The Way The World Ends ✓

Chapter 31. Indigo

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Life is very long

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Here comes another cliché. When Monday came, I walked down the hallway and felt like everyone knew. As a person who has had everyone already stare at her and think about her, I can say that it isn't a good feeling and it's one I know all too well. I knew that no one actually knew, but I imaged they did. I felt like everyone was staring at me, thinking to themselves, look at her. Look at Indigo, she had sex last weekend. Look at the slut.

I'm not saying it was a mistake. It was certainly not a mistake. It was the exact opposite of a mistake. I just felt like so many private things in my life had become public and I was afraid that maybe everyone would find out about this too, and I wanted to hold onto it longer. This was something special just between Nate and me.

"You okay?" Nate whispered to me as we walked down the hallway.

"Yeah," I said in a hushed tone, "Just paranoid. I feel like everyone is staring at me and they know, even though they don't. But also, it's kind of nice that we now have something special between us." He flushed and squeezed my hand. We paused at my locker and I pulled him close to speak quietly. "Virginity is just such a taboo amongst girls. You're a virgin then you're a prude, you have sex and you're a slut."

He leaned forward whispered in my ear, "either way, it's none of their business what we do in the bedroom," he kissed my cheek. "And I don't regret making love for one second."

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and I smiled, shivering a little at his intimate words. "Alright you," I said, poking him in the chest, "Come on, we're going to be late." He smiled at me, but he seemed more distracted than usual.

I grabbed his hand and dragged the goofball behind me all the way to homeroom. As we sat next to each other, I kept glancing at his hand resting on the desk beside me. His fingers were in a constant spasm to the point that he had to clench his hand, but his fist still shook at a closer glance. I tried to work on math problems, but every minute or so I looked over to see Nate still on edge. At one point I reached over and touched his shoulder and he jolted so hard he knocked a textbook off of his desk. He murmured an apology and gave me a weak smile that I didn't buy. I knew something was plaguing him, I just didn't know what. Maybe it was because of his birthday yesterday. He told me numerous times that he hated his birthday because it always reminded him of his mom. That must have been it.

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I was going to ask him about it after school, but Nate quickly pulled me to his car and drove in the opposite direction of our houses. The cold hand of fear clenched my stomach momentarily, but then I thought, relax. It's Nate. He's safe.

"Where are we going?" I asked, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

"Someplace special," there was a smile on his face, but it was still distracted as his eyes caught too many things in our surroundings.

I fidgeted, uncomfortable with the unknown. Yes, I trusted Nate wholeheartedly, but at the same time, there was absolutely no logic to the fearful side of my brain. My left and right were in a constant battle for dominance and it was like a screaming match going on inside of my mind, echoing and echoing and never-ending. I hated it. I hated myself, despite the fact that I was getting better. I could get better, yes, but there's no cure for my panic. It's something I will live with forever, and ever, and ever. It will always be there. My brain will always be arguing with itself, and there's nothing I can do about it.