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5
Today
My mother would always tellme to trust my instincts. If everything inside me is screaming, there’s always a reason for it. If something feels dangerous, it probably is. If it feels wrong, then don’t do it. And if my inner self wants to take a certain step, then I should. She explained that often we know the right thing deep inside, but it can be clouded by the mess in our minds.
So clear the mess away first. Then listen to yourself.
All night I try to clear the mess away in my mind so I can decide what to do. Part of me wants to show up at Grant’s room like I did six months ago. That time, I didn’t have to talk or explain what I wanted. I simply knocked on his door, and he knew.
I’m pretty sure he’d know this time too.
I want to do it. I mentally rehearse the scene over and over again. Get out of bed. Put on my slippers. Head down to his apartment. Knock on his door. And then…
But questions and fears and insecurities keep clouding the issue for me. Is that really the smart thing to do? Sure, he’d probably fuck me if I ask him, but do I want a man who isn’t interested enough to pursue me? Faith said she picked up vibes between us, but maybe those vibes were all from me. After all, I made the first move once. It’s his turn now.
Isn’t it?
He said we shouldn’t have sex again. Why shouldn’t I assume he meant it?
So instead of following through with my plan, I stay awake for most of the night, tossing around, brooding over choices, and even getting up twice and starting to leave my room before I change my mind.
In the morning, I’m groggy and exhausted and have that sick weight in my gut that tells me I made a mistake. I didn’t follow my instincts. I failed.
Staying in bed and moping isn’t a choice for me anymore, so I get up to swim like normal, and I feel a little better afterward. Both the physical exertion and the intentional breathing required for swimming always help to clear my mind.
I need to stop asking questions about Grant. Even if he rejects me or hurts my feelings, it won’t be the end of the world. I need an answer on this, or I won’t be able to move on, so tonight I’m just going to do it.
It’ll be scary, but I’ll do it anyway.
With this resolved, I’m able to join Mary for my morning duties without dreading it. Although I’m tired as we organize the daily ration packs, I’m able to get into my social mood and smile and chat with everyone who stops by.
I just need to get through today. Then we’ll see.
Noah stops by and accepts my explanation about why I didn’t go find him the day before. He asks me about the trip with Grant and seems genuinely interested in my descriptions of New Haven Farm.
He tells me the invitation stands to come find him and hang out anytime I want, and I thank him and say we’ll see.
It’s a dismissal but not a rude or a permanent one. After all, if I can ever get over this thing with Grant, then maybe I can fall for Noah for real.
But not right now. There’s no room inside me for anyone else at the moment. That much has been made clear.
After lunch, I head back into the bunker, planning to rest for an hour or so since my lack of sleep is starting to catch up with me. But I pause before I reach the elevator when I hear a familiar engine turn on.
I walk over to where we left the Jeep the day before. Sure enough, Grant is sitting behind the steering wheel. The door is still hanging open, but he could close it any second.
“Where are you going today?” I ask him, hurrying over since it looks like he’s about to start off.
“I’m dropping off a message,” he explains curtly, as if the words will mean something to me.
“What, now?”
“I’m going to drop off a message.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but since he seems a little impatient, I don’t pursue it. “How far away is it?”
“Less than an hour. Same direction as New Haven.”
“Oh. Okay.” This time, when the instinct starts to speak, I don’t question it or let it get drowned out by insecurities. I stride over to the passenger side and open the door. “I’ll come with you then.”
