Afterglow (BWWM)

Interlude

Light surrounded me.

The sun's morning rays beamed in though my bedroom window, bathing me in warmth. I squinted against the light then yawned around what felt like a mouth full of cotton. An indication I drank too much last night.

That wasn't all I did last night.

A distinct pulsing at my core reminded me of just how crazy things got the night before. I twisted and stretched and my sore muscles flexed with relief. My arms and legs spread across the width of my bed meeting nothing but empty space. I looked to the other side of the bed and frowned. 

I was alone.

Seeing the empty space sent me spiraling with a mix of emotions. Relief was the first feeling I registered. I hadn't looked forward to dealing with an awkward morning after. Yet, my heart sank at the absence. I didn't know what I expected to wake up to, exactly, but I assumed Drew would at least be here, waiting for me to awaken, ready to reassure me. The sight of his familiar smile would have helped ease my anxiety.

Instead, I was left feeling robbed and unsure, wondering where we went from here.

Without Drew to temper my paranoia, I considered all sorts of negative affects to our actions last night. The best-case scenario I could come up with was that Drew and I remained friends, and were able to move on with only the fondest memories of this night with each other. Worst-case scenario? Either he pretends like nothing happened and ignores me for the rest of our lives, or he gets mad at me for not immediately agreeing to be his girlfriend because I wasn't fully ready to let go of Brandon.

I placed an arm over my face to block out the blinding daylight and make it easier to concentrate.

Why wasn't Drew here?

Maybe that's what I should be using my brainpower to figure out. Why the hell did he leave?

I felt the sudden urge to punch something. I hated not having answers, and yet I've felt confused from the moment this whole thing started. Hitting something might actually help me feel better. I could use an outlet for my frustration. I rolled over to grab the pillow Drew used and felt a crinkle underneath me. I moved over and saw a note.

I hesitated.

I regarded the paper with equal parts curiosity and wariness. What if it was bad? What if Drew left a note because he couldn't bear to tell me to my face that I sucked in bed and wasn't worth all the trouble? Or worse, what if he left an ambiguous "don't call me, I'll call you"?

At best, answers awaited me within that folded sheet. Even with the risk to my ego, I had to know what it said. I sat up and unraveled the paper.

I had to go to practice. We'll talk later.

I sighed. A bit cryptic, but at least he wasn't just trying to sneak out. He actually had somewhere to be.

I fell back and stared at the ceiling, letting my arms fall to the side.

So, why did I still feel jilted?

****