The Afterworld

by Joanne Sexton

  Then I met Ally and I knew I had to bring Lucy there. I had sex with other girls at the club, the first time I’d slept with anyone but Lucy. I felt guilty at first, but then sexual gluttony took control of me. The drug only intensifies it and takes away the hesitation, the inhibitions.

  It also helps me tolerate her with other men. The girls I can handle more. I mean seriously, what guy doesn’t want to watch his girl with another girl? It’s an ultimate fantasy, but when she has sex with one or more guys I have to ignore the pain in my chest and allow her to experiment. As I have done without her. I wish I’d never started, but curiosity, wanting to sow my wild oats and not knowing how Lucy felt, I thought I had nothing to lose. Maybe I do, maybe this will drive a wedge between us.

  Today my load at work is light, thankfully. I’m tired from too many nights going to the club. I’ve always been able to function on a few hours’ sleep, but it’s starting to take its toll on me. Lucy has been struggling with the late hours and getting into trouble at work. I know I shouldn’t encourage her to keep going and really, how much longer can I watch her with other men before I want to punch one in the face in jealousy? Yet the pull is too strong. The club and purple pills are addictive and I don’t have the willpower to stop.

  After work I go home to shower and change. Over and over thoughts swirl in my head as the lukewarm water cools me from the outside in after a warm spring day.

  I throw on jeans and Lucy’s favourite t-shirt and then head straight to her place. As I have a key, I let myself in. She’s asleep, as she is a lot lately. She is so exhausted she goes straight to bed after work.

  Watching her sleep I notice her pallor is light. Although she has milky skin, it appears paler and has lost its lustre. Even in sleep I can see the dark circles under her eyes and she looks thinner than before as though she’s been sleeping instead of eating. She was thin before, but now I see bones in places I couldn’t see them before.

  What have I done?

  Maybe we should stay home tonight. The pull though, it’s a bitch and it’s calling me to that other world. The world I should drag my girl away from.

  I should tell her I love her, but I don’t have the courage to do either. I can’t handle the rejection. If she feels like I do I will know. I will be able to tell, but she’s never shown any sign that she loves me more than a friend. A best friend with benefits may love the other in friendship, but nothing more. Can it change to real love? The all-consuming, totally in love with, love of your life, love. The love I have for her.

  Going to The Afterworld with her to begin with was to see if she will indulge with a girl. She mentioned after sex one night that she’d often wondered what it would be like to be with a girl, so I took her there to find out and then it got completely out of hand. Now I don’t know how to stop. How to get things back to they were before. I should’ve declared my love for her instead of taking her to that place.

  Even though she looks different now, changed in many ways, she is still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known inside and out. Guilt thumps in my chest. The changes to her appearance are my fault. If she says she doesn’t want to go anymore, I will stop, but every time I ask her she says yes. It hurts to hear she wants to continue to have sex with other men, but I want to make her happy. That’s all I care about.

  Her eyelids flutter and she groans as she wakes. The sound makes me horny and I want to jump her bones, have sex with just her, the way it was. We’ve rarely had sex one on one in the past weeks. We’re too exhausted most nights and I miss it, having sex in a bed at her place or mine.

  I want to get it back right now, but instead of saying and doing all the things I want, I say, “Hi, sleepyhead. Do you want to go out tonight?”

  I will her to say no. Be the one to stop us going. Then we can have takeaway and have sex. Tender, loving, passionate sex. Sex that means something more than a lustful encounter with a stranger.

  “Sure,” she replies with a smile that I know is forced.

  If she doesn’t want to go, why doesn’t she say so? Maybe she thinks she’s doing it for me, like I’m doing it for her.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, hoping she’ll open up and bring back our communication.

  I feel like we’ve even lost the ability to confide in each other, like we’ve broken our friendship.

  All I want to do is tell her I love her.

  “Yeah, I’m just tired. I got in trouble at work today.”

  “Then we shouldn’t go.”

  “No, it’s alright.”

  Why does she still want to go? Can’t she see I’m disappointed that she wants to? I say nothing. Everything is broken.

  8

  At The Club Again

  “You’d better get up and get ready then,” I say. “I’ll order pizza; you look like you need to eat.”

  Something passes over her face and for the first time ever I’m not sure what it means. I’ve always been able to read her. All her emotions show on her face, but today she is hiding from me. How long has she been doing that? We really are broken and I have no idea how to fix it.

  She disappears into the bathroom and I order her favourite toppings. I go to check the fridge and find a six pack of beer. Maybe a beer or two can open our communication, give us some Dutch courage to somehow get us back to being best friends again instead of this weird altered relationship.

  It’s a Thursday night, a popular night at the club, and Lucy and I line up in silence. After stilted conversation over dinner, the awkwardness continues while we wait. I still can’t read her and I have no idea what she’s thinking, what’s on her mind, because she has become this stoic unreadable person. My Lucy isn’t my Lucy anymore. She’s never been able to hide from me before and now she has become a champion at it. Several times I go to speak, but stop myself. I have nothing to say. I don’t know what to say.

