A/N: So... It's my birthday again. And I'm giving you something. I hope you'll enjoy.
. . .
Wasted – Chapter 12
. . .
Part One
Work
. . .
When I do make it in the film industry, I know I'm going to be the kind of person that buries herself in work and alcohol to forget about her personal life. That was my second response to Idate's life-coach speech. My original response was to botch my Art History midterm and run home bawling like a baby, where I stayed for the rest of the week. I asked Ino to pick up the Art students' work on her own because I didn't trust myself to face Sai. She agreed because I sounded like crap.
She'd been expecting my call after seeing Idate. He didn't ambush her as I suspected, but to her, it was clear that he was going to seek me out. She let it slip that I've been sleeping around since he broke up with me and it seemed to have upset him, because he kept asking questions until she told him everything. She couldn't call me afterwards because he caught her right before one of her classes started and I'm guessing I got it that late because she was somewhere phone service is crap. Had I known sooner, I would've left school. It would've spared me the pain. She was considerate enough not to give me her "I told you so" speech, which I'm sure she's already prepared for when the time is right.
Sai texted me Thursday night. When I didn't answer, he tried calling, to which I didn't answer either, so he just kept texting. It's only at two in the morning that I realised I wouldn't be able to sleep, so I decided to read his texts instead. I hesitated at first, because I thought it would only make me feel worse, but I found I was wrong.
FROM:
Sai
u coming to the art room?
5:23P Thurs Mar 03
. . .
FROM:
Sai
is somethig worng?
6:37P Thurs Mar 03
. . .
FROM:
Sai
call me
6:51P Thurs Mar 03
. . .
FROM:
Sai
ino says u saw ur ex
are u ok?
7:09P Thurs Mar 03
. . .
FROM:
Sai
u told me about him
u dont have to go thru this alone
7:17P Thurs Mar 03
. . .
FROM:
Sai
sakura plz pick up
7:34P Thurs Mar 03
. . .
FROM:
Sai
(Part 1/2) sakrua just remember
taht ur an awesome person and
u deserve so much better then
how he treated u... im here for
if u need someone just
11:58P Thurs Mar 03
. . .
FROM:
Sai
(Part 2/2) dont shut me out
if theres anything i can do just
tell me any time
11:58P Thurs Mar 03
By the time I was done, a new wave of fresh tears was flowing down my face. Even his terrible spelling doesn't make it easier to read his texts. I want his help, I want him to listen and make my problems go away, but I'd have to tell him about Sasuke and I'm really not up for that. If he knew, he might want to fight for me and he'll start being obvious and deliberate in his flirting with me and I don't want that. I mean, sure, he's nice now, but my ex was just as nice when we started dating and look where I am now.
It's now Spring Break and Ino and I are spending the entire week out of town, doing most of the filming for our final project. It's like I slipped into a warm, bright bubble of tranquility. I'm in my head, entirely focused on my work, trying to be as efficient as possible. Ino directs, I man the camera and we got Kiba, our classmate and Ino's current boy-toy, to act as our sound tech. Everything runs so smoothly, the two days we've done so far have both ended earlier than expected. The actors are good, the weather's on our side and Ino and I know exactly where we're headed with what we're shooting.
The only hitch we encountered was my period that hit this morning, on a Sunday as it does one month out of two, while we were standing in the middle of a forest, shooting a chase, about half a mile from the nearest bathroom. There was a brief moment of panic, mostly on Ino's part, which in retrospect was goddamn hilarious, and one of the actresses graciously drove me to a convenience store and offered me one of her pads.
Recounting the anecdote now, as we're all sitting in Ino's father's basement, in front of the giant TV screen of his home theater on which we're watching our rushes to see if we're missing anything, boozing on dessert wine and bottled strawberry Daiquiri, it all seems extremely funny. I like being drunk. Not all the time, don't get me wrong, but when I am, I feel good. I feel better than when I'm high, as if I were more in control. And I have more energy.
I haven't told Ino about my recent dip into drugs. I reckon she's still sore about Kakeru and she wouldn't forgive me if she knew. And I need her. If I'm going to be avoiding Sai and living without Sasuke in my pants, because that's the kind of future I seem to be headed towards, I'll need someone to talk (read: whine) to, someone who'll cheer me up.
Our mistakes and mishaps on the screen seem funnier with the added help of the dessert wine and soon, we're all howling with laughter. The male actor I'm sitting next to leans gradually more and more against my arm and the warmth his body radiates keeps me where I am. At some point, my head plops down to rest on his shoulder, which he doesn't protest and instead stretches an arm around me to make it more comfortable for the both of us. Sometimes, he turns to brush his lips against the top of my head, sometimes I look up at him and we talk in hushed tones while the others keep on being loud. I know I'll be hard pressed to recall anything we said tomorrow, but I can hardly get myself to care. I feel too good.
We pass the wine around, we recount shenanigans that didn't get filmed, we watch Ino dance to imaginary music then collapse on Kiba's lap and by ten o'clock, we all really need to take a leak. It's a race to the bathroom that leaves us laughing even harder and once everyone's done the deed, Ino and I order a lights out. We might be drunk out of our minds, but we've done this before and we know that we shouldn't add lack of sleep to everyone's inevitable hangover if we want to be as productive tomorrow.
Also, both Ino and I have specimen of the male population to tend to.
The female actresses and the other male actor, who's as into girls as meatloaf – but absolutely amazing at acting contrary to his sexual orientation – slip into sleeping bags installed on camping mattresses in the basement. Ino, Kiba, my piece of man-meat and I stagger upstairs. I barely register Ino disappearing into her room with Kiba before pushing my night's entertainment into the guest bedroom.
This room feels about as familiar as my room back home. I spent so much time here in elementary and high school, Ino's dad often joked that he would send adoption papers to my parents. I don't even need to turn on the light to find my way around. As soon as the door slams behind me, I'm all over my actor.
I haven't had sex in a while, not by choice, and even then, the last time was so frustratingly unsatisfying, everything feels ten times better than my previous encounter. His lips, his tongue, his hands, his entire body, warm and hard against mine, everything confirms my choice of jumping this person who's technically my employee. I mean, thank God for actors. They know they need to look fit and sexy if they want to make it anywhere, so they take really good care of their bodies. Also, they know that any acting opportunity could lead to their big break, and they're not above sleeping with the boss to get there.
It's corrupt and somewhat terrible, but in this case, I'm the boss, so I don't mind. It's actually kind of sexy.
I know I won't remember much of this when I wake up tomorrow, but that's never stopped me in the past. Sure, with Sasuke, it was better to remember everything, but–
No.
No, I'm not letting him ruin my night.
No more thinking about him.
Back to the task at hand.
I rip his shirt off of him and attack his pants. He pulls me to him by pressing his hands on my butt and bends down to bury his head in the crook of my neck. His hands slip upwards under my shirt and unclasp my bra, then pull everything off faster than I can realise it. He plays with my boobs for a moment while I struggle to slide his pants and boxers down. Before they're off, he slips his hand in his pocket and retrieves a bunch of condoms. Good, he came prepared.
When he's finally exposed, I grab his penis and give a single, powerful pump of my hand to make him understand that I'm in charge. I'm the boss, I get to decide. His mouth comes back to mine and he peels my pants off me. It's when he gets started on my panties that I realise something.
I'm on my period.
How could I forget that?
How could anyone forget that?
Why is he still pulling my underwear down?
I push him away, weirded out. He looks at me with a mix of surprise, confusion and, I must admit, undeniable lust. I cling on to my panties, slightly mortified and even more frustrated than before. I have to tell him, which is embarrassing in its own right, but doing so will guarantee a cease fire and I don't think I can last five days. Especially if I'm going to spend those five days around him literally all the time and around Ino and Kiba in the honeymoon phase of their fuck-buddy relationship. I remember how Sasuke and I were, plus Ino's a contender for Sex Addict of the Year and Kiba just one gigantic horndog, so it's bound to be excruciating.
Just when that thought passes through my head, we start to hear loud moans from next door and a headboard slamming into the wall. Goddamnit.
"I'm on my period," I let out, waiting for his erection to flop down. It doesn't.
"I know," he says, panting.
Wait, what!? He knew and he kept going?
"I've always wanted to have period sex," he adds.
Oh, thank God for actors!
They're ready to do anything and this one more than the rest, even to pretend he has a period fetish. It doesn't take any more than that for me. I jump at him, hurl him to the bed, drop my panties to the ground and climb on the bed to mount him. I'm the boss, I'm on top. He slips a condom on, then guides my hips to hover above his erection. He thrust up into me and then I'm riding him for all I'm worth.
I must admit I'm screaming a bit louder than I should, but I'm trying to one-up Ino. My actor's letting his voice out as well, but I have no way of knowing if it's genuine. For all I know, we could both be faking it to win the Loudest Sex Award. Also, I'm sort of encouraging him, because as good as it feels, he's not as skilled as, ahem, other partners I've had. So, maybe that's what he's doing too.
Oh, who cares? If I don't come, I'll just get him to go another round.
Besides, we got the headboard to bang against the wall.
. . .
Sasuke's eyes. Black. No, blue. No, green. No, grey.
No. Red.
Locking with mine. Boring into my mind, seeing what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling.
Pupils, dilated. Bringing his irises back to black. Bottomless, piercing, maddening.
Now soft. Eyelids closing.
I open mine.
. . .
So, um...
What's the actor doing in my bed? Naked?
I'm wearing my panties, but the sheets are gone, so I'm guessing we had sex and then had the decency to clean up a bit. He doesn't have any blood on him, so either my panties never came off or he took a shower. And yes, I realise how disgusting this idea is and how weird it is that I'm so detached.
I sit up and plop back down on the mattress when I'm hit by the full force of my hangover. Add to that the usual dehydration that comes with having a period and my head feels like it's splitting in two. The blinds on the window are mercifully closed and only very little sunlight seeps in. I (literally) crawl out of the bed and feel around for my clothes on my hands and knees, choosing to keep my eyes closed as long as possible.
As I hook on my bra, I hear a grunt behind me. Hopefully, he's not waking up. I won't be ready for this awkward conversation until I've talked to Ino and ingested some caffeine. I slip into my pyjamas and hurry out of the room without so much as glancing at him.
It's not that I'm not used to awkward conversations. In fact, I stopped worrying about them when I stopped keeping track of how many guys I slept with. By that time, I was on seven of them's speed-dial, I'd started carrying condoms with me and I'd fit pregnancy tests into my monthly budget plan, along with the pill and my cellphone bill. The problem with this particular conversation is that I still have to spend the rest of the week directing this dude, whereas I usually never address another word to my night's entertainment after we've done the entertaining. Except for the booty calls, but even then, very few words are uttered.
I step into the kitchen. Contrary to what I would've expected, the sight of Ino brings a frown to my face. She's glowing. She has that glow that one can only achieve with morning sex. Or a pregnancy, but I refuse to accept that option. She has this goofy smile and a special sparkle in her eyes, and the whole of her blissful body language really pisses me off, because I used to look like that.
"My God, Sakura, what's wrong?" She asks, looking somewhat genuinely concerned. "I'd have thought with the night you had, you'd look a little better."
Okay, that smug smirk really isn't necessary.
"Shut up," I grumble, making my way over to the cupboard where the coffee mugs are kept.
"Hey, be nice." She points at me with a spatula and I realise that she's making pancakes. "You're gonna need my friendship today."
"Why?"
"Well, first of all, I'm making breakfast, and I could just accidentally drop the salt shaker in your ladle of batter. Or forget to cook your share of bacon."
"Your threats don't scare me."
"They should."
"The actors have to suck up as much to me as to you."
"Yes, I heard that. Last night." I gasp, falsely offended.
"Bitch."
"Oh, look! The salt shaker is just so close to my ladle."
"My minions will sacrifice their breakfast to me. You need a better incentive for me to be nice to you."
There's a silence. A really awkward silence, at that. It doesn't take a genius to understand that Ino wants to tell me something that she knows I won't appreciate and she's dreading the moment the words spill past her lips. She seems to take a particular interest in the pancake she's just flipped and it's now her turn to frown.
"Ino?" She doesn't answer. "Dude, what's wron-"
"Sai's coming over."
"... When?"
Okay, that's not the question you should've asked, Sakura. I would've recommended inquiring about the reason of Sai's visit or showing my disbelief and outrage with a startled "What!?"; I would not have asked about the instance of his arrival, because it's not something that's supposed to matter to me.
But the thing is, I couldn't help the feeling of excitement that rushed through me for half a second, just as much as I can't help the feeling of disgust towards myself that's now overtaking my brain. Ino, unaware of my inner head-to-wall slamming, tries and fails to answer matter-of-factly.
"On Friday. I didn't have any space in my car for the 3D human-sized goldfish, so I asked him to bring it over."
I simply stare at her, my face blank – well, as blank as I can make it. She shrinks under my gaze, looking more and more uncomfortable with each second that passes. Good.
"B-besides, we might need an extra pair of hands."
"I DO NOT NEED HIS HANDS."
Crickets.
Okay, that came out without my consent. And in a way too high-pitched tone to sound even remotely normal. Ino eyes me with pity, now, and I'm perfectly aware of why she does. Eleven years of friendship makes two people too in tune with each other to ignore the obvious signs of denial and-slash-or yearning, or any other kind of emotion.
Ino knew when I fell in love with Idate before I did and I had to tell her she wasn't in love with her first boyfriend because she couldn't figure out that it was the idea of a boyfriend that charmed her, not the boy himself (it's a shame, too, because he was probably the most decent guy she's ever had in her life).
"Oh, Sakura," she circles the counter to me and takes me in her arms. I let myself be taken but otherwise make no move to return the gesture. In fact, I've gone limp. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."
"Mn."
"I..." She starts. "I think you should trust him."
I know what she means by that. It's not that I don't trust him right now. If I didn't, I wouldn't have talked to him in the first place. She means that I should trust him not to do what my ex did. She means I should put an end to my celibacy and give a shot at falling in love again.
And... I don't know.
Especially now, with the actor I suspect I had sex with last night (there really is no other explanation as to why he slept in the same bed as me and why we woke up in only our underwear). How am I going to explain that one? Plus, I'm sure that kid will come on to me again before the end of the week.
"Sai's a good guy, Sakura."
Well, of course he is. I know that. He's charming and smart and funny and he likes my colour scheme. He's not pushy about sex (or anything, really), he's not overly arrogant and certain of his ability to get me like someone I know, he's not rude and there's not a shred of violence in him. I mean, sure, he smokes up every once in a while, but that's not a deal breaker. Besides, he's an artist, which is a quality in itself and it explains the drug use. Sort of. Really, there's no doubt that he's the perfect boyfriend.
I don't even know why I'm hesitating. I haven't known him that long, but what I do know about him is more than I've known about the vast majority of men in my life. Hell, I know more about him than about Sasuke. We don't have that much in common, but then, neither do Sasuke and I.
And Sai cares about me. That counts. I haven't spoken to Sasuke in weeks. He's just like any other booty call I've had. We don't care about each other outside of sex. That's how these things work and that's how we are, now. Ino prefers Sai, so he even gets along with my best friend. Really, he's perfect.
I just...
...
I'll see when he gets here.
. . .
Part Two
Wager
. . .
I slip out of bed, leaving the actor snoring into his pillow. I slip on my shirt and pull my pyjama pants over my underwear, then waddle out of the room. No one's awake yet, it's only five-thirty in the morning. I haven't really slept. Even after giving some to Oscar Bait over there.
Today's the day.
Sai's going to be here in a few hours.
I got more nervous by the hour these past few days and right now, I seem to have reached the epitome of jumpiness. I tried burying it in work and alcohol and mindless sex, but as soon as I have a second to think, my brain is thrown back into this spiral of confusion and indecisiveness that keeps me awake at night. It's only towards the end of the night, around four or five o'clock, that my eyes are too exhausted to stay open and I sink into sleep.
And when I sleep, I dream of Sasuke.
So I wake up an hour later, just as exhausted, but unable to go back to sleep. Or unwilling to, I'm not sure.
I trudge my way to the bathroom, shoulders slumped, vision still blurry. I close the door behind me, pull my pyjamas down and plop down on the toilet. I sit there, in almost complete darkness, only able to see with the scarce amount of moonlight seeping in through the small window. It's still early March, there won't be sunlight for another hour and a half. I make shadows on the floor with my feet.
Point. Flex. Point.
I wonder, if I hadn't discovered the fantasmagorical world of Saturday morning cartoons, would I still be taking ballet classes? Would I be a ballerina, now? I took classes when I was three, but then my parents decided it was a good idea to get cable and I started throwing fits every Saturday morning because I didn't want to go and miss my shows. So my parents pulled me out of the classes and I haven't looked back.
Sometimes, I catch a movie about dance and I look at the girls' pointing feet and I wish mine did the same. But then again, I know that getting on pointes destroys feet and legs in general, and I kinda like not having bunions and permanent blisters from the ankles down. Feet are pretty essential, if you ask me. Girls shouldn't be bending them and squeezing them into two-sizes-too-small pointe shoes and then standing on their toes. Toes are meant to balance the body, not support its entire weight. Even if the finished product is really beautiful.
My pad's mostly clean, so I replace it with a new one for hygiene and preventive measures – in case my period's not quite done – then I wipe, get to my feet, flush and waddle over to the sink to wash my hands.
I have a quick look at myself in the mirror and in the moonlight, I look sickly pale and unbearably tired. I almost scare myself. I switch on the lights to get a better look, and I look even worse, because now I'm squinting and I can properly see the three-feet-wide bags under my eyes.
I splash water across my face, slap my cheeks a few times to try and get some colour back into them, but to no avail. I pull on my skin with my fingers, stretching it back like a facelift or pulling in down under my eyes to look like a Basset Hound, then let it flop back into place. I slip my fingers through my hair from the front to the back, then bunch it up in my hands and stack it on top of my head. I let go and it flows down around my head, past my chest to my waist. I need a haircut, but I've never had a good enough reason to get one. It has to come from an existential crisis or an emotional need for change.
When I broke up with Idate, I got square bangs. Ino laughed at me until it grew out again.
I look at my fingernails through my mop. The polish, which I named "I Blue Him" – I was inspired by the real name which is something like "Blue-Me-Off" or "Blue-Me-Away" – looks miserable, all chipped and still splattered with paint. I haven't changed it since the last time I hung out with Sai. I thought he'd like it. It's a Rococo colour.
Oh, God.
He's going to be here in a few hours.
. . .
I ended up taking a shower. And a bath.
There are so many ways a human being can feel dirty, and I felt them all. Unfortunately, there's only so much dirt soapy water can remove. After that, you have to find some other way to clean your figurative insides. Hence the bath. It cleared my head for a while, but once I was freezing and pruny, gloomy thoughts invaded my brain again.
I've been whoring out with Oscar – this shall be his nickname from now on – this entire week, and before that with Sasuke and before that, half the male population of the school. I ain't even exaggerating.
Okay, maybe a little. Still.
Anyway, that's not the point. Focus, Sakura, focus.
The truth is going to come out eventually. If he spends the day with us, I can't guarantee the actors will keep their mouths shut. Especially Oscar. And if by any chance they manage not to unintentionally throw me under the bus, my partner in sort-of-crime is very likely to come back for more tonight, since he'll want to secure a spot on my next project – I'm not sure if he didn't get that this is my final one or if he just expects me to become professional right out of college – and he'll do it in front of Sai, which will then throw me under that very same Sakura-is-screwing-around bus and I'll probably die of embarrassment.
I mean, Sai knows about the post-Idate, pre-Sasuke period of my life, but he thinks I've stopped since. And that's my fault, because that's what I told him. I led him to believe that I was done with sleeping around because I was scared of what he might think of me. Guess that's just another proof that Karma's a vindictive twat. I have nearly nineteen years' worth of proof already, but Karma's the gift that keeps on screwing you over.
I had Ino French-braid my hair to the side – while I bawled like a baby – and then fussed for two hours over what I would wear. Of course, as we came here to shoot a movie and as we're mostly shooting outside in the semi-wilderness, and as we didn't plan to go out for mundane activities at any point, I don't have anything remotely non-hobo-like to put on. I have old ripped jeans, which I've already slathered in mud, the sweatpants I used to repaint my room two years ago and a panoply of shapeless band shirts that either belonged to my dad (and that technically still do, but he doesn't really wear them anywhere and he hasn't called me out on it yet) or that I bought three sizes too big in my mid-high school tomboy phase. I have since discovered the joy of buying band shirts in my actual size, but I used to like floating in my clothes.
Even my outer wear screams "camping trip". My coat got splattered with mud just as much as my jeans, my fingerless gloves – don't sneer, they're practical when I'm working with a camera – are all ripped between the index and thumb spaces and my beanie doesn't do anything to disperse the image of hobo I'm harboring.
I don't even have matching socks!
Around eight o'clock, the doorbell rings and I can feel my stomach detach itself from the rest of my digestive system and take a plunge to my heels. I can feel panic creeping up inside me, so I resort to hiding out in the bathroom, with the pretext of helping the actresses with their zombie makeup. I lock the door for good measure.
Then it hits me.
I left Oscar, Ino and Kiba alone with Sai. If there's a most efficient way I could shoot myself in the foot, this is it. My tension-reliever, my blabber-mouth of a best friend and her boyfriend who doesn't know or particularly care that I might get in trouble if someone tells on me, alone with Sai. Unless I do something right now, I've pretty much signed my own death sentence.
I burst out of the bathroom, eyes wide and face flushed, not exactly sure of what I should say. The first person I see is Ino, inspecting the gigantic plaster goldfish while Kiba – the second person I see – holds it up vertically. Third, I see Oscar, arms crossed, leaning against a wall, smirking at me – an ugly smirk, nothing like Sasuke's. I feel the need to roll my eyes, disgusted. Why did I even consider sleeping with him?
Then I see Sai.
And he sees me. And his face breaks into his smile, his beautiful smile, and I know I'm lost.
I don't believe what I feel is love. Not yet. But I'm definitely on my way. I haven't felt this nervous – but the good kind of nervous – around someone since the beginning of my relationship with Idate. I look Sai up and down, taking him in, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks. His eyes are steady, unwavering.
"Hello," he says in his silky smooth voice. Oh God, I just qualified someone's voice as "silky smooth".
"Hi..." I say very quietly. I'm not even sure he heard me. But he saw my mouth shift, so he knows. He steps towards me but is stopped mid-tracks by Ino.
"No time for that, I'm afraid," she says, pressing a hand to his chest to make him back up. "We need to leave now. You were late."
"Sure." He smiles at her. My God, I love his smile.
. . .
