He's a Cheater ✔️

Samantha

I looked at the creased paper, from all the times I folded and unfolded it. I glanced at the number that was already engraved in my brain.
Deven had left our apartment after yelling at me, which in all honesty, I probably deserved, leaving me with an empty apartment and a truck load of guilt. I sat on my bed for hours, just staring at my hands, and then the little paper.
It was tearing at the edges, from my clammy hands that had clasped around it all night.
The sunlight was now pouring into my room, filling the darkness of the night that remained.
For seven hours, an internal battle was taking place in my mind. Should I call this guy Daniel, or not? My immediate answer was no, why would I need to have anything to do with him? But as I thought about it for those seven long, dreary hours, I thought of some pretty good reasons. First, he would tell me about Mary, maybe. It was more of a chance than me sulking here, waiting for a miracle to happen.
Second, I could judge him. I wanted to know if he was good enough for Mary. She didn't deserve to be hurt twice. She didn't deserve anymore heartbreak. The least I could do was ensure that.
And third, I could get some closure myself. I could find out what was going on with her and this Daniel guy. I could accept it, and move on.
But if I did, I might get answers I didn't want, answers that could hurt me more than now. I might find out that she started dating Daniel. I don't think I can bear that.
Daniel might also tell Mary that I called him, which could possibly make her hate me more. If that was even remotely possible.
So I stared at the number on the paper for a while longer.
I looked out my apartment window, for a little fresh air, when I saw Mary sitting alone on a bench. She was leaning over something, which I guessed was her sketchbook, and when she looked up, I saw vague outlines of what it was.
I unlocked my phone swiftly, and pressed the numbers, like they had been implanted in my brain, and listened to the slow rings, impatiently.
"Hello," I heard a bright voice come through my phone. I dropped it in surprise. Then I took a deep breath, and held it up to my ear again.
"Hi...," I said, my voice cracking, "uh... is this Daniel?"
"Yes. And who is this?" he asked me.
"Um... it's Jake."
"Jake Wate?" he asked with incredulity coloring his tone.
"Uh..." I tried to speak.
"I'm surprised you have the audacity to call this number!" he yelled at me angrily through the phone.
"Well I-"
"What more do you want to screw up?" he asked me, just the slightest bit calmer. His words stung, even though he was a stranger, I knew his words were nothing but the truth.
"I just wanted to know if Mary was okay," I choked out, trying not to let the tears slip down my face.
"Like you care," he muttered bitterly.
"I just need to know."
"Well, she sure as hell isn't okay. You broke her heart, you asshole. You cheated on her," he told me, fury rising up again.
"I-"
"Don't call this number again. And don't try to contact Mary either. She doesn't need you ruining her life anymore," he told me, as he pressed the end button, and the line went dead.
A clump rose up in my throat, and I could feel the heat behind my eyes. I sank on my bed, and put my face in my hands.
At the time, everything felt so right, but with just a little few texts, my life had ended, just as it started to get better. And I couldn't blame anyone but myself.
I felt like hurling myself off a cliff, just so I could stop feeling like I was falling apart. I didn't know how I could get through this, like I got through my mother dying.
So much of shit had happened in my life, and all of it was my fault.
If I had heard the fire alarm, my mother would still be alive.
If I hadn't been a complete disappointment, my father would still be around.
If I hadn't cheated on Mary, she would still be here. All my friends would still be here.
The problem was, I didn't know how to be happy. Every time something was going good for me, I found a way to mess it up. And it was always my fault.
*******************************************************
I had found my way to the bar that I had met Emma in. Today, it was pumping with girls, booze, and music. Today, it was perfect.
A lot of people were making out, just in the cool night air, as I climbed the stairs to the wooden doorway that led to the bar.
I opened it slowly, and as soon as I did, I was greeted with bright lights and a bunch of sweaty people grinding against each other. I weaved my way through them, trying really hard not to get lost in the maze that this room had become.  I went to the general direction of the bar, until I finally collapsed on one of the stools.
