Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 8

EIGHT

NOVEMBER 2021

I felt shame wash over me as I lay on my back with my hands over my stomach as I lay on top of the duvet.

I felt… dirty, unclean.

My goal for the night wasn’t meant to be losing my virginity with a stranger. I never judged those who went out on hookups on their nights out. But somehow, having known the fact a random man I didn’t know and was never going to see had been inside me, had cum inside me… I wanted to throw up.

My skin felt itchy, and I wanted to stand under a shower and scrub at my skin for hours until I could deem myself feeling clean, until I washed every touch and trace of the man beside me off of me.

I bit the inside of my cheek, wishing I didn’t have to tell the man who I was sharing a bed with that I wished to never see him again. I wasn’t going to bring it up, I was going to wait to see what he said. If he told me to get out, I would fucking run for the hills. If he told me to stay, I would tell him this was a one night thing and he owed me nothing, just as I owed him nothing.

I couldn’t lead him on, I had to remind myself. Ever since… him , I found it hard to tell men I didn’t want them and instead I would act all into them, then ghost them. It was horrible, I knew that. It was like I was punishing all other men by doing what he had done to me.

Should the man beside me ask to stay or for my number, I decided that I would reveal I wanted nothing more than this one night. I wasn’t going to leave him my phone number, and I was never going to ask for his last name or give him my own. We were to part ways with the knowledge we fucked and that was all.

I turn my head to the right, at least willing to bid the man goodbye first before I leave.

But I found he was fast asleep, his eyes closed and his lips parted. My own lips parted, but in sheer shock at the gall of the man. He gave the bare minimum effort and had the audacity to fall asleep right away?

I stood from the bed, allowing the duvet to fall from my body. I walked around the bed in the small space, then reached the two single arm chairs where my bag sat. I slipped back into my boots, trying my hardest to remain as quiet as possible.

I didn’t care to check my makeup, I just grabbed my bag and left the room. Once in the hallway with the door closed, I let my legs rush me as fast as they could to the elevators.

I pressed the button furiously, continuously. A contrast to earlier. I had to get out of there.

My hands went to my neck, feeling as if a noose was closing in, getting tighter with each breath I took.

The elevator was taking too long, so I said fuck it and rushed to the open glass doors beside it. I held tight to the railing to ensure I didn’t fall as I ran in my heeled boots down each floor until I got to the bottom.

Once on the bottom floor, I rushed through the glass doors, back through the foyer to through the front doors. Once the bitter cold air hit my skin, I let out a gasp which soon turned into a sob .

I slapped a hand over my mouth, willing myself to quiet down for fear of calling attention to myself.

I turned and began to walk down the street away from the hotel. I had no idea where I was going, but the further away I was from that man, the better I believed I would feel.

My legs walked and walked for what felt like hours, but was likely only a few meters. Then I found a wooden bench. I threw myself into it, my body shaking with sobs. My bag sat on my lap, and I dug through it hurriedly until my fingers closed in around my phone.

I pulled the device out and unlocked it, then without a second thought I opened my contacts and pressed on Peyton’s name. The line rang just once before she answered, her voice groggy sounding.

“Hello?” Her voice came, quiet. I heard ruffling and suspected she was climbing out of bed so she could be free from her psycho boyfriend to talk to me.

I let out a sob, my hand coming to try to cover my mouth but instead it wrapped around my throat. As if the pressure of my own hand made the feeling of the noose disappear. “I did it,” I said between cries.

Peyton was silent for a second, the only sound from her end of the line being the soft thud of a door close and jingle of keys. “Did what, babe?” She asked, her voice gentle and concerned.

“I had sex,” I said, feeling pathetic for getting upset by the fact I did something I wanted to do.

“Why are you crying? Did he hurt you?” She asked.

I shook my head, then realised she couldn’t see me. “No, he didn’t hurt me. He was… very gentle,” I replied, then remembered the first question she asked. “I’m crying because it wasn’t with…” My sobs cut my throat off, my voice unable to come out.

“It wasn’t with someone you loved,” She finished, knowing the ideal I had for myself which I held with high morals. “Babe, sometimes you’ll do things with people you wish you hadn’t, and that’s okay. Tell me where you are, I’ll come pick you up.”

I babbled out the name of the hotel and told her to drive down past it for a while until she found a black and white clown crying on a bench.

