The answered question

1 0 0
                                    

Ashley. 

I wake up fearful.

After the last dream featuring Alex and a heated make out scene escalating to something more, I've been avoiding sleep. I wait until my body can't function anymore, until my eyelids aren't heavy, and my brain is minutes from malfunction. First then do I close my eyes.

Three days have passed. Three days of no contact with Alex. No message, no call, no accidental meeting. He's been living his own life whilst I've been trying to collect my thoughts.

I recall my last dream, but I only remember an odd beginning situated back in Florida, in my old school. I remember no people, but I have a strong feeling my old friends were present. No traces of Alex, no memory of his imaginative touching all over my body. That doesn't mean he didn't show up at some point. My body isn't showing any signs of that, though.

Taking my time I get ready – do my morning routine without skipping a step, enjoy a cup of coffee that I force down my throat and a delicious light breakfast. Then I take the subway to the dance academy, meeting Jonah for a practice.

Yesterday he spent almost the whole class convincing me to create a contemporary choreography with him for a national competition. He tried and tried, pleaded and pleaded, augmented the whole class. Eventually I told him I'd meet today, and we'd talk about it.

I spent the whole ride thinking about Alex and Leo. Everything that happened with Leo happened so fast. It feels years ago, in a different city, country or even lifetime. I wish someone had warned me the first time I bumped into him. A big shining warning sign. It's too late now, I've made too many moves in his game. And I've enjoyed it.

And I crave more. 

********

"What's up with you today?" Jonah asks, sweat dripping down his neck and chest. He re-ties his long hair in a manbun, cursing under his breath how sticky it has become.

Panting for breath, I motion with my hand for him to wait. Instead of focusing on the contemporary choreography he wanted to do so badly, we've been dancing the hardest hip hop choreographies for the past forty minutes.

"Nothing, why?"

He studies my face for a few seconds. Exactly like Alex, but his look is significantly different. "I don't know, you tell me. You seem.... Disconnected from this world."

I shrug. "I guess I am a bit today." I sit down on the floor, reaching for my water bottle. Jonah moves closer to me, grinning.

"What is the reason?" Before I can answer, he adds. "A boy perhaps?"

"Why would it have to be because of a boy?"

"Ashley, love, we're seventeen. If it's not because of love interests then I don't know."

"In fact, there are a lot of..."

"No, no." He shakes his head. "No, Ash, no. It's love or nothing."

I raise my eyebrows, then shake my head. "Well, it's not love." It's a stupid game I've decided to play with my drug dealer. I can't tell him that, that'd be a big mistake to risk.

"It's a boy then, I'm certain."

I sigh, answering him. I should've just stood up and started to dance again. But my muscles are aching, and my legs are sore.

"Who is this boy messing with your head, Ashley?"

"Someone you don't know." I can't be sure I'm telling the truth, because as I'm realising, it seems everyone I meet knows everyone. It's almost like I'm not living in New York City, but in some freaking small town.

BLACK ROSEOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora