I walked, but I couldn't remember where I started. The path beneath me was unfamiliar, stretching endlessly ahead, yet my feet kept moving. The was air thick, pressing against my skin like unseen hands, and the silence hummed with something wrong.
Then—
Click. Click. Click.
The sharp sound of cameras shuttering pierced the quiet and my breath hitched. Flashes exploded around me, bright bursts that left spots in my vision. I raised my hands to block them, tried to run away but could not.
Then whispers followed. Loud enough to slither through the air, towards me, curling around me like a noose. They were words I couldn't quite decipher, but I felt them. Sharp, cutting and cold.
Someone chuckled and before I could locate them, it multiplied—distorted, echoing, around me. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning in the rising wave of ridicule. My name was woven into the noise, twisted, spat, stretched into something ugly.
I tried to run again, to disappear from this madness but my legs refused to move. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. The ground shifted beneath me, tilting, threatening to swallow me whole. My chest tightened. My lungs burnt. The flashing lights blurred into an endless white void, growing brighter, brighter, until—
My eyes snapped open followed by a gasp of air as my body was shook from the nightmare. My entire body was drenched in sweat. I started counting numbers until my ragged breath returned back to normal as yet the suffocating weight of the dream clung to me like a second skin.
I stared at the ceiling, my body frozen in place, my mind still trapped in the echoes of the nightmare. I
t was just a dream. Just a dream.
I repeated the words in my head, grounding myself, reminding myself that I was safe. Only that it wasn't entire true. It was a bad dream that manifested in real life, once upon a time. It had been a while since I'd had one of those, and now that-
"Think of happy thoughts," I whispered into the silence, my voice barely above a breath.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing something—anything—else to occupy my thoughts. Usually, it took effort to conjure a world of imagination to escape into, but this time, like a spark catching flame, the memories of the previous day surged forward.
My fingers drifted to my lips, tracing them absentmindedly as I felt the ghost of his breath. They tingled with the memory and just like that, I was back in that house. Me on the seat, craning my neck sideways, his face just a breath away. I was there when his fingers paused on my neck, when his eyes lingered on my mouth. I was back when he leaned in—closer, and closer. Back when the room spun slightly, and my eyes fluttered shut, lips parting in silent anticipation. I was back in that moment of waiting… and waiting.
And it never came.
He wanted to kiss me. He almost kissed me. And I was willing to let him. So why did he pull away?
A strangled groan left my lips as I wrapped myself tighter in the blanket and kicked my legs in the air. Everything just kept getting worse—even more embarrassing. I'd just met the guy, and here I was, already turning to putty in his hands. And he knew. God, he knew exactly how much I wanted that kiss.
So why—
"Arrgh!"
I had never felt so frustrated in my life. And I hated it. I hated this—the way I lost control, the way emotions swept over me like I had no say in them. But more than anything, I hated that he didn't do anything about it.
Scoffing, I sat up, arms crossed, trying to make sense of how I ended up here: frustrated, flustered, and way too preoccupied with him.
Was he playing with me? Huh?
I wouldn't be like this if it weren't for all that whispering so close to my ear, the way he touched me like— Ugh! I wouldn't be like this!
I let out a loud sigh, my shoulders sagging under the weight of my own confusion. I was exhausted, mentally and emotionally, caught in this ridiculous spiral between anger and annoyance.
I hadn't asked for any of this. I didn't want to be pulled into whatever this was. And yet, here I was. Right in the center of it in a month I hated. He just kept showing up like some hero, rescuing the so-called damsel in distress and then… then he'd go and seduce me like that.
What the hell was his deal?
More annoyance surged through me, and before I knew it, I was hurling my pillow at the door. My chest heaved, but strangely, I started to feel a little better. Collapsing back onto the bed, I let out a breath and chuckled at myself.
"I'm definitely losing my mind," I muttered, shaking my head, the soft laugh still lingering on my lips.
Nick wasn't the villain here. I was the one twisting this into something it wasn't.