The day was generally uneventful. I was able to focus on work long enough to get all the footage we needed, mostly because Ino sent Sai on errands every five seconds. I felt bad for him, but I can't deny that having a runner on set is very useful. We worked more efficiently since we didn't have to stop because one of us had to leave her station to go get something missing. We'd just send Sai on a quest and keep working on other shots that didn't require what we sent him on a quest for.
I haven't had a chance to tell Ino about changing my mind, and she's taken it upon herself to keep Sai away from me. She probably decided on that four days ago, when I seemed to panic at the mere thought of being in the same room as him. She went into Super Best Friend mode and proceeded to do everything in her power to send Sai out of my vicinity like a blazing case of herpes would.
I should probably call her off.
When he's not running around – which means that he's holding pieces of equipment for us – he spends a lot of time looking my way. I've caught him many times, but contrary to what Idate used to do when he started liking me, Sai doesn't avert his eyes when he realises I've spotted him. He just holds my gaze, unmoving, and I can't help but get the feeling that he's trying to figure something out.
When he can, he stands very close to me; so close that he manages to keep me warm in the freezing weather. The beginning of the week was quite warm for early March, but it's gone back to being around four or five degrees Celsius out, and I find myself feeling grateful for Sai's hovering. But only because of the warmth.
Being so very close to him makes me nervous. I shift uncomfortably, I get really self-conscious about what I say and how I work and I trip over my own feet more often than acceptable. We've had to film additional takes of the day's scenes because my pans and travellings are too shaky. At some point, even Kiba stopped a take to tell me to stop breathing so hard because he could hear it in the microphone and the noise was ruining the sound quality.
Thankfully, we didn't finish much later than we planned, but it was mostly thanks to the only one of the actresses who was done for the day slipping and spraining her ankle and Ino sending Sai to drive her home while we finished wrapping up the movie. The two remaining hours went by swimmingly.
The rest of the night, not so much.
I dreaded the moment I'd be back at Ino's dad's place, where Sai could very easily corner me and force me into talking to him. Although he doesn't seem like the type to corner people, my experience with pretty much everyone I've met in my life tells me no one is entirely as they seem. But now that I'm actually here, I'm avoiding him like the plague. Avoiding Sasuke at school, amongst thousands of students, was impossible, but I find it oddly easy here, with only six other people sharing the same breathing space.
I keep giving as a pretext an urgent need to go to the bathroom, where I stay for entire half-hours, or pretending to be getting started on the obligatory paperwork we need to hand in before we can start editing. I hide in my room to do so, but I end up just reading and listening for footsteps. Oscar came knocking a little while ago, but I sent him off.
... Fine, I told him he could have me later. Which he won't! But I had to find some way to keep him from babbling to Sai, didn't I?. I promised him he could have me if he kept silent about it.
Needless to say, I indulged in alcohol. Not enough to do something stupid, but just enough to not feel so stressed about the situation. While still hiding away in my room. Yeah... The real party to celebrate the end of shooting is tomorrow, so that's when I'll have to watch myself, anyway.
I don't get myself. Well... I never did entirely get myself, but I find I'm being very confusing, today. I've recognised that Sai is the perfect boyfriend, but I'm still jittery about dating him. I've admitted that I actually like him, but I'm avoiding him like I'd avoid Jack Nicholson in a seventies-themed, symmetrically-filmed hotel.
Knock knock knock.
"Sakura?"
Oh, no.
"Yeah?"
No, no, no, please!
"Can I speak to you?"
Go away.
"Uh... Sure."
Stupid mouth, stop saying stupid things!
He opens the door and peeks through before setting foot in my cave of misery. I'm not sure if I'm worried or thankful that he closes the door, but at least there's no lock on it, so I'm not actually stuck with him. My guess is he doesn't want either to be interrupted or to expose our conversation to everyone's eyes and ears. How very sensible of him.