  “What are you up for tonight?” she asks, breaking our silence. Even the tone she uses doesn’t give anything away.

  “I don’t know.”

  And I don’t know. Going home alone with her and holding her in my arms, taking away this distant person standing before me, is a much more appealing idea right now. I want to love away the bridge between us. This Lucy is not the Lucy I grew up and fell in love with. What have I done to her?

  Inside the club, a guy she’s had a one on one with before approaches her. Her whole demeaner changes, as though she is pretending to be someone else. How long has she hidden behind this façade? Her flirting is so different to her personality. It isn’t her. It’s like she’s playing a part and I don’t recognise her.

  He takes her hand and leads her to an empty part of a couch. In a few moments she is completely naked. I think about how modest she was before, when she used to blush when I stared at her bare form. How sweet and coy she was. Not this siren of seduction I see before me now.

  I have broken her and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get her back from where she has fallen, but I know, after tonight, I must try and bring her back.

  I can’t drag my eyes away from them. Normally I’m busy myself and I don’t notice what she’s doing with whom. She’s learnt new moves. Moves she’s never done with me. Things she’s picked up by coming here. I suddenly feel sick, like I’m going to vomit.

  Now it hits me, how much I love her. I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s killing me and is taking all my strength not to beat the guy senseless and drag my girl out of here.

  Instead of doing either, I go to the bar and order a drink. I scull it before asking for another. I need to get drunk, so I can try and forget there is another man fucking my girl.

  Several drinks later, I’m staggering. She’s finished and is getting dressed. It’s time to take her home.

  We need to leave and never come back again.

  Lucy

  9

  The Beginning Of The End

  Like some crazy person I keep going to the club with Matty. It no longer holds any appeal. I’ve had enoug
h, but I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t want to disappoint him. So night after night, I go. We always leave together and sometimes sleep together, but only sleep. We don’t have sex one on one anymore.

  One afternoon I wake up feeling like crap. Feverish. I put it down to my lifestyle until I go to pee and it burns so badly it brings tears to my eyes. Something isn’t right.

  I ring the local clinic and manage to get an appointment in a few hours. Pain in my abdomen and genitals propel me to seek the comfort of my bed again. I set an alarm and try and sleep.

  Several hours later I’m sitting in the doctor’s office. I’m relieved it’s a female, but I still feel like she’s judging me as she recommends we test for every STD known to man. It’s like a slap in the face. I may have ruined my life more than I already have. HIV or Hepatitis flashes into my mind. My new lifestyle can change my life in the worst possible way.

  The doctor advises me that the results will take a couple of days and to make another appointment to find out the consequences. In the meantime, I have to take anti-biotics in case it’s an infection and will help with the symptoms until we know for sure.

  On the drive home, my mind spins on a constant loop. What have I done? Why do I keep going back to that place? Why don’t I try and talk Matty out of it? The way I feel about him has changed now. I still love him, I always will, but my feelings are tainted. I can’t face him. I don’t know how to talk to him anymore. What we had before is gone and has been replaced by this new version of us.

  I hold back the tears until I’m safely at home.

  I go straight back to bed and spend the next two days pretty much lounging around, in pain and full of fear. I stay in my pyjamas and either sleep or watch crappy daytime TV.

  Money issues are now a concern and I’m running out quickly. I need to look for another job, but I can’t focus on the task until I have results from the doctor.

  Matty texts me about going out, but I claim I have a cold and that I’ll catch up with him in a few days. He asks if he can do anything, but I say no. I need space, though I don’t tell him so.

  “I have Gonorrhoea?’ I question in a shrill, shocked voice.

  “It could’ve been worse. Be thankful you don’t have HIV or Hepatitis. Gonorrhoea is treatable. You were lucky, young lady,” the doctor lectures.

  “I guess so.”

  Though I feel disgusting for having a venereal disease, regardless if it’s treatable or not, I’m relieved it isn’t worse. This is my punishment for being gluttonous.

  The doctor gives me another prescription and I walk from the clinic in shock. If I hadn’t already decided not to go to that cesspool of a place already, this will have made the choice for me. I dodged a bullet. I am upset with myself for the actions of the past weeks.

  I nearly destroyed my life. I must find a job and try and get some semblance of my life back.

  I change back into my pyjamas and take up residence on the couch again. I need to spend some time healing, repairing my body, my soul and my heart. I don’t know what I’m going to do about Matty. My heart throbs like a thumb hit with a hammer. I need some distance from him until I can get things sorted and forgive him and myself for turning into something I detest. This was never my scene, yet I jumped into it without hesitation or thought.

  As it has been a couple of days, I have a feeling Matty will turn up tonight, to see how I am. I have no idea what to say to him. I know he’ll be concerned about me, but will he come because he’s worried about me or because he wants to go to the club.

  I hear a key in the door. I guess I’m about to find out.

  “Lucy,” he calls as he opens the door.

  “I’m in here.”

  “Hey, how ya feeling?” His brow is furrowed; he at least looks concerned. “I assume by the pyjamas that you’re not so good.”

