telling me."

I nodded and went to my seat in the way back. I felt better knowing he knew the truth. Whether he believed me or not was on him. I hoped he believed me.

*

You know that moment when you decided to do something and then when you're doing it, you regret it? That was me in my therapy appointment after class with my phone in my hand. My knee was bouncing up and down and I stared at the text message I sent. "This was fucking stupid," I muttered.

"Noah, set the phone down and let's discuss something else," Dr. Zinko suggested. "All you're doing by focusing on it is creating more anxiety. Your mother could be busy."

I scoffed, I highly doubted that my relentless mother was busy. Like seriously, what the fuck? All over my ass the past month and then when I decide to reach out to her with the number she gave me, she takes her damn time to respond?

I took a deep breath before I could chuck my phone against the wall, and set it down on the side table instead.

Facing Dr. Zinko once again, he spoke confidently, "She'll respond. Though I still think you should've called her." I didn't say anything on that, too distracted on the thought of, what if she does reply and wants to meet up? Did I even want to hear her out? Would anything she could say make a difference?