Thankfully Peyton lived closer to the centre of town that I did, and so she arrived in a short ten minutes. Her familiar white Mini pulled up in front of me, and then the window rolled down to confirm it indeed was her.

She looked as if she were about to get out of the car to me, but I rushed to stand and stumbled my way around her car to the passenger side. I found in the mean time, she had leant across and threw the door open for me so I climbed inside and threw myself into the seat.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her face laced with concern as I slammed the door shut behind me. I fumbled with the seat belt, pushing it to click in more aggressively than I expected to.

“Please, just drive. Get me the fuck away from here,” I stated. And within seconds the engine purred back to life and music filled the cabin as she pulled away from where she had stopped.

In seconds, we were speeding down the motorway which was the fastest route to her house from town. The car was silent for several minutes, the air tense.

“I made him mad asking you to come pick me up, didn’t I? Did you guys fight?” I asked, my voice small. I hated the idea of her being dragged out to take care of me, while her boyfriend, the father of her child, sat in bed fuming at me for taking her away from her comfort and much needed sleep.

“Don’t you worry about my relationship right now,” Peyton didn’t sound as sad as she usually did whenever they fought. Maybe he was too flat out to even notice her gone, I hoped.

“We’re not going back to mine, we’re going to my parents’ house. They’re out of town and we can have the place to ourselves,” She revealed, and I felt my stomach drop. So they did fight again, because of me.

“If you drop me at yours, I can make my own way home from there,” I began, but Peyton turned her head to glare at me briefly before her eyes went back to focus on the road.

“Don’t you fucking dare let my relationship issues make your life harder. He fucked up, and now he’s sleeping on the sofa like a little bitch. We’re going to go to my parents and we’re going to sleep, then in the morning we’re going to have a long talk about our nights. Yes?”

I nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to let loose all our stresses of the day.

In no time, Peyton took the exit off the motorway and began driving through streets, and smaller main roads. And after a further ten minutes, we got to her parent’s house.

Peyton found a parking space and squeezed her car into it before she climbed out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than she intended. James must have really fucked up, I thought as I climbed out of the car myself.

I followed after her slowly, looking at the ground to make sure I didn’t risk falling over the pot holes that littered her street. Then I walked up the few steps from the street to her front door, which she had left wide open for me to slip into.

I entered the house, and closed the door behind me. I locked it with the key she left plugged into the inside lock for me, and then I slipped my shoes off messily. I then made my way into the house to the door that led to the living room which was open concept into the kitchen.

I looked around and found Peyton sat on the sofa with a fleece blanket covering her body, her eyes staring at the black screen of the TV which was turned off. She looked up when she noticed me enter, and gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

I stuck my lower lip out and walked over to her, standing before her with my hands out to her in a poor attempt to offer her a hug. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

Peyton stood and shook her head. But she said nothing. Instead, she grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face away from her, then she kept her grip on me as she led me through the living room back to the door, then to the stairs.

She let go of me to hold onto the banister as we walked up the stairs. I got to the top and took a few steps into the hallway before turning to face her, awaiting her next demands.

Peyton walked past me and pushed the guest bedroom open for me, then she walked to the bathroom and locked the door once she was inside. That was odd, as most of the time she kept the door open.

I wanted to go knock on the door and make sure she was okay, but she seemed less than willing to talk about it at that time. So I just nodded my head and made my way to the guest room. I sat on the bed, not even bothering to take my clothes off.

I reached inside the bedside drawer and pulled out makeup wipes I had left the last time I had been there. I wiped at my face, not even sure if I got all of it or not. I didn’t care. I would just give my face a good scrub in the morning.

The door to the bathroom opened and the light turned off, then I heard her feet pad to the bedroom beside mine, hers. She kept the door open, and I watched as the lights flickered on. I assumed she was getting changed.

I took that as a sign for me to use the bathroom. I had to scrub my body clean of the man and his touches, and I knew she wouldn’t mind. I was unsure why she was suddenly mute, but I hoped Peyton was okay.

I turned the tap on, then flicked the lever for it to turn from the bath to the shower. I waited for the water to heat up, then I stepped into the bath.

I allowed the water to envelop me into heat. I sighed, leaning my head sideways against the nearby wall. I closed my eyes, imagining the water washing every touch of the man away.