"I'm the problem," I admitted to the empty room.
I get attached too quickly to anything I find myself drawn to. And the only way to protect myself… was to distance myself from him. I already welcomed him to the neighborhood.
"Is everything okay, Mandy?" a soft tap on the door cut through my thoughts and sat up again on the bed. I looked up to find her already halfway in, with my pillow on her hand
"I'm good, why wouldn't I be good?" I asked, feigning nonchalance.
"I heard noise. And you yelling." She held up the pillow and I internally grimace. Dang it. I hadn't even realized how loud I'd been.
"I'm fine. Just annoyed I woke up early again." I mustered a half-hearted smile, hoping she would leave me to my thoughts.
Carrie gave a slow nod, then, to my dismay, walked towards my bed and sat down beside me. "Tanya told me you went to interview Silvia at the Faculty of Technology and…"
I sighed, already knowing where this was going.
"…and he was there," I finished for her.
There was no point hiding it anyway. Especially with the barrage of texts and missed calls I'd ignored yesterday. After everything that had happened—Nick, him, the whirlwind of emotions—I had gone straight home and buried myself in bed, avoiding all their questions.
"I'm fine," I assured her, forcing a smile. "It's been three years. I refuse to let him affect me again."
Carrie raised an eyebrow. "Then why did Tanya say you left in a hurry looking pale?"
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "Because, even though I'm over him, his arrogant, pompous face still makes me nauseous." I pulled a face, making Carrie chuckle. "And as for looking pale, some rude guy slammed into me so hard I pulled a neck muscle."
"What?!" Carrie gasped, alarmed. "Are you okay?"
I shuddered, remembering the sharp, paralyzing pain. "It was terrifying. I felt like any sudden movement would snap my muscle."
Carrie reached out, gently touching my neck. "You should have told us? Does it still hurt?"
"Nope. Thanks to Nick. He helped me by massaging—" I stopped cold, realizing what I'd just said.
"Come again, what?" she squeaked, so loudly I had to shush her before she woke Lizzy up.
"What do you mean massage? That ridiculously hot hunk massaged your neck? Did you end up doing it?"
"Carrie," I hissed, though I couldn't help the amusement slipping into my voice. See why I said I have shameless friends?
"What? Did you or did you not?"
"Of course not. He was just helping. We didn't even kiss… well, almost… but no, we didn't."
"You kissed!"
"Shhh! You're being too loud! And no, we did not kiss! Like I said—almost. A. L. M. O. S. T."
Carrie gave me a stink eye. "I know what almost is."
"You do? Could've fooled me."
"Pssh. Anyway, how did you even meet him if the pain started at school?" she asked, tossing her phone onto the bed, screen-down.
"We met outside the campus," I said, a bit more quietly now.
Carrie frowned, as if something had just clicked. "So I didn't imagine it…" she muttered.
That piqued my curiosity. "Imagine what?"
"I saw him yesterday. On campus." She looked at me meaningfully. "Just for a second—I thought I was seeing things. But now…"
"No way. He doesn't know anyone at school, and I asked him. He said he never stepped foot on campus."
Carrie shrugged, the teasing glint back in her eyes. "So... do you smell that?"
I blinked at her. "Smell what?"
She grinned. "The scent of destiny." a throaty laugh made it's way through my throat. Of course, Carrie would say that.
"Nothing like that, okay? We're just… neighbors."Yeah, neighbors who give each other massages. Totally normal.
Carrie smirked. "Mm-hmm. You know what I think? I think you're having the best days of your life. I think you like the chase."
"Bullshit! He's not even chasing me! Because if he was, he'd say, 'Hey Mandy, I like you, and I want to court you.' Instead, he just flirts, gives me a massage, and then—" I sighed deeply. "I guess it was nothing, really. Just a totally innocent massage."Even I didn't believe myself.
"Please. There's nothing innocent about your not-so-boyfriend with his hands on you."
Lizzy's voice came through...Wait—Lizzy?
My eyes snapped at Carrie before they trailed to the phone on my bed with its face down. I didn't even have to guess before I reached for it and saw the screen. Lizzy had been on the call the whole time!
"What were you saying?" I hissed at both of them, just as Lizzy peeked in sheepishly from the doorway.
"How long have you been awake and listening?" I asked, slightly irritated. I should have known.
"Since Carrie came into your room," Lizzy admitted, stepping closer, hands behind her back like she was five years old again.
"Why didn't you come in then?"
"You know I'm terrible at comforting people. I was afraid I'd say something that would upset you," she said, taking her place on my bed. "So why didn't you just kiss the guy next door?" Lizzy asked bluntly. Classic Lizzy.
"The mood was perfect. What stopped you?"
"I didn't stop him. He stopped himself," I said matter-of-factly.
Lizzy rolled her eyes. "But you wanted to kiss him. So why not make a move?"
"Because I didn't want to seem desperate." she threw her head back and tittered.
"Honey, that ship has sailed."
"Excuse me?!" I blinked at her in disbelief. "I am not desperate!"Then I turned to Carrie. "Do you think I'm desperate too?"
Carrie cleared her throat awkwardly, pretending to cough and suddenly finding the ceiling very interesting.
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "Okay, please. Enlighten me. What makes you both think that?"
"Well," Carrie began cautiously, "ever since Nick moved in, you've been finding a lot of reasons to talk to him. Way more than he's been looking for you."
"And," Lizzy added smugly, "it's painfully obvious you're into him."
My face burned. I opened my mouth… then shut it again. Nothing came out.
"But he seems interested in me too, right?" I bit my thumbnail, nerves crawling up my spine.What if I was so into him I'd made up a story he was never part of?
"Well… he does flirt with you," Lizzy said with a shrug that did absolutely nothing to comfort me.
"I think he is," Carrie added with a soft smile. "He's always there for you."Though let's be honest—being there for someone doesn't automatically mean attracted to someone. Right?
"There's only one way to find out, though," Lizzy said, raising an eyebrow.
I glanced at her warily. "…And that is?"
She leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Deny him the attention. Treat him like any other neighbor. Keep it cool. If he comes looking for you—then you'll know."
I blinked at her. "You want me to just… ignore him?"
"Not ignore. Just stop feeding him," Lizzy said with a shrug. "Be neutral. If he's really interested, he'll notice the shift and he'll make a move."
Carrie tilted her head thoughtfully. "Honestly? That's not bad advice."
"Of course, I also give good advice," Lizzy snorted eliciting a chuckle from me.
But the question was: how long could I actually keep that up?
Shaking off the thoughts, I quickly flipped the conversation to Carrie and the 'pastor's son'"
"Oh, um… about that," Carrie murmured, a rare glow warming her skin. Lizzy and I perked up immediately, leaning in with curiosity.
"O. M. G." Carrie finally gushed, eyes wide and hands pressed to her cheeks. "When he said my name, his voice was so deep and smooth. He was like, 'Nice to meet you, Carriander.'" She mimicked the voice, low and sultry, with a dramatic swoon that made Lizzy snort.
"Carriander?" I raised an eyebrow, grinning.
"Is that even a thing?" Lizzy questioned.
Carrie just shrugged, grinning. "No clue, and I don't care. If anything, it not being a real name makes it even better. It must mean I'm special to him, right?" Her dark eyes shimmered so bright, I could almost swear a million stars had burst behind them. But beneath the sparkle… was she seeking validation?
It was rare to see her like this. The girl who never let a guy get to her. Yet here she was, clearly flustered.
"Okay, spill. Tell us more about this guy," I urged, intrigued.
We gathered on my bed as Carrie launched into her story, about this guy, whose name turned out to be Dave. We were so immersed into the story that everything else faded into the background. Nick, Lizzy's movies, even Carrie's morning run.
February 4th became a day about us—friendship, secrets, and laughter that filled my room. A day where nothing mattered except the bond we shared.