Some loud and heavy heated music was playing, and the crowd just got rowdier after that. I could barely hear myself thinking.
The bartender came up to me, with a dazzling smile and a really short mini skirt, and I think she asked me what I wanted. And what I wanted was a shot of tequila.
She headed back to get me my shot, when I saw a girl, who was almost unconscious, trying to sit on a barstool.
At first I didn't notice it was her, as she was wearing some really short strapless crop top and even shorter shorts. The reason she was stumbling was probably her long strappy heels. I'd never expect to see her wearing anything like that.
Yet, I could recognize that golden brown hair anywhere, and when she turned around, I already new that it was her. It was Mary.
I quickly got off my stool in alarm, and walked over to her. She had given up trying to sit, and was now just leaning against the rough wooden stool. Her eyes met mine as she saw me, and she stumbled over to me, almost falling flat on her face.
"Mary. What the hell happened?" I demanded her.
"Jake," she said in recognition. "Hey, do you know where Daniel is?"
"You're here with Daniel?" I asked her, white hot anger rising up my throat. Couldn't he take care of her? Why was she at a bar in the first place?
"I guess not anymore..." she told me, almost falling over, even though I was holding her.
"What the hell happened to you Mary?" I asked this time, more forcefully, shaking her whole body, as I wrapped my hands around each of her arms.
"Well..." she started, and then looked up as if she was trying to remember, "the nice lady with the tequila said I looked like I needed a shot, so I took one. And then two. And then three.
"Mary, you haven't ever had alcohol in your life, how could you let this happen?" I asked her, a little softer this time.
"I never noticed how pretty your eyes are," she said, staring into my eyes, with her brown ones. She looked at me for another moment, and then came so close that I could smell the alcohol tainting her breath. She hesitated for a second, and then firmly pressed her lips against mine.
She tangled her long fingers into my hair, pulling me closer to her body. After I didn't react, she groaned, and then led my arms to wrap around her exposed waist. I tried to pull away, but I couldn't. It wasn't just her firm hands not letting me escape, but the need that I felt for this.
I couldn't breathe, soon enough, my whole body feeling like it had been shocked. Like there was electricity coursing through my veins instead of blood.
She slid her tongue across my lips, until she forced them open. That's when I finally got a hold of myself.
I pushed her off of me gently, trying to lead her to the exit of the bar. I took my jacket off without thinking, and wrapped it around the slutty clothes Mary was wearing, clothes that I didn't even think she had owned. She would probably regret anyone seeing her in public like that, so it was better off with her wearing my thin sweatshirt.
She had her arm clutched around me, as weaved through the humid crowds, and we both sighed in relief when we could finally breathe after pushing ourselves through the doors into the cold night air.
We both collapsed in my car, me breathless, and Mary near unconsciousness. It would probably be best if we made it to our apartments before that happened.
I rolled down the windows and slid the key into the ignition quickly, and soon we were bursting with speed, down the highway.
"You're so strong, Jake," Mary said softly, tracing my muscles lightly. "You've been through so much, but you still seem so... put together. Unlike me. One thing goes wrong in my life, and it all falls apart."
I had to hold onto the steering wheel tightly, to stop myself from turning towards her, and hugging her tightly. Here she was, complimenting me, when I was the one who cheated on her. What did I ever do to deserve her?
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" she asked herself, voicing my thoughts, in a still soft voice, and I bet if I looked over at her right now, I could catch a few tears falling down her face.
"Mary, I-" I started. I wanted to say something to make her feel better, when it obviously wasn't her fault for anything. When I was obviously the one who didn't deserve her.
"That's probably why you had to cheat on me," she continued, her voice still the same, just cracking more often. She was going to start sobbing soon. "Because I couldn't give you what you wanted."
I could barely drive now. It wasn't just the guilt that was overpowering me anymore. It was also the anger. Why the hell would Mary think that any of this was her fault? It was all mine. I was the stupid, unworthy idiot here. Not her.