I then lifted my body, feeling heavy, and grabbed for my designated loofa in the Summer household. I poured out some vanilla body wash and used it to scrub at my skin. I scrubbed my thighs, my arms, my lips, and between my legs.

That was where I scrubbed the most.

The less of his traces that I had on me, the better. I needed the stranger gone, out of my system.

I was unsure how long I had been in the shower, but as I stepped out I found a small pile of pyjamas on the floor by the door as if someone had thrown them in for me. I smiled to myself, picking them up and the towel from the back of the door with my name on it.

I dried off, then slipped into the pyjamas. My hair remained in the ponytails, wet and dangling down. But I chose to ignore them. My hair would be messy by the morning, but that sounded like something I would just need to deal with by the morning.

I left the bathroom, turning the light off but leaving the door open. I made my way back to my bedroom, sitting back down on to the bed. I sat in silence for a while, debating what I should do.

“Are you okay?” I asked again, throwing the blanket back to finally tuck myself in for the night.

At first, she was silent. “I will be,” Peyton’s voice was almost not loud enough, but I managed to catch it as my eyes drifted close.

I finally lay back down under the covers and pulled the duvet up to my chin, my body shivering as cold air threatened me. The bed sheets were icy cold also, but it seemed not to disrupt my tired feeling.

“I love you,” I mumbled out, unsure if she had even heard before sleep overtook me.

I woke with a start, sitting up in bed with a gasp. My hand came to my mouth as I felt wetness, and I cringed as I wiped the drool away. I then threw myself out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, needing relief.

After I finished on the toilet, I stood and washed my hands in the sink. Then I noticed my face in the reflection. I noted some dark spots of black on my face from where I failed to wipe all my makeup off.

I grabbed the face wash that I knew was Peyton’s and I put some into my hand and then scrubbed at my face. I rinsed it off, then repeated the action to make sure my face was extra clean. Once there were no more signs of the makeup from the night before, I deemed I was ready to go downstairs for breakfast at long last.

I walked past Peyton’s bedroom to the stairs, and when I walked past I noticed that the door was open, with the blinds also surprisingly wide open. Peyton always kept them closed when she first woke in the day.

I grabbed onto the rail of the stairs and made my way down them slowly, my thighs aching from my… activities the night before. I was not cut out for riding, that I was sure of.

I got to the bottom of the stairs and smelt pancakes. I was surprised, Peyton next to never cooked. So I walked in to the room and made my way to the left where the kitchen table sat.

Peyton was already at the table, the pancakes still steaming in the middle as they must have just been made. I pulled up the chair beside her and silently picked up a pancake, playing it on the plate she laid out for me.

I reached for the sugar and lemon juice, topping my pancakes how I liked.

We both remained silent, neither of us in the mood to talk. We were exhausted. Not of each other, but just generally speaking.

I cut up my pancakes into tiny squares, and then picked up a few pieces onto my form. Then I shovelled them into my mouth. I chewed slowly and swallowed, and then went to pick up more before a sudden noise came from my throat.

A sob.

Tears fell down my eyes without warning, and so I dropped my fork and raised a hand to cover my mouth. I sat back against the chair, trying to calm myself down when the arms of Peyton surrounded me in a tight hug.

“Ashton, babe,” Her voice spoke softly, sounding sad for me.

I dropped my hand and hid my face in her shoulder. “I feel like I cheated, I fucking cheated,” I let the guilt from the night before consume me.

“You didn’t cheat babe, he’s out of your life and you owe him nothing. You did nothing wrong” She reasoned, her hand rubbing my back slowly. “You’re okay. After today, we’re going to do everything in our power to distract you from him until eventually you forget him.”

I nodded, not quite believing it was a possibility. I knew it was going to be hard to forget about him, and a part of me doubted I ever truly would. But I would do anything to forget the betrayal I felt not just from him, but from myself.

“He cheated on me,” Peyton finally mumbled, revealing her own troubles. I let out a small sob and wrapped my arms tight around her, my hands gripping onto her clothes.

“I’m so sorry Pey, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s his fuck up, not yours. I can finally be free from him,” She didn’t even sound upset. She sounded like she had accepted the fact they were over long before the news was revealed.

“We’re going to be okay,” She whispered against my hair, to which I nodded in agreement.

“We’re going to be okay.”