  “You guessed right.”

  I feel awkward; our conversation feels formal, stilted. It’s never been like this before. A tear slides down my cheek, then another. I’m at the point of sobbing.

  “Hey,” he says, lifting my feet, sitting down and then putting them in his lap. “Why the tears?”

  Leaning forward he wipes them away with his thumb and the gesture causes me to sob. Can everything be okay again? Then I picture those hands touching other girls.

  “I can’t do it anymore!” I say between heaving breaths. “I have Gonorrhoea, I lost my job, and I’ve lost you.”

  “Oh, shit, that’s sucks, Lucy. Come here,” he says with open arms.

  I crawl into his lap and he holds me while I cry. It feels like before. I forget about everything and enjoy the feeling of being in his arms again. My heart is thumping in my chest.

  “You haven’t lost me,” he whispers.

  “Yes, I have. I’ve lost the friend I had before that crazy club. I miss what we had, but we can’t go back. I need to get my life in order and that place isn’t helping me. While you’re still going there I can’t be around you.”

  The words keep tumbling out, even words I thought I will never say. Words I’ve been too scared to utter before. It all comes out in a verbal waterfall.

  “I love you, but I can’t look at you the same anymore. It has always been you for me and I can’t watch you with other women. You are tainted. I don’t think I can be your friend, your anything anymore. I need you to leave. Keep going to the club, I don’t care because I won’t know. I. Just. Can’t. Anymore.”

  I stop, breathless, scared, hurt, a jumble of pain and loss. I look up at him and my breath is taken by his expression. Shock and hurt all at once. His eyes are so sad I have to look away, leave the comfort of his embrace and lay down. My feet are still in his lap, so I bring them up towards my chest. I can’t touch him right now.

  “I won’t go anymore. We can go back to how it was,” he says.

  His voice is low and heartfelt. He’s being sincere, but it’s too late.

  My declaration of love hangs in the air as though I didn’t say it. He says nothing about the three words I’ve wanted to say since we were teenagers. It went through to the keeper without being acknowledged by him. As I suspected, my love is unrequited.

  “I don’t think it can, Matty. Every time I look at you I see you with those girls and things will never be the same.”

  “Lucy, I don’t understand. We can fix this.”

  “No, Matty, I don’t think we can.” My voice is almost a whisper.

  The pain of losing the only man I’ve ever loved is a weight on my chest. The fact he doesn’t say he loves me too is the icing on the cake. I have to distance myself to heal and get over my love for him.

  Although the thought of not seeing him for however long hurts more, I can’t back down. I have to recover from my STD, find a job and get my life back. I can’t do that while going to the club and while he is as well. If we continue to hang out, I will fall into the trap again.

  I will go because he is going. Watching him with other girls has scarred me and I can’t do it anymore. My love for him is strong. My jealousy is real and painful. I don’t want to be a gluttonous slut anymore. I’m hoping he will also come to his senses. I have no idea how he keeps going to the club, having late nights and still functions as a human and does his manual labour landscaping job. It is all too much for me.

  Tears slide down my cheeks again. I sit up and pull my legs up to my chest and hug my knees because I want to hug him more than anything, but I can’t. I gaze at him, my heart in my throat.

  “You need to leave now.” I say. “I need space.”

  “Lucy … I … ”

  “Please, Matty, just go. This is hard enough.”

  “I won’t go to the club. I told you we can fix this. We’ve been best friends forever.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s too late.” I sob again.

  Tears shine in his beautiful changeable eyes and I’m taken aback for a moment. I have never seen him this sad. His gaze implores me to change my mind, but I can’t. All I see is his hands
, lips, mouth, everything, on another girl.

  Without another word, he gets up and leaves. Still hugging my knees, I cry hard. My heart is broken and my life in tatters.

  Now what?

  10

  After The Afterworld

  A couple of weeks go by and I haven’t heard from Matty. He does as asked and leaves me alone. After feeling sorry for myself for a few days, I drag my ass off the couch and turn on my laptop which has been lying dormant for weeks. I need to find a job.

  I find two openings in my field, so I update my resume and send off applications. Now I just have to wait.

  The antibiotics have kicked in and I’m feeling myself again. The STD scare was a huge wake-up call and I’ve forgiven myself for all that I did while going to The Afterworld.

  I wonder if Matty is still going, but I shake that thought away. I can’t think about him. If I do I will become a crumbling heap once more and I need to focus on getting my life in order. I don’t know if or when I want to see him again.

  The agony of not having him in my life, for going so long without seeing each other, when we’ve seen each other almost every day from the moment we met, is tearing me apart. But I can’t. Even if he’s stopped going, he doesn’t love me the way I love him. I have to get over that before I can even consider seeing him.

  I shake off those thoughts. I need to get out of the house. Do something.

  Then I have an idea. I pick up my phone and text Cally and ask her if she wants to meet for lunch. I haven’t seen her since I lost my job and I miss her friendship. She replies straight way with a suggestion for lunch today. I confirm details.