"But now I could give it to you," she began again, looking at me. "It's not like I can't trust you."
I stomped on the brake pedal, shoving my car onto the side lane. She took advantage of the fact that I wasn't driving anymore, to unbuckle her seatbelt, and clamber uncoordinatedly to my side of the car.
She was sitting on top of me, in just a few seconds, and pressing her lips against mine insistently. I could hear a buzzing in my ears, as her soft lips molded themselves into my frozen ones. Her cold hands slid underneath the hem of my loose graphic t-shirt.
After I still didn't react to her, she moved her hands, and I thought she was giving up, so I sighed in relief. But then, she swiftly unzipped my jacket that was on her, and shook it off. My eyes widened, but I couldn't find myself trying to stop her. She brought her hands up to undo the zipper on her shirt as well, which was surprisingly in the front, but I pinned both of her hands to her sides before she could, finally breaking out of my haze. I brought my jacket up again, and pulled it onto her again.
But as soon as I did that, I could see her lip trembling, as tears spilled over, onto her face. I could feel my heart tearing itself into pieces, as her face fell.
"I knew it," she told me, "you just didn't like me!"
"Damn it, Mary! Of course I like you. God no, I love you. But you're drunk. And when you wake up in the morning, you're going to hate me as much as you did before. And you'll have a perfectly good reason to," I told her, pulling her off my lap, onto the shotgun seat again. How could she-no-what was she thinking?
"I never hated you. And I never will," she told me, her bottom lip slipping into a pout. That made no sense. She should hate me. I hated myself. I deserved the worse kind of hell ever possible. But then if she never hated me...
"Well what about Daniel?" I asked her, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She brought her hand up to my face, and smoothed out my face, while she let out a familiar laugh that sounded like a wind chime.
"Daniel's engaged. To a girl named Samantha. She's the one who lent me her clothes. He's just a friend," Mary told me, looking down at her scanty outfit.
"That makes a lot of sense. I knew you wouldn't own something like that," I told her, restarting the engine.
"What? Do I not look good?" she asked me, her face falling, looking at her bare stomach and legs.
"What? No, Mary... you look sexy. But you don't look like yourself. That's why..." I told her, trying not to hurt her feelings this time. She laughed again, and then I joined her, and we both drove back to our apartments, laughing in the drunken haze of just that night.
************************************************
I had walked up the stairs, using all of my strength to carry her, so by the time I reached the 6th floor, I was panting from exhaustion.
I know that I could have just dropped her off to her apartment, but then I would receive patronizing glares from both Caroline and Deven.
Truthfully, that was only a small portion of the reason though. I also wanted to spend the little time I had left with her. I didn't want to cut it short. Even though she was drunk.
It wasn't like I was going to take advantage of her or anything, God knew I couldn't do that. Even though I wanted it, badly, I just couldn't do it. I wasn't able to.
I was already feeling guilty not being able to stop her from the beginning, and if I let her go that far... well let's just say I would be driving to the nearest cliff as soon as I recovered my senses.
When I unlocked my door, with Mary still in my arms, I walked past my school bag, which was set on our dining table, I was praying that Deven had chosen to stay the night at Caroline's.
I kicked open my door, and set her onto my bed, which was still crinkled from the sleepless night before. I grabbed the blanket that was crumpled in the corner, and placed it on top of her carefully.
I thought she was already unconscious, but she opened her eyes and mumbled something incoherently.
"Can you sleep with me?" she asked again, repeating her question.
"I'll just...um... sleep on the couch..." I muttered, grabbing the other blanket from my cabinet, and collapsing on my couch in exhaustion.
When I finally woke up, my alarm clock was buzzing wildly. The red numbers told me I was twenty minutes late. School was going to start in half an hour.
I jumped off of the couch, turning my alarm clock off, and ran to the bathroom.
Then I took two steps back, when I realized Mary was sleeping in my bed.
Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit...
