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Breathing heavily, I slumped back against the wall.
You’re not straight.
Fuck.
How stupid could I be to not realise that? If I thought back on it, after the first couple of kisses with Noah when I was so scared of what was happening, everything between us had seemed so easy and natural and right. I’d never felt that way with a girl, ever. I’d never wanted more than one night. Sex had always been…enjoyable, I guess, something to pass the time, and I was good at it and knew how to make the person I was with feel good, but I’d never felt anything even remotely like I had with Noah. Noah was just…
He was in a completely different league. It was like comparing…fuck, how did I even describe it? Like you’d been eating the cheapest vanilla ice cream from the supermarket for years, and you always thought it tasted okay, but you could take it or leave it. Then one day you tried real, homemade vanilla ice cream, with the little black bits of vanilla in it, so fucking creamy and delicious and full of flavour that you knew you’d never go back to the supermarket ice cream, because it could never even hope to compare.
Before Noah, I’d wondered, deep down, if it was my fear of abandonment that had stopped me from wanting anything more with anyone, but the simple truth was, not one single girl had ever held my interest.
Yet Noah had captured my interest from the second I’d met him, and held it.
Then I’d messed it all up.
What the fuck did I do now? What would my mum’s reaction be? Would I disappoint my loved ones for being different? Would I end up losing people I loved?
“Help me,” I whispered into the darkness of my room, but there was no one there.