He sees me, sitting on the floor, against the wall on the far side of the room, partly hidden by the bed, under the window that looks out into the house's backyard. The lights are off and all that makes me visible is the back porch light coming through the window. Sai doesn't question my choices – while it's the only thing I've been doing for the past two months – and merely walks over and sits down next to me against the wall.
We sit there, looking everywhere but at each other, and I'm feeling more stupid and nervous by the second. I'm shaking and sweating and I'm pretty sure I'm dying. If he could only say something, anything, because my voice is failing me and nothing comes out and if neither of us breaks this terribly awkward silence, I will collapse.
"Hey."
Hey?
Hey!?
What the hell is with that "Hey"!?
Oh my God, Sakura, relax. He just said "Hey", there's nothing wrong with that.
"Hi." You cold-hearted bitch. Be nice to him.
"... Are you mad at me for something?"
I freeze. Is that the vibe I've been giving off? Oh, God, it is! I didn't reply to his texts, I didn't try to contact him all week, I avoided him all day and I didn't so much as address a single word to him. I was so caught up in my own panic that I didn't even bother thinking of the repercussions of my actions.
"No, of course not," I answer, finally turning to him. He's still looking ahead.
"Then why are you ignoring me?"
Here we go. I have to tell him. This might be the only chance I get, especially if I decide against it and simply deny ignoring him. Even if it's not what I've been doing at all. But what I'm feeling might really just all be in my head. I've been thinking about it all week, and I've drawn conclusions of my own, but I have no idea if he did the same. Maybe I've just been over thinking everything and assuming things when I should've just waited to see him.
My God, I'm an idiot.
"I'm..." Come on, Sakura! "I'm scared – no, not scared – worried of... what might happen if I..." Stop hesitating, damn you! "If I let myself like you."
"Why is that?" His tone is so soft. Why am I worried again? Oh, right.
"Last time..." I start. "T-the last time I liked someone, he–"
"I'm not like him," he cuts me off. I stay silent, because I think he wants to keep going. "You can't go around thinking that every guy is the same."
He turns his head to me and continues.
"It was only one guy. Even if he was the first one, it's still not representative of the entire male population. You were young, there was almost no way that relationship would've lasted. Please don't take this as me attacking you, but you need someone to tell you this. You have this premade misconception that all men will end up betraying you and it... It can't be healthy.
"And the worst part is that you seem to think it was your fault that your relationship went up in flames. All sixteen-year-old boys want to have sex. But for some of them, it's like their sole purpose in life until they're in their twenties. So, if they don't get it from their girlfriends, they'll be very easily swayed into another, easier girl's arms. That's what happened with your ex."
What is it with people making more sense of my life than me? I live with my issues twenty-four-seven; Sai has known about them for two weeks and he's already figured me all out. He's right. Idate was only one guy. I don't even know why I let it get to me so terribly. In retrospect, it's true that I blamed myself for Idate's cheating. I was just too busy being mad at him to realise it. It feels like Sai is right about everything. Like Idate is. But it's not like when I talked with Idate. I don't feel angry. I just feel tired.
Okay, maybe the tears are coming up a little.
But it's like... Like I'm relieved to know that he gets it more than I do. It makes things simpler. To him, I'm not complicated; I'm not a complete mess. Maybe that's what I need. Sasuke took advantage of my being a mess; Sai makes me feel like I'm not that bad. I might need that in my life, someone who doesn't accept my self-deprecating ways.
Maybe Ino's right about giving Sai a chance.
I look at his face, up and down, every feature. It soothes me. I can trust that face. And I think I can trust the dude it belongs to.
Oh God, I hope I'm not wrong.
"Sai?"
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
. . .
A/N: I've been getting really inspired to write, lately, but not for Wasted. I have two new projects I'm working on and they're taking up all of the free time I have now that school has started again.
BUT I'M TRYING.
I wrote those two chapters separately, but I thought the first one couldn't stand on its own, so I combined them.
If things seem to happen quickly, it's normal. It's how I intended it.