I stood there awkwardly for a minute or two, wondering if I should just ignore her, or wake her up. It was a good thing when she decided for me, by snapping upright, and then banging her head on my wooden headboard.
She clutched her head in pain, as she started to remember all what had happened last night. At least that's what it looked like, with her eyes widening, cheeks turning red, and head tilting down to look at what she was wearing. She stared at in horror for a few seconds, when she looked up at where I was standing, frozen, and started freaking out.
Her hands started flying all over the place, her breaths became short and ragged, and tears started slipping down her face. Soon, sobs were racking her body, and she was shaking the whole bed.
I walked towards her without thinking, and sat down on the bed next to her, wrapping my arms around her loosely.
I was just about to withdraw my arms, but she brought her weak arms up, and wrapped them around me too. She leaned her face into my chest, and soaked up my wrinkled shirt with her salty tears.
I guess after a few minutes of that, she realized what she was doing, and pushed me away. Her wild eyes were red, and she looked like she was going crazy. It was like she wanted me to hold her, but her mind was telling her that that idea was an utterly, completely, idiotic and stupid idea.
And I knew her mind was right, but I was hoping that she wouldn't listen to it.
She pushed herself off of the bed, and stumbled to the door. But before that, she fell into a pile of my dirty laundry.
She crinkled her nose in disgust, as she gave up walking, and simply crawled to my door. I would have laughed, except for the fact that I could barely breathe.
I got up sighing, my whole body numb, anticipating the pain I was going to feel soon. I opened the door for Mary, and held out my hand for her, but she ignored it, and used the ground to help herself up. I grabbed her waist, and it seemed she didn't have the strength to fight me, and she allowed me to guide her out of the apartment.
"So why'd you let Samantha dress you like a slut?" I asked her, keeping my tone light, but I was truly curious. She flushed bright red at that, of course.
"I... well...," she trailed off, "she said I should stop sulking around and find somebody new, so before I could stop her she drove me to that bar and gave me those clothes and told me that she had to pick Daniel up and that they would both come back and we would all leave together, but obviously she never came and I was just sitting there awkwardly, and the bartender brought me a shot, and I took it and I have no idea what I was thinking but she brought me another one and I drank that and then she brought me another one and I drank that too, and then I saw you, and I just really wanted to go home, so I-" she explained all in one breath, stopping abruptly.  I guess she remembered what happened after that, because she turned an even brighter shade of red and stepped a little farther away from me. But then she almost fell, so I held on to her waist again.
"Yeah I know what happened after that..." I muttered as we opened the heavy door that led to the stairs. We walked down the cement stairs slowly, because I was afraid that if we went to fast, Mary would fall and hit her head.
"You must think so low of me..." Mary said in the same soft voice she used last night.
"No Mary-" I started to say.
"I'm a complete idiot," she continued.
"I shouldn't have-" I tried again.
"I'm so weak," she went on. I saw the number 5, which indicated we only had one more floor to climb down.
"Mary you're not-"
"Yes I am."
"Just shut up, would you?"
"No."
"I'm a stupid, weak, idiotic, needy imbecile."
"Mary, what I did to you was absolutely inexcusable," I told her, voicing the thoughts that had been in my head for the last few hours. "It's natural to feel helpless. It's natural to hate me."
"But I don't."
"You should."
"I can't."
"I guess you really are an idiot."
"Oh."
"Mary, I'm joking."
"Sure."
Soon we were in front of her door, and she opened it with the key that was somehow still in her pocket.
As soon as the door unlocked, it swing open, with a freaked out Caroline standing on the other side.
"Oh my god Mary are you okay?" she gushed, grabbing her. Then she noticed me, standing there, because I was the one thing keeping Mary upright. She glared at me through slitted eyes. "What did you do?"
"No. Caroline, it was all my fault. I'll explain. Jake... helped me," Mary told Caroline before she could maim me or anything.
She pushed Caroline through and turned to close the door. I think she mouthed I'm sorry, before she slammed the door in my face.
I think.